Golden Grams of Goodness: Nugget Hunting Tales

[Lanny]

Great reply Joe, and it offers some new insight for me as well.

Years ago, I was nugget shooting. An old prospector showed me nuggets still coated in lumps of conglomerate. He'd found a chunk about the size of a toolbox that had fallen down the mountain. It was full of nuggets. Despite years of searching upslope on the mountain, he never found a source. So, maybe your story is the explanation.

Thanks again, and thanks for your informative posts,

Lanny

[Lanny]

Rookie Bedrock Gold

Looking back at some earlier writing, I came across a note about a Greenie panning session one day. It illustrates how too many people don't respect bedrock's ability to hold gold.

I was helping a rookie one day who wanted to learn to chase the gold. He'd studied up on the basics of panning. He'd read a lot of books and articles on the subject. He'd seen some videos on techniques and practices, and he was ready to tear up the hills to get some gold.

He really ripped up the dirt. He dug holes on slopes packed with river-run, dug holes on the downstream side of boulders, dug holes in gravel bars, and he dug holes in the stream-bed as well. But, he only got little specks. He was one discouraged greenhorn. All of his book learning and knowledge, and all of his sweat equity produced almost no gold.

I took him back to a spot on the river I’d shown him earlier in the day, right before he set off to light the panning world on fire. While he was gone, I had stayed in that one spot. It was a place where the river had shifted course that spring, and in doing so it had exposed some nice bedrock.

The bedrock was now a foot or so above the water. It didn't look like much, as there was no gravel covering it, and that's why he'd left. He wanted to run a whack of dirt, so he did. But now his back was sore, along with lots of muscles he never knew he had.

As I was panning, he peeked over my shoulder, and I showed him about three tablespoons of material in my gold pan. I’d freed it all from cracks and crevices in the bedrock. I told him how It had taken patience and time to get that tiny pile of material. Still, I could tell by looking at his face he was unimpressed with my small sample of pay-dirt.

After all he'd read, listened to, and watched about prospecting, his head was filled with the grand idea that a good spot had to be a place where you could dig, sort, screen, work and wash volume to find gold.

So, I asked him if wanted to wait while I panned my little bit of pay-dirt. And, with a pessimistic shrug, he waited.

It took hardly any time before things, beautiful golden things, started peeking through the black sand. And what do you know, lots of fines, nice flake gold and pickers to boot!

In fairness to him, I knew what to look for. This wasn't ordinary bedrock. It had been under the water for ten years at least (the river channel had shifted). However, just being under water wasn't what made it so sweet. Its structure was engineered with hundreds of perpendicular plates, from two to three inches high, bedded on top of more solid bedrock. I knew that these little plates had been sluicing and holding heavies for many years. All I did was clean those riffles out.

There was no movement of volume to get gold that day, just patience, past knowledge, and the understanding to recognize a likely spot.

So, guess what the rookie did the rest of the day? He staked his spot then and there on the bedrock and worked until the sun went to bed. When he stumbled back to camp that night, he had a nice catch of sassy gold, and his very first picker! You'd have thought he'd found the Hand of Faith nugget the way he carried on around the fire, and I was proud of him for what he’d learned and earned.

The lesson in this tale is with bedrock, rookies don't give it the respect it’s due. Most prospecting books don't give it due respect either. Yet, it's one of the most productive places to check to catch a nice little pile of gold, and often enough, a nugget or two.

Too many rookies head off to dig holes, move big rocks, strain muscles, sweat and swear to find a speck or two of gold. But, for a solid shot at getting nice gold in a small area with a small amount of volume, good bedrock can’t be beat.

All the best,

Lanny

[Jim_Alaska]

Great story Lanny. I too love bedrock, even away from the water where the river used to be.
I also like being able to get a rookie started. It is so rewarding to see the look and hear the account of the finds.

[Lanny]

I agree Jim, nothing much better than seeing someone else figure out how to get the gold. Love to see someone else with a healthy case of gold fever.

All the best,

Lanny

[Lanny]

Gold Field Invasion

Well, it’s time for another story about the land of bedrock and gold. However, I have to give a backstory before I get into my gold tale (that will be the next story after this one).

I had a chance to head to the goldfields one day. The problem was, I would only be there part of a day, spend the night, and then come right back out.

The main reason for the trip was to head to camp and see how everything had wintered. (I’d tried, but failed to get to camp earlier, due to the ice and snow of the high elevation.) When I arrived, everything looked fine on the outside of the two living quarters. To check the inside, I opened the first one. All was tight and dry, nothing damaged after six months of snowy isolation, high in the cedar and pine covered mountains of the Rockies.

I checked the other outfit to see how it had wintered. As soon as I opened the door, disaster! There were bits of foam all over the floor, and a large corner of the table cushion was torn open, with chunks of foam on the other cushions as well.

Stepping farther inside to look at the sleeping area, the curtains above the windows, on all three sides, had holes torn all along the tops! Some had smaller holes in their mid-sections too. The bed cushions had fragments of the fabric torn loose as well. Yet, there was no strong rodent stench that accompanies a packrat invasion. That stumped me, as the place sure looked like the packrats had hit it.

Stumped, I searched the entire trailer. I found that one of the curtain rods over a side window was knocked loose from its brackets, but that was it.

To see what had happened in invisible places, I removed all the cushions, opened all the forward storage, but found nothing. Even the stash of toilet paper was unmolested, as were all of the other items stored up front.

I checked out the bathroom, but no ratty guests had been there. It was exactly the way I’d left it in the fall.

I opened the drawers by the sink and stove next, a true scene of mayhem. All kinds of organic things were stuffed into them that weren’t there in the fall, with regular items rearranged, all shoved into different drawers. Searching further, I found a nest on the shelf under the sink, a nest the size of a basketball! It was round, made of soft ferns and moss, and the vegetation was fresh and moist.

After, I removed the nest and cleaned the drawers, I opened every space and searched every spot with a powerful flashlight, but no intruders. This only deepened the mystery.

Determined to solve it, I went outside and crawled under the RV with my eye-ball melting flashlight and searched from stem to stern. The bottom was covered in solid metal, no entry points anywhere.

I went back inside to see if I’d missed something. While searching the compartments under the bed, I heard the sound of little running feet above my head. “Oh rats”, I thought. “The home-wrecker must be in the ceiling!” But, as I listened to it running around, it moved far too fast for something plowing through ceiling insulation. So, I hopped outside and quickly climbed to the roof of the other unit to look back to see what was going on.

There on the roof was a squirrel with a pinecone clutched in its paws, all frantic and stressed out, while continually looking over the far edge of the outfit. I hopped down and ran to that far side, and there I saw something I’d completely missed while pulling in to camp. A small spruce was bent over (most likely by heavy snowfall), and it was leaning against the small vent window of the sleeping area. A hole had been torn in the window screen that allowed year-round ventilation. All at once it made sense to me; the break-in mystery was solved.

I had been the victim of a squirrel home invasion, and it had only happened a few days before I’d hit camp or the unit would have been torn to bits. Thank heavens there was no nest of babies to deal with, or worse still, an entire family of squirrels partying inside.

Regardless, it was clear that mama had loads of fun tearing around on my curtains, her fabric amusement ride for a few days. I was so lucky it hadn’t been a packrat, or I’d have had to set fire to the whole outfit. Nothing gets rid of the disgusting smell of packrat.

After I’d secured camp, I only a few hours of daylight left to play with my GPX 5000. But that story will have to wait for another day.

All the best,

Lanny

[Jim_Alaska]

Squirrels are interesting...NOT!

Down here they tear the insulation out of my roof and make a nest out of it in my truck. Somehow they get in the air intake, but bypass the filter. They make the nest right where the round screen goes into the air plenum of the fuel injection. Needless to say; I have to keep checking it because it will use lots and lots of fuel when that happens.

Yours was a good story for a late winter's night. Glad you got it figured out.

[Joe S (AK)]

A few years ago I parked a camper outside and did my absolute best to make sure no mouse or other critter could take up residence over the winter. I crawled around, did this, did that, checked every possible opening on the sides and bottom to make sure that there was a good metal barrier to keep 'em out of any opening.

The camper stayed next to the house all winter, was repeatedly covered with snow and come spring I made ready to use it. I walked up to the door and when I opened it the stench was mighty impressive. World Class, even.

I cleaned and cleaned and even dismantled what I could to scrub, scrub, scrub. After I was through going over everything I finally discovered the downfall of my theory. The snow that winter had drifted up the side of the pop-up and it stopped right about the middle of the aluminum louvers on a ventilation panel. From the outside everything looked pretty OK - but - the pesky little critters had sensed the slightly warmer air coming from the louvers (about 30 inches above the ground) and then they began to assault it with their little mousy muscles.

To start off they strolled up the snow bank to their work site and first BENT the aluminum louver just enough to the side. THAT was impressive. Then they snipped through the aluminum fly screen underneath it ("Mosquito Proof" but evidently not field mouse proof). Then, to add insult to injury they squeezed past a narrow obstruction and waltzed into the lower half of the camper.

Now, the assault really began. No food was stored inside - so they ordered out. A boatload of seeds were quickly brought in and stored everywhere. Then every bit of fabric and foam was shredded to make comfy sleep chambers for them. Of course, the guys from the first wave brought their buddies along and that was followed by the girls, the little bottles of alcohol and the party began for all winter. Baby mice, unending baby mice, then arrived because ........

By the end of the winter all ten thousand of them must have sensed that the end of the party was at hand and so they all left together by the only breach they had made - through the louver. It took me a few days to finally puzzle out their work (they had dirty feet and left tracks) to the entrance they had made which was, at that point, a full 30 inches above the ground. They had BENT the aluminum to make a 3/8" wide opening and that was all they needed.

What a mess - thank goodness for the shop vac, soap, hot water, bleach and "Good 'ole Febreze".

The only thing worse that could have happened would have been a heard of Parka Squirrels kicking them out for a long summer's party!

[Lanny]

Squirrels are interesting...NOT!

Down here they tear the insulation out of my roof and make a nest out of it in my truck. Somehow they get in the air intake, but bypass the filter. They make the nest right where the round screen goes into the air plenum of the fuel injection. Needless to say; I have to keep checking it because it will use lots and lots of fuel when that happens.

Yours was a good story for a late winter's night. Glad you got it figured out.

Jim, seems like the goldfields are loaded with pests, large (apex predator status) to the smaller rodent variety. Up here it's the packrats that get into the air filter system.

I had a friend with a Dodge diesel that was tired of their assaults, so he put a rat trap in the air filter housing. He took the truck in to be serviced one day at the dealership and forgot to tell the techs. He got an earful when he went back to pick up his truck, had to confront the tech with the fat fingers from the bite of the rat trap!

All the best,

Lanny

[Lanny]

A few years ago I parked a camper outside and did my absolute best to make sure no mouse or other critter could take up residence over the winter. I crawled around, did this, did that, checked every possible opening on the sides and bottom to make sure that there was a good metal barrier to keep 'em out of any opening.

The camper stayed next to the house all winter, was repeatedly covered with snow and come spring I made ready to use it. I walked up to the door and when I opened it the stench was mighty impressive. World Class, even.

I cleaned and cleaned and even dismantled what I could to scrub, scrub, scrub. After I was through going over everything I finally discovered the downfall of my theory. The snow that winter had drifted up the side of the pop-up and it stopped right about the middle of the aluminum louvers on a ventilation panel. From the outside everything looked pretty OK - but - the pesky little critters had sensed the slightly warmer air coming from the louvers (about 30 inches above the ground) and then they began to assault it with their little mousy muscles.

To start off they strolled up the snow bank to their work site and first BENT the aluminum louver just enough to the side. THAT was impressive. Then they snipped through the aluminum fly screen underneath it ("Mosquito Proof" but evidently not field mouse proof). Then, to add insult to injury they squeezed past a narrow obstruction and waltzed into the lower half of the camper.

Now, the assault really began. No food was stored inside - so they ordered out. A boatload of seeds were quickly brought in and stored everywhere. Then every bit of fabric and foam was shredded to make comfy sleep chambers for them. Of course, the guys from the first wave brought their buddies along and that was followed by the girls, the little bottles of alcohol and the party began for all winter. Baby mice, unending baby mice, then arrived because ........

By the end of the winter all ten thousand of them must have sensed that the end of the party was at hand and so they all left together by the only breach they had made - through the louver. It took me a few days to finally puzzle out their work (they had dirty feet and left tracks) to the entrance they had made which was, at that point, a full 30 inches above the ground. They had BENT the aluminum to make a 3/8" wide opening and that was all they needed.

What a mess - thank goodness for the shop vac, soap, hot water, bleach and "Good 'ole Febreze".

The only thing worse that could have happened would have been a heard of Parka Squirrels kicking them out for a long summer's party!

Joe, thanks for your story, reminds me of a lot of other incursions of other mountain living quarters over the years. Glad you got the smell of the mice out, but packrat is something absolutely appalling and they have to make their bodily function deposits on everything, and I mean everything.

My mining buddy went to hit the hay one night in our outfitter's tent, only to have a rude surprise. A packrat had visited and did both bodily functions on his pillow!

All the best,

Lanny

[Lanny]

A little tip about chasing gold signals in the dirt.

Because gold is so heavy, when you're trying to chase a nugget in a pile of loose ground on bedrock or packed clay (with a scoop or by hand), as soon as you disturb the soil, the target drops quickly or hugs the bottom as it slides around. When you're moving the dirt trying to pinpoint the target (with a pin-pointer or coil), any searching movement, and the target slides around, hugging the ground.

You can reproduce similar results by getting chunks of lead (flattened BB's or spent 22 caliber lead) and get a very close result as you try to capture the lead targets in loose soil. Iron or steel pieces and other lighter metals, by comparison, seem to "ride higher" in the dirt, making them easier to capture. They won't have that sluggish slow slide along the bottom that gold does.

I don't know how many times I've experienced this peculiar to gold and heavy metals quirk, it's happened a lot, but I just thought I'd share it, as for me, when I get a sluggish target in the dirt, it can be a good sign.

All the best, and hope you get some nice gold,

Lanny