Misc data and adventures of a Tayopa treasure hunter

Shortfinger said:
Been there, done that, seen it too.....So I believe.....
Click to expand...

One of the scariest was in N. New Jersey. Going north or south on route one past the Palisades. The water on top (300 + feet) would come down into the sewer system below and you would be driving in 4-8 inches of water and seeing "fonts of water 1 &1/2 to 2 feet high" from where the manhole covers were. You would straddle them with the car/truck to keep from "Flipping" a manhole cover and dropping a wheel into the manhole. Scary!
 

I did drive from N.O to past Biloxi on the coast hiway (rt 90) after Camille. The four lane bridge going over the bay at Biloxi only had one lane at the top. The inner most concrete slab was all that was left of the bridge at the top. There were Boats on top of houses. This was in Oct of '69. I-10 wasn't through then. Not Brown water but the force of Camille lifted the concrete slabs right out of the bridge. They were at least 1 foot thick and just gone!
 

Ahhhh...The brown water, (here in Utah it is generally red), can be the end of you. My father once lost a jeep to one of the flash floods, the insurance dude didn't believe him, thought he had sold it. So dad takes insurance dude to the jeep, crammed into a slot canyon overlooking the Escalante river. The insurance paid.
Many long days and nights I have spent waiting for the water and muck to subside so I could make my way back home. Thank the good lord for vienna sausages, and dirty water, or a few of us might not have made it back. I still carry 12 cans of the Vienna meat fingers under my back seat for a just in case....
Great thread...
Rock
PS. My fathers jeep that had washed away became quite a photographic phenom for years. A couple of times it was in 4 wheel magazines, and once on the front cover of a calander.
 

Back them I didn't carry a camera with me and I wouldn't have tried to take a picture while driving, was to busy watching the road and sweating. ;)
 

It was in the early 1960's in the Harris Wash here in southern Utah. (now the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument). At one time, we could drive from Escalante, down the Harris Wash, cross the Escalante River, and drive up Left Hand Silver Falls canyon in to the Circle Cliffs where all of his uranium mines were. At the place where Left hand Silver Falls canyon meets the Escalante River, he had built a 40 bed bunkhouse, and a 6 holer privy. Too bad in later years after the designation of the monument, the gov. boys decided it was out of place and burned it down. Also, in the Circle Cliff country, at the head of Death canyon and Wolverine canyon, there is an old train caboose, and a 3 hole outhouse, along with a spring that my father developed. Best water in the world! (I may be a little biased on the subject). As a kid, I got to spend my summers there with my father and his crew working the tunnels, best place ever to grow up. Never a bad day there, a kidl, a 22 long rifle, and a million caves to explore in what is called the Onion beds...
Sorry....I reminisce too long....
 

Ahhh....
Another rambling memory comes to mind.....
Back in the late 60's, (age 12), I was spending the summer with my father and his crew at the Muley Twist uranium mine that he owned, (Muley Twist canyon is just at the top of the Burr Trail in Capitol Reef National Park,(not a park at the time)). About every two weeks, seems dad and his employees would run out of grub, (mostly alcohol, some food). These trips would take 3 to 4 days for them to get back to Richfield, get everything they needed, and return. One late afternoon, dear old dad comes to me and says, "We are headed for grub, if you want you can stay here". At first, I was a little freaked out, a boy, alone in the desert, the closest town was Hanksville, about 75 miles away up a treacherous dirt road. It was only when he handed me the keys to the jeep, two bricks, (1000 rounds), of 22 bullets, and said, "You can go anywhere you want, in fact, see if you can't get us a deer or two for camp meat. DAMN!
For the next 3 days, I thought I was superman! Roaming the desert, shooting up the country side, a real mans man, (or so I thought). It might be the best 3 days of my life....It just doesn't get any better.
Great memories...

Too bad that so many children now days are locked into the big cities, many in poverty. Makes me wonder if progress is everything it is cooked up to be....I miss the old days...
Rock

Bytheway...I didn't see any deer, or even a deer track for that matter...
 

bonuntr said:
It was in the early 1960's in the Harris Wash here in southern Utah. (now the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument). At one time, we could drive from Escalante, down the Harris Wash, cross the Escalante River, and drive up Left Hand Silver Falls canyon in to the Circle Cliffs where all of his uranium mines were. At the place where Left hand Silver Falls canyon meets the Escalante River, he had built a 40 bed bunkhouse, and a 6 holer privy. Too bad in later years after the designation of the monument, the gov. boys decided it was out of place and burned it down. Also, in the Circle Cliff country, at the head of Death canyon and Wolverine canyon, there is an old train caboose, and a 3 hole outhouse, along with a spring that my father developed. Best water in the world! (I may be a little biased on the subject). As a kid, I got to spend my summers there with my father and his crew working the tunnels, best place ever to grow up. Never a bad day there, a kidl, a 22 long rifle, and a million caves to explore in what is called the Onion beds...
Sorry....I reminisce too long....
Click to expand...


Howdy bonuntr,

Onion beds? Wild onions tend to indicate placer gold.

Homar
 

Naturally you would pick that up quickly corozone, plus the many caves there.:coffee2::coffee2::tongue3: Sounds like a depression operation,
 

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I have not heard of that before.
Is it due to the black sand? I've heard of folks keeping their concentrates for rose bushes.

I heard a man say that he left a jar of black sand on a neighbor's porch for her roses. The lady wasn't home at the time, and he went on his way, thinking nothing more about it as he went into town.

On his way home, he found a fire truck and police and the bomb squad, all blocking the street. He left his truck to find out what was going on. He was told to get back in his truck and stay away, there appears that someone has left some kind of " black powder bomb" in front of a house, down the street.

He knew which house it was right away, and asked to see who was in charge.


He cleared the matter up very quickly, and was instructed to put a bow and a note on them from then on.

We live in interesting times.....

#/;0{>~
 

Naw.....no gold there that I am aware of. The onion beds are around 8 to10 square miles of strange rock canyons with hoodoos everywhere. On average they are 30 to 40 feet high, the bottom covered in sand, and are a great place to get lost. Every one of them are made of slot canyons 3 to 10 feet wide at the very widest. Every once in a while, you have to climb to the top to get your bearings. The onion beds are formed by a white triassic sandstone that lies just below the chinle formations that are famous for their petrified wood beds. I imagine the old timers named them the onion beds because a lot of them resemble massive white onions sticking out of the ground....
 

On a side note...I believe back in post 3929 in this thread, I made a reference to learning a lesson from my dear old dad in the onion beds....great lesson!
 

Wow! Nowhere near what I imagined...
We have what old timers call wild onion beds that Pop up in fields. Dairy farmers don't like them because they make the milk taste bad.

I never would have picked up on sandstone.

I guess, if I hang around long enough I can't help but learn something new, from time to time....

Thanks for clearing that up for me.

#/;0{>~
 

Don Jose,
I brought my favorite adult beverage to share with your friends and give your coffee an little zip.
While looking at your entry 5239 and the Notes to Guadalcanal, I wonder if you ever knew or met Roy Roush, Second Marine Division (carried the BAR). He had experience on Guadalcanal, Tarawa, Saipan and Tinian; and he remains a good friend of mine.
Don......
 

bonuntr said:
On a side note...I believe back in post 3929 in this thread, I made a reference to learning a lesson from my dear old dad in the onion beds....great lesson!
Click to expand...


That's been a while back...
I probably read it, but it didn't stick to my Teflon memory.

#/;0)~

Yep! I read it, and can remember it after re-reading it...
I remembered the next one too..

Liked them both!
 

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Bonunter, your second story about the gun, reminded me of another young kid and a shotgun...

It was a weekend, which at our house usually meant shopping for supplies for a family of eight. I was the second son among two brothers and three sisters. For some reason or another the oldest brother was taken into town, which left me on charge of three girls and the youngest of the bunch, little brother.
Supper was done and dishes
Were to be washed and all was going well, and I thought all was going well and I could smell a promotion in
The air and it was about time ...

Suddenly the dog sprang to his feet and took an aggressive stance at the front door with a side order of a low growl. I was right behind him and turned to count heads. They were lined up from oldest to youngest, right on my heels. The oldest of the girls said " Do something!", and about that time the dog barked and we all jumped. We all looked over the couch at Mom's shotgun. I climbed up on the couch, took a deep breath and pulled it down and kept it pointed straight up, just as I was trained to do, and moved over to the door and said with my deepest voice, a prepubescent squeak.
"I've got a shotgun in here, and I'm afraid to use it" yeah, I left out the word " not". Trying to let whoever was out there that I meant business, I jacked a shell, the dog growled again and I was running out of ideas and the oldest of my younger sister prodding me to stick the end of the barrel against the screen, and I could just see some great big guy grabbing the end and taking away.

Again, with the" DO SOMETHING!"
So I set the safety on and reached around to the front of the trigger guard to release the first shell so I could stand a little closer to the door and when I touched the release with my trigger finger ,my middle finger touched the trigger and it fired a shot straight thru the ceiling and made a two inch hole
With a black burn mark about a foot across.

I was thinking about the butt whipping that I was going to get, when my sister said , " I'm pretty
Sure he's gone!" The dog was nowhere to be found. I
Was still standing in the hall with the gun in
Hand when the door suddenly popped open and Dad charged in, grabbed the shotgun and said " You did good, son ?!?"

Someone ran in front of the truck, headed into the woods like his butt was on fire. I looked up in silence at the hole in the ceiling. Dad looked up and grabbed me by the collar, and I
Thought I was doomed, but he got down on one knee and hugged me and said" You kids are safe, hugged me again. Latter he got up on the roof and found a six inch hole in the roof and patched it.

We spent a few hours retraining me about which way the safety needed to be to be on.

I learned much more than I would have with a butt whipping that day.

I learned how to be a good father.

#/;0)~
 

PROSPECTORMIKEL said:
I have not heard of that before.
Is it due to the black sand? I've heard of folks keeping their concentrates for rose bushes.

I heard a man say that he left a jar of black sand on a neighbor's porch for her roses. The lady wasn't home at the time, and he went on his way, thinking nothing more about it as he went into town.

On his way home, he found a fire truck and police and the bomb squad, all blocking the street. He left his truck to find out what was going on. He was told to get back in his truck and stay away, there appears that someone has left some kind of " black powder bomb" in front of a house, down the street.

He knew which house it was right away, and asked to see who was in charge.


He cleared the matter up very quickly, and was instructed to put a bow and a note on them from then on.

We live in interesting times.....

#/;0{>~
Click to expand...

HOWDY AMIGO,

I HAVE NEVER BOTHERED TO LOOK INTO THE WHY, JUST THE WHICH. IT'S CALLED GEOBOTANICAL PROSPECTING, AND THE OLDEST BOOKS ON THE SUBJECT WERE WRITTEN BY THE CHINESE MANY CENTURIES AGO. DIFFERENT PLANTS INDICATE DIFFERENT MINERALS, THEN THERE ARE OTHER PLANTS OR TREES THAT ARE AFFECTED IN SOME WAY OR ANOTHER WHEN THEIR ROOTS COME IN CONTACT WITH CERTAIN MINERALS, OR METALS.

WILD ONIONS ARE SAID TO INDICATE SILVER, AND SHALLOTS INDICATE GOLD. HOWEVER THE FIRST GOLD EVER FOUND IN CALIFORNIA WHILE IT WAS STILL MEXICO, WAS FOUND CLINGING TO THE ROOTS OF WILD ONIONS. THIS WAS BACK IN MARCH, 9TH OF 1842, THE FINDER WAS FRANCISCO LOPEZ. THE PLACE WAS PLACERITA CANYON 35 MILES NORTH OF PUEBLO DE LOS ANGELES.

THERE IS A THREAD HERE UNDER TECHNIQUES IF YOU WANT TO LOOK INTO IT.

HOMAR
 

Hola Don Mac, my good friend./ No,I'm afraid I didn't. I was a bomb sight mech / bombardier and sorta stuck around Henderson field. I didn't have much contact with the front line ground troops. Our ground combat experience was limited to inner perimeter patrolling at times,

Hows the treasure hunting going >> heres my coffee cup dece t size coffee.jpg Fill it up with Kaluha
 

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