Misc data and adventures of a Tayopa treasure hunter

Cactus?? you posted -->Superman first flew onto the scene 79 years ago. If you were born ten years prior to that, you better get the Tayopa open pretty soon. Just how ooooold are you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sheesh blushing yer lousing me up with the lovely gals, sniff, but how about Oct 3, 1923? What's the hurry?

Don Jose de La Mancha
 

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Nice rocks!!

We've been there a couple of times, when we lived back east. Nice place - nice people run it, too (well, at least the last time we were there).

It's really neat to have a place where the whole family can enjoy themselves.

One place I want to go - maybe this year - maybe next - is the black opal mine in Nevada. (The Royal Empress).

Beth
 

O.K., FIRST THING IS;

MRS. O, I THINK YOU SHOCKED MY COMPUTER INTO A LOCK-UP. WHEN I OPENED THIS PAGE , MY SCREEN WOULDN'T SHOW ANYTHING BELOW YOUR FIRST LINE FOR ABOUT TWO MINUTES.
THEN IT LET ME SEE THE REST. I AM RELIEVED AFTER READING THE REST OF YOUR POST.

SECOND THING..... DON JOSE, YOU ASKED ABOUT "HAIRY CHESTED MACHOS."
THE FOLLOWING EXCERPT FROM MY BOOK SHOWS THE CAUSE OF MY CHEST HAIR TURNING FROM BLACK TO GRAY.

As I started over the edge, Jim traveled around to an adjacent bluff to guide me to the carvings that he could see. I dropped from one landing to another and then to another. As I stood in this small triangular landing, I looked up to see Jim pointing to a spot just to my right. It was a flat spot about four feet tall and six feet long with several carvings. At its base was a ledge less than a foot wide.



My first thought was “You want me to what?” There they were. Jim had seen them from the ground and now I could see them. I pulled out my chalk and started filling in the lines, and before I knew it I was standing all of the way out on the other end of the ledge, chalking in every line and scrape that I could find.

I started at the top and worked my way down. Gravity was no longer a law. It had somehow become just a good idea with little to do with me.


Jim spotted one after another and I just kept filling them in.


When I got back to my little triangle landing I noticed that just below my feet was the odd rock in the hole that Jim and I had checked the previous week.
I was so close to getting a good look into it, but I was out of landings and rope. I could have disconnected from the rope and swung out on the safety strap but there was no return. It was time to close the door on this insanity.
 

Hairy chested brutes, hmm. While I can't claim to fit that description, my son in law is of the brawny, body building sort (literally). Which brings me to my next tale.

Beth and I had bought three mules, with an eye to taking them to AZ with us as pack animals. Two males and one female; the female was broke, but was very nasty and killed two of our own dogs. The two males had never been touched by man, from their birth they had been allowed to run as wild animals which is how we got them. After a year of working with them, the two males turned out to be very mild mannered, even like pets and would follow us around like puppies. The one male in particular, named Pelham, became very protective of Beth.

Enter future son-in-law; he paid us a visit, and as Beth was out in the pasture, he walked out to talk with her, muscles bulging. He was raised in suburbia and had little experience with farms or farm animals, but as far as I knew, feared nothing. When he got close to Beth, he went to give her a hug, which Pelham saw - <he was as usual following her as she was walking the fence line checking fence> and immediately reacted. Son-in-law sees a large red mule, showing all his teeth with his ears pinned back, charging straight at him and making a very nasty sound at the same time. Next thing I saw (I was some distance away but could see the proceedings) future son-in-law, muscles and all, was standing "treed" balanced on the top of a fence post in the middle of the field. The mule kept him there until we could get the critter to calm down and put him in the barn. I didn't think that a man of that size could balance on top of a fence post that is maybe three inches in diameter, but with the proper motivation it proved to be quite possible after all. ;D Our son-in-law however became very reluctant to enter the pasture, if any of the mules were in it from then on.

Our home burned not long after this and we had to sell the mules (along with lots else) to raise money to build something to live in, so that was the end of our experience with mules - never got to take them out as pack animals to the desert.

Your turn,
Roy

:coffee2: :coffee: :coffee2:
 

Mrs. Oroblanco,

The singer that sang "Esta Tarde Vi Llover" was Armando Manzanero.

Homar
 

mrs.oroblanco said:
Nice rocks!!

We've been there a couple of times, when we lived back east. Nice place - nice people run it, too (well, at least the last time we were there).

It's really neat to have a place where the whole family can enjoy themselves.

One place I want to go - maybe this year - maybe next - is the black opal mine in Nevada. (The Royal Empress).

Beth
Click to expand...

I wanna go too.

There are several opal mines open to the public in Nevada, however the one I think you are referring to is the "Royal Peacock Opal Mine" their black fire opal is out of this world!

 

Goodyguy,

Yep - you are right - brain fart on my end. There was a stone somewhere called the Royal Empress.

I think, the last time I checked, they charged like $125.00 per day, now it is $180, but we have a couple of friends who far outweighed what they paid, and you get to dig right in the bank - not some hand-picked dirt. Also - you get your own "claim", for the day - you don't have to be afraid to eat lunch and have someone else take your spot.

My one friend, after cutting and mounting, had a ring, 2 earrings and a necklace made from some of his finds, worth more than $15,000, with some stones left over. (tried to talk him out of a piece, but..........not even if I paid him). Since then, I have seen it on that treasure show on tv, and I just HAVE to go.

Beth



http://royalpeacock.com/fee-digging
 

Afternoon Beth, right here in Alamos I had an opal mine. it was in a blue silica base with Green and Blue, no Red. apparently the spheres were not of the right size for red. Still very pretty, but it is in a hard matrix. difficult to get out without damaging the Opal.

A friend once showed me some fragments of basalt with the interior completely covered with interlocking small pieces of aligned precious Opal

Also have Amethyst near by. One large piece was sold to a gringo bank for a display for $5,000 dollars. unfortunately not by me. Up at Tayopa, the mine next to the remedios contains lots of precious amethyst.

Jose.
 

Jose - and et al....................

Time to get into the "potty" humor. Not really humorous when it happens, but funny in hindsight.

Now - you men - you have it a little easier than us women. Especially if you have to pee. You can just turn your back and do your thing. Women, on the other hand, have multiple issues. First, you have to get half un-dressed. Then, you have to find a spot where you can squat, without squatting into something. (be it cactus, scorpions or snakes). Then, you either have to wait and drip dry (shaking doesn't work), or, carry around tissue, and then figure out what to do with it until you can dispose of it. That - is if everything goes well. Often - it doesn't.

I remember one fine April day - warm - a great day to be out. And, out fishing we went. (we also took the detectors, they go everywhere). Well, it was the first week of trout season, and all the good spots were packed. We found a slightly out of the way spot, and hit the water. Of course, we brought our big quart cups of coffee with us. Long about a hour or so later, the coffee did what it does every morning to my system. In one end, and out the other.
Look around - there are now alot more people (men) there then there was an hour ago. Pulled in my pole, grabbed some tissues, and told Roy I was going for a little walk.

Well, the little walk turned into a long, long walk. Everywhere I went, there were fishermen (99% men). So, I did a little side hike, and finally, I found a spot that had nobody around. By that time, I had to go so bad, I think my eyes were floating. I took off all the gear to undo my britches, squatted and finally---------------relief. As this was actively occurring, I looked up, because I thought I heard something - not that I was even able to stop if I wanted to - and what did I see? Interstate 81, with a car parked, and a guy in a yellow jacket, standing, watching me, with his arms crossed, smiling. When he saw me look at him, he waved. So, I did the only thing I could.........I waved back. :dontknow:

Beth
 

Oh! Beth that was so funny to read, I understand completely what you are saying. ha ha. Strange thing is men don't seem to care much where they go or who is around. they just kinda look as if they are enjoying the scenery.


'U'
 

HI : tonight, for personal reasons, I am reminded of Kipling's, poem "IF".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!


Rudyard Kipling
 

I love that poem, Jose, and have read it often. It says so much besides the given words..........

And, I also enjoyed your wedding story. I do believe it was quite a compliment.


Unicorn,

Since I have spent most of my life doing "outdoor" things - I have LOTS of those kinds of stories/situations. Some less pleasant than others.

Jose,

If you think peeing in -60 degrees is bad, try having to drop your drawers in the same weather.(though, honestly, I think the closest I ever got to doing that was at -41 degrees, a couple of years ago.

You don't just have to unzip a few zippers. Being dressed for that kind of weather, means taking off everything that makes you dressed for that kind of weather, first the snow suit down to the ankles, then the drawers, then the thermal underwear - and.......................let me tell you, making sure all those clothes are out of your way when you are ready, is an art in itself. At -41, ground is frozen, so pee makes a puddle, it doesn't soak into the ground, so you also have to make sure you scrabble your way away from the puddle before you stand up to get all your clothing back on!!! However, on a more interesting note - I learned a long time ago how to pee into a pop can or bottle, and I can write in the snow!! :laughing7: :laughing7: :laughing7: :laughing7: :laughing7: :laughing7:


:coffee2: :coffee2: :coffee2:


Beth
 

Beth, I just have to get my video to working, I can just visualize the bodily movments from behind, fascinating. Prob beats either Char or Abbie lane singing / wriggling a sexy, Latina song. sheehs blushing.

Don Jose de La Mancha
 

Beth, the more I read, the more I am laughing, every single thing you describe, the more I, and most all other ladies can relate to.
We should have a ladies only forum on here, bet there would be alot of funny stories, but then you just know that the menfolk will be having a quick peek at it. Thanks for giving me a good laugh Beth. :laughing9:


'U'
 

I do luv that piece by Kipling Don Jose, thank you for posting it.
I wanted to post a piece by Robbie Burns, Scotlands famous poet, but then had second thoughts as maybe folk might not understand the words, so the meaning might be lost. But a line from it might suffice.
'A man's a man for or that'
Take care my good friend. :icon_sunny:


'U'
 

Unicorn,

You are right - we have our own set of problems - without a doubt. One thing I WILL say - never, never, never - wear overalls. (the osh-b-gosh type, with the straps).

Suffice it to say - one never knows where those darn straps end up when you are in the middle of things. But, I guarantee, you WILL find out when you are done! :tongue3: :laughing7: :laughing7: :laughing7: :laughing7:

Jose,

Put THAT is your camera and film it!!!!!!!!! :love9: :coffee2: :coffee2:


Beth
 

I was 13 years old when we moved from the water up about 30 miles into the country. It was a very hard time . Leaving your childhood home ,friends and the only life you ever knew. My father bought us a house on 16 acres fenced with a barn. He wanted to do the farm thing as a hobby.He was in the sheriffs dept at the time and would call and tell me to do all the farm yard choirs when he was working late. I hated it with a passion.
He had bought this milk cow and called one night and said"boy go milk the cow for me I am going to be late " He was working a murder and I knew I was stuck being a farm hand. I put the bucket under the cow fiddled with it trying go get milk out . Man,what is the secret ? After a while I figured out the process and a milking I went. Slow going. I was thinking about my old life where all I had to do was run the gill net ,cut the grass and take out the garbage and be a beach bum. Life used to be good.
Well I had about half a bucket full and my for arms were aching and somehow the cow pooped and it landed in the bucket. I still don't know how she made that shot but I got so mad I jumped up and punched the cow with all my might right in the tail bone. I almost broke my hand and the cow just looked at me like to say"so whats your problem".
Pop got home late and I told him the story. He thought it was the funniest thing ever .My hatred for that cow would keep growing over the next year or so.
 

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