Bedrock and Gold: The mysteries . . .

[Lanny in AB]

Do you love to chase the gold? Please join me--lots of gold hunting tips, stories of finds (successful and not), and prospecting poetry.

Nugget in the bedrock tip:

I had a visit with a mining buddy this past weekend, and he told me of an epic battle to get a nugget out of the bedrock, and of what he learned from the experience. I thought some of you might like to learn from his mistake.

While out detecting one day, he came across a large sheet of bare bedrock. The bedrock was exposed because the area had been blasted off with a water cannon (a monitor), by the old-timers! It was not fractured bedrock, in fact it was totally smooth.

He was not optimistic at all of the prospects of a nugget. But, for some reason (we've all been there) he decided to swing his detector over that bedrock. After a long time, just as he was about to give up on his crazy hunch, he got a signal, right out of that smooth bedrock.

There was no crevice, no sign of a crevice, nada! So, he had to go all the way back to camp to get a small sledge and a chisel. The signal in the rock intrigued him, but he still wasn't overly optimistic. For those of you that have chased signals in a similar situation, sometimes there's a patch of hot mineralization in the bedrock that sounds off, but this spot, according to him, was sharp and clear right in the middle of the signal, not just a general increase of the threshold like you get when you pass over a hot spot in the bedrock.

Anyway, he made it back to the spot and started to chisel his way into the bedrock. If any of you have tried this, it's an awful job, and you usually wind up with cut knuckles--at the least! Regardless, he kept fighting his way down, busting out chunks of bedrock. He kept checking the hole, and the signal remained very strong.

This only puzzled him all the more as he could clearly see that it was solid bedrock with no sign of any crevice. He finally quit at the end of the day, at a depth of about a foot, but still, nothing in the hole.

An experienced nugget shooting friend dropped by the next morning to see him, and asked him how the hunt was going. My buddy related his tale of the mysterious hole in the bedrock, and told the friend to go over and check it out, and see if he could solve the riddle.

Later in the day, the other nugget hunter returned. In his hand was a fine, fat, sassy nugget. It weighed in at about an ounce and a quarter! After my friend returned his eyeballs to their sockets and zapped his heart to start it again, he asked where the nugget had come from.

Imagine his surprise when he heard it came from the mystery hole!! He asked how deep the other guy had gone into the bedrock to get it. "Well, no deeper" was his reply.

So, here's the rest of the story as to what happened. When the successful nugget hunter got to the bedrock, he scanned the surface got the same strong signal as my buddy. He widened out the hole and scanned again. Still a solid tone. He widened the hole some more so he could get his coil in, and here's the key and the lesson in this story, he got a strong signal off the side of the hole, about six inches down, but set back another inch into the side of the bedrock!!

My unlucky friend, the true discoverer of the gorgeous nugget's resting place had gone deep past the signal while digging his hole!!

Now, of course, a good pinpointer would easily solve this problem. The problem was, my buddy didn't have one, so why would he widen the hole, right? Well, the other guy was the one with more experience, and that's why he did. It was a lot more work, but what a payoff!

So, my buddy's butt is still black and blue from where he kicked himself for the next week or so for having lost such an incredible prize.

Some nugget hunting lessons are harder than others to learn. . . .

All the best,

Lanny


P.S. When in gold country--check the bedrock, regardless of whether it looks likely or not! Mother Nature likes to play games sometimes.

 

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[Eyeball]

Some time ago I was off on one of my California gold rush country explorations just me and my two buddies, Woof & Intrepid. I was camped close to the river mostly to be away from the bugs though the location made for easy camp water and washing up. Most days I was gone from camp anywhere from 8 to 12 hours exploring side canyons, hidden pools, old workings and such, there was more than enough to keep a younger man busy just nosing around. After returning to the camp on one of those long exploration days I caught a nice bunch of Rainbow Trout and had a nice dinner. I was in my "easy chair" with the camp fire burning nicely, Woof & Intrepid sitting on top of the tent the camp was at peace and I deserved the relaxation after the exertions of the day.
''
The river was running nicely splashing into the boulders and ever flowing down river into many other gorges and canyons. The sun was getting close to the high rim of the canyon around me and all was well with the world. Slowly at first I began to pick out sounds. After a bit the sounds became soft spoken words. Eventually there were quite a few people talking though I was not quite able to make out what they were saying, but there were people talking. Suddenly across the river in the woods a man yelled out a name, I mean Yelled. Someone was lost and he must be looking for them! I yelled back quite loudly 'HELLO'!

Instantly all the talking ceased. The man across the river never answered my call. There was nothing left but the sweet sound of the river splashing over the rocks. I looked at the boys and nodded at them, they never even moved.

I'm telling this just like it happened............63bkpkr

Oh, the only aromas in the air were from the pine trees, no rice was cooking.

That was a nice way to describe your day of rewards and relaxation Herb, even without the rice.
You truly are "The backpacker", and one who has confidence and protective friends on his travels, that's always a good planning.
Hearing voices in the wilderness, yours were real, but I wonder about the ones I hear sometimes lol.
Keep safe and active buddy, John.

 

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[Lanny in AB]

Deep Canyon Ghost Camp

We’d heard rumours, but we’d never followed up on the information . . .

We were told to head down the logging road until we saw a large area off to the left side that had a designated winter pull-out for vehicle parking. After we’d found the spot, we were supposed to check the forest behind the pull-out for an old trail, and by following the trail, it would lead us down the mountain into a steep canyon where the Old Timers had taken out lots of chunky gold, and all of their work was done by hand as the gold was shallow to bedrock; shallow diggings, the Old Timer’s bread, butter, and cream. Furthermore, there was supposed to be an old cabin where a highly successful miner had been found dead. His body was discovered during the deep winter snows, and only located weeks after he’d died, but his cache had never been found. So, it seemed like a good spot to investigate.

We grabbed a couple of detectors, some bear spray, a flare gun with bear bangers, some sniping tools, a couple of pans, and off we went.

Not far into the trees we found an old cabin, but it wasn’t quite old enough for the stories we’d been told, but it did have some cool items in it; however, there were no other structures, and we’d been told there were “cabins”.

We carried on, picking up the thread of the trail, but we got crossed by some deadfall. Working our way through, we were soon on our way downslope. In short order, the steep trail dropped in pitch even more, and the surrounding forest was extremely quiet, which was unexpected.

We were in an area of dense growth, but no buildings were visible anywhere. As we rounded a bend in the trail, we saw a collapsed roof, and under the roof, the drooping remains of a log structure. Off to the right at about a 45-degree angle, there was a building that had obviously been a workshop at one time, as lots of cast off materials and machinery parts surrounded it.

In front of us, right off the trail to our left, was an old root cellar, and someone had been digging behind it, throwing out all of the old cans and bottles. To our immediate right was a building and part of the roof was beginning to collapse. What was interesting is that under an intact portion, there were still many cords of cut firewood.

As the steepness of the descent increased, we came upon a large, long log building, one that had been re-roofed in more modern times. To elaborate a bit, the cuts of the logs where they were fitted at the ends had been beautifully done by some master builder in the past. Those logs were securely locked; it was built to weather any kind of severe force. To the left of the long building, there was a house, the roof over the porch collapsing, and when we went inside for a peek, someone had done a lot of work to cover the rooms in every ceiling with tin, and that was curious.

After poking around the surrounding buildings for a while, and after snapping some pictures, we worked our way along the edge of the cliffs to get down to the creek.

One of the first things we noticed was a hand-stacked rock wall on the opposite side, one expertly crafted on the bedrock of the creek to rise up to then intersect the cliff face. Someone went to a lot of work to stabilize that spot.

Visible above the rock wall and the cliff were countless hand-stacks of cobbles, evidence of the gold rush where the miners were working the shallow diggings to get to the easy placer. (Later on, we met a modern-day miner, and he told us there were lots of nuggets recovered in the two to three-ounce range!) As the canyon was so steep, and due to the shallow deposits, it had never been worked by mechanized mining.

My son fired up his detector and set off to see what he could find.

While he was hunting for targets, I set up to provide over-watch: we were after all in the land of the grizzly and the black, as well as the territory of the cougar.

As luck would have it, there were no encounters with apex predators, and it was a beautiful afternoon with the forest lit by golden shafts of soft sunlight that filtered down from high overhead. However, the normal symphony of mountain songbirds was absent, as were any signs of hummingbirds or butterflies, all my normal companions while chasing placer. In addition, no mountain flowers were present, reflecting the scanty soil conditions of the canyon.

As I kept watch, I moved around and noticed that every place there was any kind of a gut or a draw the miners had tossed out the cobbles to reach the bedrock bottom. In fact, I couldn’t find one place where they hadn’t excavated any likely-looking spot. Furthermore, as I looped above the area where my son was working, I came across numerous trash pits with all kinds of interesting old cans and containers, rusted evidence of either former food or fuel needs.

My son called me down to the creek where he’d isolated a target underwater, but it turned out to be a small part of an old square nail, which for whatever reason always sounds off like a good find on the pulse machine. He kept digging the rest of the afternoon and recovered countless trash targets: square nail tips and sections; intact square nails of various sizes; bits of can-slaw; a chunk of punch-plate; various pieces of wire of differing compositions; as well as chunks of lead, etc.

What he didn’t find was any gold, but that’s the way it goes in the nugget hunting game; buckets of trash get dug before the gold gets found. In retrospect, I don’t even know how many buckets of trash I dug before I found my first nugget, and I think that’s what kills most beginning nugget shooters. They give up after the first palm-full of trash or sooner. Nugget hunting requires serious dedication and patience, but when that first sassy nugget is finally in the palm, there’s nothing like it, nothing.

We gathered up our gear, took a few more pictures of the cabins and buildings on our way out, and then hit the switchbacks as we slogged our way up out of that silent canyon.

We will go back, but with a different focus this time. We’ll move some hand-stacks from some likely looking spots to give the underlying, undetected bedrock a sniff. I mean, two to three-ounce nuggets? Something had to have been missed in a crack somewhere . . .

All the best,

Lanny

 

[Terry Soloman]

Was the long building for livestock? Another superb tale Lanny!

 

[63bkpkr]

If a person explores for long enough they will eventually find their first cabin and it seems like after the first more are easier to come by. I've seen many tumbled down 'homes' of the miners from tiny one room affairs some of wood (hewn logs, milled wood) some of stacked rocks (Chinese workers I suspect), more elaborate two story buildings and a few Ten Stamp Mill houses as well as a couple just big enough to turn around in. The stuff that piques my attention is when I'm out Bushwhacking going straight up a mountain side and I come across an old cut limb, so old the cut end is black. At those moments my mind spins wondering how long ago was some other person crawling up this same hill cutting their way through the thickest of it?! Come to think of it, I've only found one obvious grave, that of Joe Steiner in Green Valley.

Thank you Lanny for the pleasure of the reading and the writing! Herb

 

[Lanny in AB]

Was the long building for livestock? Another superb tale Lanny!

Hi Terry, no, the long building was for people, so I don't know if they had a separation for males and females? A bit of a puzzle . . .

All the best,

Lanny

 

[Lanny in AB]

If a person explores for long enough they will eventually find their first cabin and it seems like after the first more are easier to come by. I've seen many tumbled down 'homes' of the miners from tiny one room affairs some of wood (hewn logs, milled wood) some of stacked rocks (Chinese workers I suspect), more elaborate two story buildings and a few Ten Stamp Mill houses as well as a couple just big enough to turn around in. The stuff that piques my attention is when I'm out Bushwhacking going straight up a mountain side and I come across an old cut limb, so old the cut end is black. At those moments my mind spins wondering how long ago was some other person crawling up this same hill cutting their way through the thickest of it?! Come to think of it, I've only found one obvious grave, that of Joe Steiner in Green Valley.

Thank you Lanny for the pleasure of the reading and the writing! Herb

Hi Herb, I appreciate your comments about cabins, and I know what a lover of wilderness adventure you are.

I've come across old cabins in the strangest places sometimes, and I'm amazed at how well some of those sites were deliberately concealed. The original builders did not want anyone that was wandering by anywhere near to have a clue they were near a cabin.

As for graves, I haven't found one in the middle of nowhere yet, just graves near old gold-rush townsites, but interestingly enough, not all of them are in the designated cemeteries; some are on lonely hillsides, down in gulches, etc.

I've even been to old cabin sites that are so old there's no wood left, just the outline in the ground of where the logs were, and crumbled bits of wood is all that's left of the old structures as Nature takes over once again.

What amazes me is the recycling that happened in a lot of cabins, old square nails and modern nails combined as a lot of cabins from the 1800's were refurbished in the rush to the goldfields in the 1930's, then again in the 50's and 60's, but it seems like from that point on, the cabins were abandoned.

Gold mining in the middle of nowhere is a tough life, and it takes a truly hardy type to make of a go of it, and most people have found an easier way to make a living in today's world. (If anyone ever tries to tell you gold mining is an easy life, they've never been serious about depending on finding gold.)

All the best,

Lanny

 

[63bkpkr]

[ Quote from Lanny:Gold mining in the middle of nowhere is a tough life, and it takes a truly hardy type to make of a go of it, and most people have found an easier way to make a living in today's world. (If anyone ever tries to tell you gold mining is an easy life, they've never been serious about depending on finding gold.) ]

I may have touched on this realization once or twice! But I still go out. The snow in the NorCal Sierras is still melting though the CFS flows on "MY" river are going down, so that's good!!

"But I still go out" - IF the conditions look right I will head North in 16 days. Likely I will stop along the way to visit friends so it may take me till 20 days before I crest the 7000' ridges.

I've a job waiting for me on my return. "IF" it works out as well as hoped then I will move to a different state ASAP, Idaho is the most likely state though I hear they do not like Californians and I can not blame them. I will explain that originally I'm from Michigan, that might give me a chance to show them I'm OK.

Regards, Herb

 

[Lanny in AB]

[ Quote from Lanny:Gold mining in the middle of nowhere is a tough life, and it takes a truly hardy type to make of a go of it, and most people have found an easier way to make a living in today's world. (If anyone ever tries to tell you gold mining is an easy life, they've never been serious about depending on finding gold.) ]

I may have touched on this realization once or twice! But I still go out. The snow in the NorCal Sierras is still melting though the CFS flows on "MY" river are going down, so that's good!!

"But I still go out" - IF the conditions look right I will head North in 16 days. Likely I will stop along the way to visit friends so it may take me till 20 days before I crest the 7000' ridges.

I've a job waiting for me on my return. "IF" it works out as well as hoped then I will move to a different state ASAP, Idaho is the most likely state though I hear they do not like Californians and I can not blame them. I will explain that originally I'm from Michigan, that might give me a chance to show them I'm OK.

Regards, Herb

Great to know you're planning another expedition, and just so you know, there's good gold in Idaho too (and some opal), so you won't have to stop chasing the good stuff if you move there. Lots of beautiful mountain scenery as well, plus there's miles and miles of lava tubes that house ice caverns with all kinds of cool features (literally) if poking around in such places is something your'e interested in. Lots of fun to be had in Idaho, plus some great fishing to boot.

All the best,

Lanny

 

[ProspectorALEX]

Herb, thanks for the compliment on the story, and thanks for your little story as well, enjoyed reading it.

As for the DEET, and bug spray, it does have to be used sparingly as too much is just too much for sure. I prefer Muskol brand, and it's somewhere around 30% DEET, but whatever else they put in it, works.

I always spray some on the top of my hat, on the bill, wear long-sleeve white shirts, spray around the ankles, tuck pants into socks to stop the black flies from crawling up my legs, button the top collar button on the shirt, wear gloves whenever possible, spray around shirt cuffs, spray behind ears, rub some repellent around the inside part of the ear (not down onto the eardrum), but once it gets hot, the sweat works the spray off, and the process starts all over again.

As for the materials impregnated with the chemical Owen is talking about, both DEET and Permethrin are chemicals that need to be used carefully, with Permethrin being an actual poison that truly kills bugs, whereas DEET is a repellent.

I have never seen hordes of bugs like I saw in the north, insanely huge clouds that built into living walls of bugs, nuts really how many there were, and every one of them in a big hurry to feed as the breeding season for them is much shorter than here in the southern parts closer to the US border.

The bugs really do make it quite distasteful for nugget shooting, and when headphones are worn, wherever the repellent sweats off, the bugs attack, kind of a constant battle really. Spraying the ears works quite well for general prospecting, but headphones keep the bugs out of the ear canal, but then, as previously mentioned, the sweat areas allow the bugs to attack. So, if using an external speaker, the ears would be open to attack all of the time, so tradeoffs both ways.

All the best, and thanks for your little story and for your response, much appreciated,

Lanny

I only use 100%

 

[Lanny in AB]

I only use 100%

I've never tried the 100%, but I have heard of it though. Glad you like it. Do you buy it online?

All the best,

Lanny

 

[ProspectorALEX]

Most outdoors stores here sell it in 4oz spray bottles here.

 

[Lanny in AB]

Got to do a bit of detecting for gold this summer, but not a lot, yet found some nice, sassy gold nuggets.

Spent far more time travelling and taking it easy this summer than I have in a long, long time.

Off to visit warmer climates for a while, going to take a break from the land of the frozen chosen.

All the best,

Lanny

 

[63bkpkr]

Hello Lanny, there are those times when things do not go as expected, I had a summer full of them. The first trip ended quickly as I thought I may have damaged
the surgery to my left shoulder. It took a month before I could be seen by an Orthopedic Doctor and only a few minutes for him to tell me the shoulder was fine.

Well, if its fine I'm going back out! Reached the mountains in early September. Took a few light hikes just to test things out and I was OK. My first effort would be
to locate that massive quartz deposit, it turned out to be a lot of effort. In 2009 the area had been involved in a heavy duty forest fire, burning many trees right to
their tops. Those trees became weaker and then recently snapped off and as gravity is still viable the trees fell to the ground, lots of them fell. When the trunks hit
the tall bushes, the bushes sort of flattened out in all directions and covered my trail over. So I managed to find another way down the hill. As I walked the last
fallen tree and just before I stepped off of it I noticed the ground below me had been cleared down to dirt. I've never seen anything like this before. I stepped from
the log and inspected the dirt for tracks but could see nothing. At the furthest edge of the open dirt patch was a large bush with sunlight coming from the back of the
bush. I looked into the illuminated bush but saw nothing but bush. I walked around the bush and past it, I then noticed on the back side of the bush another patch
of exposed dirt. I walked out maybe 60 feet from the bush to confirm I was through the worst of the mess, it was now 3 PM and not wanting to over exert myself
I decided to return up the hill to my Bronco to spend the night. Up past the bush, walk across the dirt spot, back up on the log and onto my new trail and then
behind me was a lot of noise. I turned to see a Black Bear exiting the bush, it turned away from me and ran through the heavy cover on the hillside. I had been
3 to 5 feet from the bear in that bush!

I did not return to that spot as I realized there was a large quantity of ripe berries in the area that could be drawing more than one bear to them and with the heavy
brush I would not see them and at some point one of them would come out to shake hands with me. Drat! The next hike down the canyon wall to the river did not
go well either as the trail had seen a great deal of erosion in the past two years making it super hard to hike it. In fact, the trail nearly did me in. So, 2019 hiking
did not go well and the job I thought I had went away. Sigh

I hope you summer was very enjoyable............63bkpkr

 

[Lanny in AB]

Hello Lanny, there are those times when things do not go as expected, I had a summer full of them. The first trip ended quickly as I thought I may have damaged
the surgery to my left shoulder. It took a month before I could be seen by an Orthopedic Doctor and only a few minutes for him to tell me the shoulder was fine.

I hope you summer was very enjoyable............63bkpkr

I enjoyed reading of your summer adventure and misadventure. I'm glad to know that you came out on the good side of a bear encounter. I've had many, and only a few were sketchy, as the rest of the bears quickly hightailed it for the trees, much like yours did. The problem bears are the ones to watch out for, and it sounds like yours wasn't one of that nasty type.

It's amazing how quickly nature can change a trail or an entire forest, so it's sad you didn't get to investigate the areas you'd been planning on visiting, yet I understand and can relate to your frustrations.

I am glad to hear that your shoulder is doing well, as you are yourself.

Good to know you got out there, but sad to hear that the job didn't materialize. . . .

Had a great summer as I spent most of it with family and friends, but I did get in a tiny bit of metal detecting/nugget shooting at the very end of the season, found nine nuggets that day, largest just under six grams, fun afternoon!

All the best,

Lanny

 

[Lanny in AB]

Catch and Release Gold:

Did something the end of the summer season I haven't done before.

I went to visit a friend of mine that runs a large placer operation.They had made a cut 70 feet deep to bedrock, and they'd piled the dirt up near their huge washplant to be processed. After the large run was finished, there was a small pile of pay left on the big area they'd scraped to push up the remainder of the piled paydirt.

My friend told me to take my detector over to the pile to have a bit of fun. I was shocked by his offer, but of course, I giddy-upped to the site and started swinging my detector. Within minutes I had my first repeatable good signal that was pinning at 40 on the Bug Pro. Using my Garrett Carrot, I'd soon pinpointed a nice, flat nugget in the pile.

I kept working my way around the pile, up and over the pile, and worked my way carefully all the way around the bottom of the pay-pile. In this way, I recovered 5 sassy nuggets, which was much like shooting fish in a barrel, but way more fun.

However, my gold fever brain kept nudging me to try to the scraped area around the pile, a much larger undertaking, so I headed out into the wilderness of flatness . . .

About ten feet out from the pile, I got a good signal under a rock about twice the size of my fist. At least, that's what I thought. But, when I levered the rock out (which was a hot rock), the signal was more to the front of the rock (as it faced the direction of the pay pile). The hot rock had been distorting the signal.

I scanned the hole again where the rock had been, and sure enough, the signal was coming from the area described above, and its signal was pinning in the 60 range on the digital display of the Bug Pro. I used the Garrett Carrot to pinpoint the signal, and it sure came back nice and loud! Moreover, I could see the edge of the nugget.

I reached down at the tip of the Carrot and pulled out a flat and sassy nugget of just under six grams! (The flatness was likely why it read so high on the digital meter.)

I kept working the scraped area and recovered another three nuggets, so by the time the rain hit to stop the party, I'd pulled out nine sweet nuggets in total, weighing in at over a third of an ounce.

It was a fun way to spend a couple of hours.

Of course there were lots of bits of steel blade and track shavings, but the gold was consistent due to the loaded nature of the area I was working.

I made my way over to my friend's truck to show him what I'd found, and he was surprised that I'd found the biggest nuggets in the scraped area, and he assured me they would sure scrape deep before they were finished with the pay-pile area.

I decided to give him all nine of the nuggets, even though he wanted me to keep some of them, as he's been great to me over the years to let me detect on his claims wherever and whenever.

Fun, fun catch and release day.

All the best,

Lanny

 

[Terry Soloman]

You're a good man Charlie Brown!

 

[Lanny in AB]

You're a good man Charlie Brown!

Thanks Terry, appreciate you dropping in to leave a comment.

All the best,

Lanny

 

[old digger]

Was kind of getting worried, haven't seen you around for a while. Glad to see that your back, and felt that you were on to something good.

 

[Lanny in AB]

Was kind of getting worried, haven't seen you around for a while. Glad to see that your back, and felt that you were on to something good.

Thanks, and great to hear from you again; moreover, I hope things are going well for you in the great state of Montana!

All the best,

Lanny

 

[Lanny in AB]

Warning, annual prospecting poetry!

The Ballad of Shifty Eye and Curly Sue:

A handsome thing, named Shifty Eye,
Just never worked, nor would he try.
Yet he was always flush with dough.
Well, this set folks to wonder so

Just where that Shifty got his cash.
Was Shifty doin’ something brash?
Like robbin’ sluices in the dark?
At night the dogs would often bark . . .

Some clean-ups seemed a little thin.
Was this ol' Shifty’s sure-fire win?
So, guards was set at every claim
To see if this were Shifty’s aim.

In spite of this, they never found
If Shifty had been sniffin’ ‘round
That sluiced up gold of Montanny,
Fer Shifty, he was right canny.

All dressed in black on darkest night,
He’d rob a sluice and do it right.
He never took the total take,
As that would be a huge mistake.

A bit from here, a pinch from there,
He’d do his shopping everywhere!
Yes, equal opportunity
Described his actions perfectly.

He wasn’t dumb, nor was he thick
His brain was rather quick and slick
It helped him tune his robber’s game,
That is, till trouble one night came.

T’was New Year’s Eve, when he got caught,
Plumb lucky that he wasn’t shot.
A doe-eyed gal named Curly Sue
Drew down on Shifty, froze him true.

But Sue was lookin’ for some fun,
‘Cause shootin’ someone with a gun
Creates a sort of end to things,
And Sue was thinkin’ wedding rings!

She’d loved that Shifty from the start;
The love got rooted in her heart
When first she’d spied him on the street.
Since then, Sue’d thought him mighty sweet.

She yelled fer Pa up in their shack
A ten-gauge shotgun he did pack!
“Now look-ee here” her pa declared,
“A sluice box robber, mighty scared.”

A miner’s court was called right quick
With Shifty lookin’ mighty sick.
They had that Shifty dead to rights
Fer robbin’ sluices all those nights.

A necktie party soon would be
The thing to stop his robbery.
But Sue declared, she loved the sot
The miner’s court devised a plot . . .

A shotgun wedding was the plan,
They all agreed, down to a man,
To hold a spree that New Year’s Eve.
(They had no will fer Sue to grieve.)

A priest was brung—some duds was found.
The miners gathered all around
While Shifty married up with Sue,
On New Year’s Eve of ’62.

A handsome thing named Shifty Eye
Learned how to work and even try.
And Curly Sue was plumb happy
She’d found a way to wed Shifty.

Happy New Year, and all the best,

Lanny