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Another dousing of that foul stench.. Followed by one helluva wild ride


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Well, went out yesterday for a little scouting in an area not often looked at in recent years.

It was with that in mind that we, Frank and I, didn't expect much of anything. But we broke out the beepers in an area that was too nice looking to not do it. Beautiful small 3-4" quartz stringers, rust, green, gray... You name it, this area should be RIPE with gold. Add to that very shallow bedrock to make my VLF happy and some old and working mines in the area.

So, I'm putting around in one area and Frank excitedly calls to me... And Framk doesn't get excited easily... Must be a cop thing.

I come over and hear his machine going nuts over a nice little stringer. S I wave mine over it and the, barely useful, iron ID bottoms out and I'm getting a clear zip-zip. No echo, no nothing I normally hear with a target that clear. Recall... This is solid rock in a great looking area.

So, out come the chisels and sledge.

I'm hammering and Frank is checking the tailings. I start seeing green stain, and even transparent green stone in the milky and rusty quartz. We're a few inches down now and finally the target is in the scoop.

We start halving the scoop and finally find it... a bullet?!?!?!? Inches down in hard rock, no entry path/hole (I had brushed the surface of the very little debris before breaking rock)???

Uh, ok. So we check again and find another target. Same thing and more lead. What in the?!?!

Finally, after four targets within 1' we are no longer getting targets and have pulled out nothing but lead.

Frank is supposed to put the lead under a scope this week, since we cannot figure out how it wound up inches down in solid rock and be a bullet.

This was only slightly more frustrating than the geocache we found in the Table Mesa area because at least that made sense.

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Actually, I will... Frank doesn't like telling stories unless in person where his delivery has the best impact.

So, we're putting along to take the long way out of the area and Frank is bouncing along in the drivers seat of the FBSYT (Former Bird Shtuff Yellow Toyota) with me riding shotgun.

The road is a little rough what with leaf springs and full street air pressure in the tires under us and Frank's boots on the pedals. Someone back me up on this here - as slow as possible, but as fast as necessary :)

Well, we come upon this slightly rutted hill and the little engine gets a bit extra go juice. As we start climbing, I hear the engine get all the go juice it could ever want and notice a slight tightening around Frank's eyes... Which means "oh crap we're gonna die" usually. That or "I gotta take a crap"... who knows sometimes.

So, here we are, bombing up this hill at break parts speed, in the middle of nowhere and the throttle is stuck wide open.

We get to a somewhat flatter spot on the hill and kill the ignition. Upon looking under the hood we see the throttle cable housing has apparently broken right before an adjustment collar. Can't see more at this time because of a rubber boot over all of it.

Well, we get that shoved back in and decide to turn around and take it easy on the way out... About 6-8 miles.

On the way down the hill the dang thing starts racing again... And this time we don't have gravity on our side.

Got to a flat spot and again we go under the hood. Quick fiddling with the cable and we're again underway.

No sooner than the engine cranked did it start up again. So, Frank kept slicing off bits of clutch as we zoomed along, bouncing parts that shouldn't be and generally rattling ourselves silly.

One last stop after a couple miles and we figure out that you can slow the engine down by pulling up on the pedal (hadn't though of this before now because I was used to non-positive engagement pedals)

About this time his wife called to add a bit of frustration to the mix, but he has to tell that one... If he feels like it.

Add to this the story Frank then decided to share about a previous experience with a stuck throttle and having a cliff involved. Needless to say my ass did need some coaxing to let go of the seat when I got out.

So, bombing along again and Frank is driving like he's in the lead of the Baja 1000 and alternating between pushing and pulling (a lot more pulling) on the pedal, but this time there's no stopping unless the law or a much larger object tells us to.

Made it out alive, Frank disassembled and repaired the throttle cable and learned a valuable lesson... The easy way isn't necessarily the right way when it comes to idle speed adjustment :)

All in all it was a fun day in the desert. And I smell like a certain black and white animal again. Still?

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Sounds like fun to me--adventure--testerone--adreneline--danger---racing---sorry no gold but ya got everything else going for ya that day--tons a au 2 u 2 -John

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Thanks for the good camp fire story Glenn....guess Franks hands are shaking to much to type or he's to

busy talking to Jesus....glad you got back alive...

Who you needed was El D....we had something simular happen to us in the Toy but we were on flat ground

and it was still dark(A.M.)....I never would have thought of it but El D. scronged around in the back of the Toy

and found one of my pieces of innertube strips abouit 1" wide....somehow he wrapped it around a few things

and the repair was better than the original broken spring...drove the Toy for over a month with that repair and

actually hated to replace it with a new spring....

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Yeah. When Frank and I go exploring it does seem to become quite an adventure in one way or another. Keeps a smile on my face thinking about the fun. Now, if only the adventure would start to include finding a couple or hundred ounces! :)

Frank had the truck fixed before the evening was done... And without new parts. He's rather a good MacGyver.

That bullet in the rock does still have me scratching my head. I said more than once that he and I were sitting on a fortune in lead... One projectile at a time... After finding that one and its friends.

Any off highway trip you can get home from is a fun one... Eventually.

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80 mile per hour up a steep dirt track over the crest of a mountain. Found out my Toyota has a rocket in its ass. Perhaps Glenn will sign me up for the desert racing team. It's the Dutchmans curse. Everytime we get near the Superstitions strange things happen. This crap always happens in the worse spot. How did lead bullets get inches down inside solid bedrock. Very old bullets.

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Took 3 hours to get back in there and 10 min to get out. When we arrived back at Glenn's house he jumped out of the truck and kissed the ground. That drive was the only time I've seen him with a loss for words

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Glenn you know we have unfinished business in that spot. Get over that mountain and down into that valley of gold. I'll low gear it up the cliff next time. Plus I'll bring some super glue just in case.

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Frank... Too true. Hell, the place is named for gold... So it must be there.

And the geology is way too right.

I still found it interesting with e quartz float and then, ten feet away and downhill there was nothing but volcanics.

Keep looking for those colors!

Was anything in the samples we brought back?

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