ravenguide
Jr. Member
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2007
- Messages
- 67
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- Location
- upstate,NY
- Detector(s) used
- whites xlt
Part Three of Along The Shagbark
Greetings fellow treasure finders, and thank you for allowing me to share this story.
Although true, I swear, one cannot help but question the accuracy, the very legitimacy of such a tale. Before we go on, I would like to broach the subject of reality, and the very complicated definition there of. Complicated by the nature of each individual’s perception, and dear reader I question mine. I see it akin to an individual suffering a mental illness, and being put away for doing something they have done that they feel was necessary, no more than that, their very existence depending on the deed being done. This person, now locked behind bars has to face the very confusing, complicated advice of others that their reality is not normal, that what the individual perceived as normal was indeed abnormal. Have patience, and indulge me, as you will soon see why this has been brought up fellow seekers. So come with me to the Shagbark, dark, shady, quiet little road, once hustling and bustling like its sister town, Saratoga.
The car was long forgotten, although I had left it only moments ago. The climb up the Shagbark is steep, and takes a few twists to allow the poor horses of yester year a brief repose. Hardwoods to the right and left, mostly Maples, with some Hickory, Oak, and Birch thrown in. Ahead, looming just in sight around a bend was what I had begun to call the Hemlock Corridor. This is where the birds stop singing, insects immobilized, and light penetrated vicariously threw the closed curtain of hemlock. A few spots of bright sun made its way through this veil, and where fell; wild raspberries sprinkled both sides of the road. I detected a feint jingle, as from bell, but it went away, and was forgotten… For the moment. The place where I had found the seated half dollar was my goal, and would be just up ahead. I thought nothing at first of not finding the spot, and continued on my way, thinking of what may be found in the next few hours. To my left, astonishingly a moss-covered rock with a pleasant trickle of clear cold water hitting a small pool below. I made my way over, and seeing as it was about ninety outside, sat down and washed my face, and let the small glade refresh. I got up and was just about to be on my way, when the thought hit me, that if I had stopped here, why not others? Immediately I turned on the xlt and began to work around the pool. A hit here, a hit there, some interesting hits, but nothing more. Up from the pool, I came upon a small foundation, and working it came up with an Indian head and a nice button of unknown origination.( Any ideas?). Moving on, another foundation, and after that, to my astonishment, was a huge foundation, and was what I guessed to be a mill. There were wagon wheels with large hemlocks growing through them, and then a nice button, looked to be 1800’s, and I got lost in my head while looking. I became fascinated with the cluster of foundations, when it occurred to me this place did not exist the other day! Here was the road, but nowhere were the familiar markers, and I certainly had not seen these foundations before. A bit of panic set in, the heat was becoming oppressive, and I was just about to give up when I got a hit. Digging down, I found an interesting piece of what looked to be brass, with a large W. on it. Having no idea what it was, I put it in my backpack and began going down hill, in an effort to regain my bearings. It came as quite a shock to find the original road beneath my feet! It felt surreal, and I was concerned of heatstroke. I walked down the road for a bit, going towards the car, when the road gently split into two. I took the upper split, and found out that the two roads parallel each other, with a small span between them. Masked by the Hemlocks, one would never see the other. Exhausted, I turned around just to verify, and within a span of minutes was back to the little pool, and fully realizing that the original road was just down hill. The place where the cold air comes out of the foundation was found, now I had my bearings (and sanity back, but was to exhausted to work the old place so went back to the Car, carrying my piece of brass, and the Indian head. The intention now would be to finish the original part of the road where I had found the silver the previous weekend, and for now feel assured there was going to be more to find on the Shagbark.
The piece of brass took some research, but turned out to be a large bell, reserved for sleighs, with about a three or four inch diameter. This bell, made in England in the 1700’s was made by a Mr. Richard Well. Could this be the ringing I had been hearing?
Greetings fellow treasure finders, and thank you for allowing me to share this story.
Although true, I swear, one cannot help but question the accuracy, the very legitimacy of such a tale. Before we go on, I would like to broach the subject of reality, and the very complicated definition there of. Complicated by the nature of each individual’s perception, and dear reader I question mine. I see it akin to an individual suffering a mental illness, and being put away for doing something they have done that they feel was necessary, no more than that, their very existence depending on the deed being done. This person, now locked behind bars has to face the very confusing, complicated advice of others that their reality is not normal, that what the individual perceived as normal was indeed abnormal. Have patience, and indulge me, as you will soon see why this has been brought up fellow seekers. So come with me to the Shagbark, dark, shady, quiet little road, once hustling and bustling like its sister town, Saratoga.
The car was long forgotten, although I had left it only moments ago. The climb up the Shagbark is steep, and takes a few twists to allow the poor horses of yester year a brief repose. Hardwoods to the right and left, mostly Maples, with some Hickory, Oak, and Birch thrown in. Ahead, looming just in sight around a bend was what I had begun to call the Hemlock Corridor. This is where the birds stop singing, insects immobilized, and light penetrated vicariously threw the closed curtain of hemlock. A few spots of bright sun made its way through this veil, and where fell; wild raspberries sprinkled both sides of the road. I detected a feint jingle, as from bell, but it went away, and was forgotten… For the moment. The place where I had found the seated half dollar was my goal, and would be just up ahead. I thought nothing at first of not finding the spot, and continued on my way, thinking of what may be found in the next few hours. To my left, astonishingly a moss-covered rock with a pleasant trickle of clear cold water hitting a small pool below. I made my way over, and seeing as it was about ninety outside, sat down and washed my face, and let the small glade refresh. I got up and was just about to be on my way, when the thought hit me, that if I had stopped here, why not others? Immediately I turned on the xlt and began to work around the pool. A hit here, a hit there, some interesting hits, but nothing more. Up from the pool, I came upon a small foundation, and working it came up with an Indian head and a nice button of unknown origination.( Any ideas?). Moving on, another foundation, and after that, to my astonishment, was a huge foundation, and was what I guessed to be a mill. There were wagon wheels with large hemlocks growing through them, and then a nice button, looked to be 1800’s, and I got lost in my head while looking. I became fascinated with the cluster of foundations, when it occurred to me this place did not exist the other day! Here was the road, but nowhere were the familiar markers, and I certainly had not seen these foundations before. A bit of panic set in, the heat was becoming oppressive, and I was just about to give up when I got a hit. Digging down, I found an interesting piece of what looked to be brass, with a large W. on it. Having no idea what it was, I put it in my backpack and began going down hill, in an effort to regain my bearings. It came as quite a shock to find the original road beneath my feet! It felt surreal, and I was concerned of heatstroke. I walked down the road for a bit, going towards the car, when the road gently split into two. I took the upper split, and found out that the two roads parallel each other, with a small span between them. Masked by the Hemlocks, one would never see the other. Exhausted, I turned around just to verify, and within a span of minutes was back to the little pool, and fully realizing that the original road was just down hill. The place where the cold air comes out of the foundation was found, now I had my bearings (and sanity back, but was to exhausted to work the old place so went back to the Car, carrying my piece of brass, and the Indian head. The intention now would be to finish the original part of the road where I had found the silver the previous weekend, and for now feel assured there was going to be more to find on the Shagbark.
The piece of brass took some research, but turned out to be a large bell, reserved for sleighs, with about a three or four inch diameter. This bell, made in England in the 1700’s was made by a Mr. Richard Well. Could this be the ringing I had been hearing?
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