Ever heard the saying, "I'd rather be lucky than good"? Works for me. A couple of years had passed since my chicken house adventure. I'd moved back to Illinois, traded up to a Fisher 1265x I think was the model, but it was another motion detector like the Garrett.
I was living in a small town in an equally small rent house. The rent house had a basement and one room of that had a dirt floor. The room had shelves and there were some fruit jars on them Guess canning jars is the right name, but my family always called them fruit jars.
Anyhoo, they got me to thinking about those coins from that chicken house and suddenly I had a new mission.
Detecting in a building is a real treat. Ground balancing was nearly if not impossible, at least for my ability w/ the machine I had used.
I solved this problem by going outside the back door and doing the task therte free from interference. Figured dirt is dirt and I'd live w/ whatever performance I got in the basement.
I made several trips to this room on various days when the mood hit me. Same routine every time, balance and then head down the steps to the dirt floor room.
I kept noticing a kinda hit on about the 4th step from the bottom, but pretty much ignored it as electical interference or some other devil in disguise that goes w/ indoor detecting.
On my last trip up from the dirt floor, got it again. It was consistant, and seemed to be right in the middle of the wood tread. I vowed to check it out but was short on time at that point and I knew the little room formed by closing off the stairs was full of abandoned junk from someone.
I finally got around to cleaning it out which pleased my wife but we all know my true motive. I just had to see what the ding was.
It was a Prince Albert tobacco can held in place by that old time galvanized gutter strap w/ all those holes in it about an inch wide, mailed in place w/ short roofing nails.
Twelve $100 bills. Yes, I told someone. You folks just now, lol.
I was living in a small town in an equally small rent house. The rent house had a basement and one room of that had a dirt floor. The room had shelves and there were some fruit jars on them Guess canning jars is the right name, but my family always called them fruit jars.
Anyhoo, they got me to thinking about those coins from that chicken house and suddenly I had a new mission.
Detecting in a building is a real treat. Ground balancing was nearly if not impossible, at least for my ability w/ the machine I had used.
I solved this problem by going outside the back door and doing the task therte free from interference. Figured dirt is dirt and I'd live w/ whatever performance I got in the basement.
I made several trips to this room on various days when the mood hit me. Same routine every time, balance and then head down the steps to the dirt floor room.
I kept noticing a kinda hit on about the 4th step from the bottom, but pretty much ignored it as electical interference or some other devil in disguise that goes w/ indoor detecting.
On my last trip up from the dirt floor, got it again. It was consistant, and seemed to be right in the middle of the wood tread. I vowed to check it out but was short on time at that point and I knew the little room formed by closing off the stairs was full of abandoned junk from someone.
I finally got around to cleaning it out which pleased my wife but we all know my true motive. I just had to see what the ding was.
It was a Prince Albert tobacco can held in place by that old time galvanized gutter strap w/ all those holes in it about an inch wide, mailed in place w/ short roofing nails.
Twelve $100 bills. Yes, I told someone. You folks just now, lol.
