Tuesday: a day of hope, and as it turned out, a good day.
It had rained overnight, so things were wet again. Extremely cold and windy, but clear skies. I drove back out to the same patch I’d been working on Monday, to see if I could find any more gold.
The plan for the morning was a grid pattern. Proper and methodical. I don’t know whether it’s because I’m getting better with the detector, or the settings were different, or it was just the ground conditions — but all I could find was junk. Every step I took, there was more junk. Small pieces of tin, littered everywhere. I spent about an hour and a half digging multiple patches, and it really was impossible to work. In the end, I gave up on that approach.
So I sat down at the back of the Prado with a tea and some more date loaf. It has become the answer to most things.
Then back out, with a slightly different strategy. If I found a really strong, booming surface target, I’d move it out of the way, see if there was anything underneath, and move on. Ignore the screamers.
Yes, I know. Monday’s second piece of gold was a screaming surface target. I’m aware of the flaw in this plan.
On the way back towards the car, about five metres from it, a target came through. Not a screaming, off-the-charts target. This one needed some digging. And sure enough, there it was: a 0.2 gram nugget, five metres from the car.
On the first day, Tony’s first safety rule was that the car is the base: never walk far from it. It turns out the gold follows the same rule.
Then I moved away slightly, down the slope, to see if there was anything else. Another target — again, not booming. Just strong, but not one that oversaturated the coil. Dug it, and found a tiny, tiny nugget.
There were about five other small targets in that area. I dug every one. Every one was junk. Which brings me to the conclusion that other people had obviously been here before me, found all that junk, and left without bothering to find the gold.
In my mind, that doesn’t show I’ve got great technique. It just shows that I keep at it — and that’s what got me this gold.
That was it for the finds.
I drove back to Hoover House and got showered, because I was meeting up with Tony for dinner. A fantastic, kind guy, with a unique perspective on life. I really enjoyed his company, and we had a good laugh. I just felt comfortable.
But the highlight of the day wasn’t the gold, and it wasn’t dinner. It was sitting on the tailgate of the Prado, just listening to the wind. Sun on my face. No cares, no problems. Not prospecting. Just comfortable, listening to the sound of the wind.
I felt alive in a way I haven’t for some time. That’s a precious life moment.
The nugget tally is now seven.
Well — I’ll leave it there.