BuckleBoy
Gold Member
Hello All,
I knew that this title would raise a few eyebrows. This post is about just what the title suggests--learning when to call it quits. I made this little discovery when I was going back through my detecting journal (where I log the number of hours detecting/finds made/place/directions/GPS coordinates/time spent pursuing research). I found two perplexing years since I first started (April of 1992) that my silver coin and relic recoveries were slim to none. These were 1994 and 1995, as is evident from the chart below:
Fact is, I had forgotten all about what frustrating years these were and I didn't remember why until I started re-reading and investigating this. Here's what I discovered about these disappointing years:
After getting my machine and learning it, by 1993 I had started to make some great recoveries. Seated coins, a Morgan dollar, Civil War buttons and artifacts, and gold jewelry. Every Civil War site, every old coin spot that I researched heavily I had found, and they had all paid off. In short, I thought my research skills were invincible. Then in the spring of '94 I decided to research and eventually locate two sites that I knew would be great bets for CW items and colonial coins, buttons, and artifacts. One was the site of a regular, quarterly, week-long company muster of colonial troops for training purposes (which the surrounding townfolk attended in droves to watch). The other was a small Civil War campsite I had found mention of in a soldier's diary. Coming off my triumphs from the previous year, both of these sites, I felt, were within my grasp.
As the cream-colored bars indicate in the above diagram, I spent virtually endless hours researching the two sites. I meticulously collected every shred of information I could on them. I had learned even by that point in my young career as a detectorist that information gathered saved vast amounts of time in the field. I then spent hours upon hours detecting farmers' fields where my research had led me. Then time detecting fields that were runner-up possibilities. In the case of the Civil War campsite, I think I detected 90% of the fields in the valley around that little town without so much as a dropped three-ringer. This went on during the majority of my detecting outings for two solid years.
When I had finally been able to give up on my hopes of finding the two sites, I was driving out of the town where the CW camp should have been, and I passed the old virgin churchyard where I found some of my only decent finds that year. They were tearing the old church down. I got out of the car to poke around a bit, and I found a crate laying with the junk and timber that had been torn out of the church. The crate was pieced together from several other earlier crates (an early form of recycling, no doubt), and several of its side panels had old painted adresses on them. One of the adresses consisted of a soldier's name and rank, the letters C.S.A., and the little town's name. The weight of frustration was unbearable that afternoon.
So here are my words--and I don't know if they are wise or not. If I had happened to find either one of those sites, it is true that I would have made some spectacular recoveries during those years. But I will also say that I should have known when to direct my interests elsewhere. Projects and goals are good, but with detecting variety is the spice of life. We should all learn when to "give up" and put something on the back burner for a while. Putting down the research and coming back to it later gives us new perspectives, and it can be much healther for our metal detecting psyche.
Regards,
Buckleboy
I knew that this title would raise a few eyebrows. This post is about just what the title suggests--learning when to call it quits. I made this little discovery when I was going back through my detecting journal (where I log the number of hours detecting/finds made/place/directions/GPS coordinates/time spent pursuing research). I found two perplexing years since I first started (April of 1992) that my silver coin and relic recoveries were slim to none. These were 1994 and 1995, as is evident from the chart below:
Fact is, I had forgotten all about what frustrating years these were and I didn't remember why until I started re-reading and investigating this. Here's what I discovered about these disappointing years:
After getting my machine and learning it, by 1993 I had started to make some great recoveries. Seated coins, a Morgan dollar, Civil War buttons and artifacts, and gold jewelry. Every Civil War site, every old coin spot that I researched heavily I had found, and they had all paid off. In short, I thought my research skills were invincible. Then in the spring of '94 I decided to research and eventually locate two sites that I knew would be great bets for CW items and colonial coins, buttons, and artifacts. One was the site of a regular, quarterly, week-long company muster of colonial troops for training purposes (which the surrounding townfolk attended in droves to watch). The other was a small Civil War campsite I had found mention of in a soldier's diary. Coming off my triumphs from the previous year, both of these sites, I felt, were within my grasp.
As the cream-colored bars indicate in the above diagram, I spent virtually endless hours researching the two sites. I meticulously collected every shred of information I could on them. I had learned even by that point in my young career as a detectorist that information gathered saved vast amounts of time in the field. I then spent hours upon hours detecting farmers' fields where my research had led me. Then time detecting fields that were runner-up possibilities. In the case of the Civil War campsite, I think I detected 90% of the fields in the valley around that little town without so much as a dropped three-ringer. This went on during the majority of my detecting outings for two solid years.
When I had finally been able to give up on my hopes of finding the two sites, I was driving out of the town where the CW camp should have been, and I passed the old virgin churchyard where I found some of my only decent finds that year. They were tearing the old church down. I got out of the car to poke around a bit, and I found a crate laying with the junk and timber that had been torn out of the church. The crate was pieced together from several other earlier crates (an early form of recycling, no doubt), and several of its side panels had old painted adresses on them. One of the adresses consisted of a soldier's name and rank, the letters C.S.A., and the little town's name. The weight of frustration was unbearable that afternoon.
So here are my words--and I don't know if they are wise or not. If I had happened to find either one of those sites, it is true that I would have made some spectacular recoveries during those years. But I will also say that I should have known when to direct my interests elsewhere. Projects and goals are good, but with detecting variety is the spice of life. We should all learn when to "give up" and put something on the back burner for a while. Putting down the research and coming back to it later gives us new perspectives, and it can be much healther for our metal detecting psyche.
Regards,
Buckleboy
You are a shining example for others.
