Misc data and adventures of a Tayopa treasure hunter

Estimado Don Jose, mi distante amigo:

Another year has gone by and amazingly we're still all here, so life must be treating us exceptionally good (or maybe only as good as it's going to get).

It's Memorial Day again here in the states and it's a good time to take a moment to be grateful for the service provided by all the men and women, both past and present, of our military. I know you have been real busy this past year getting things straight in Mexico, but from one old Jar Head to a slightly older Fly Guy, I just wanted to say “Thanks” for your time on The Canal.

I tentatively have a trip planned later this year to visit a large hardrock/heap leaching project in your part of the country. If our schedules coincide, please allow me to buy you a civilized cup of coffee and not that old nasty used underwear stuff the friend Oro forces you and your mule to drink.

Again, thanks for everything and keep up the good work on your projects.

Good luck,

John
 

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aussco999 said:
Estimado Don Jose, mi distante amigo:

Another year has gone by and amazingly we're still all here, so life must be treating us exceptionally good (or maybe only as good as it's going to get).

It's Memorial Day again here in the states and it's a good time to take a moment to be grateful for the service provided by all the men and women, both past and present, of our military. I know you have been real busy this past year getting things straight in Mexico, but from one old Jar Head to a slightly older Fly Guy, I just wanted to say “Thanks” for your time on The Canal.

I tentatively have a trip planned later this year to visit a large hardrock/heap leaching project in your part of the country. If our schedules coincide, please allow me to buy you a civilized cup of coffee and not that old nasty used underwear stuff the friend Oro forces you and your mule to drink.

Again, thanks for everything and keep up the good work on your projects.

Good luck,

John
Click to expand...

Hmm nasty old used underwear stuff? ??? :icon_scratch: :dontknow: I don't know anyone that has tried making coffee that way, and FYI it is "sock coffee" not dirty used UNDERWEAR coffee. Usually where we are camped you can not "buy" a cup of coffee for any price, you must make it yourself. No worries, I won't offer you any, and it means more coffee for me! :thumbsup: :coffee:

:coffee2: :coffee: :coffee2:
 

Ed T said:
Things are looking brighter in Mexico Oro...At least in the neck of the woods that has me my attention...They captured the head of the Cartel del Golfo yesterday... They just might get a handle of the Zetas as well...Two down and one to go...I was not around here when they caught the Chapo head of the Sinaloa Cartel... But if Mexico is anything like here in the U.S. there are already people filling their shoes...Sigh...Oh well...

Ed T
Click to expand...

Nothing lasts forever, not even powerful drug lord cartels. Hopefully this is just the beginning, and we will SOON be able to go out digging and poking around without having to worry about THEM any more.

I hope all is well with you buddy, no exciting news in this neck of the woods which I guess is good news.
Roy
 

I hope I live to see the day that they capture El Tuerto De Tayopa, that would really make my day. On film of course, uncovering the lost treasures of the Jesuits, and hope that cactusjumper is around also.:laughing7:

Oro, does your "sock" coffee pack a punch? Maybe that explains El Tuerto :wink:.

Homar
 

coazon de oro said:
I hope I live to see the day that they capture El Tuerto De Tayopa, that would really make my day. On film of course, uncovering the lost treasures of the Jesuits, and hope that cactusjumper is around also.:laughing7:

Oro, does your "sock" coffee pack a punch? Maybe that explains El Tuerto :wink:.

Homar
Click to expand...

Nah, neither does it require chewing like some cowboy coffee does. I can't speak about any "dirty underwear coffee" however, having never tried that. :dontknow:
 

Should we worry when an old friend ,bleary eyed with his morning speaks to his coffee, "I don,t recognize the face,but the breath smells familiar". ?:laughing7:
 

Oroblanco said:
Nasty cough you got there Don Jose', better have a cup of coffee - it is good for helping to clear up chest congestion! :thumbsup::coffee2:
Click to expand...

8-) Yep an' some Scotch-I mean Oirish spirits with local Honey could help clear up, er'
purify, I mean strengthen the good camp coffee medicine...
 

Real de Tayopa Tropical Tramp said:
thank you for your best wishes, although i personally believe that it is because you want to hear the evolution of 'tayopa.:laughing7::laughing7::laughing7:, and most of all, ya want to scrounge some COFFEE - - tis oro's fault --

Seriously it was shown to me that I am not immortal, despite my personal belief.

I carry too much of the intimate details mentally, oro would have an impossible task.

OK now forget about me, I am last weeks news, bring on the personal adventures, I'll supply the coffee, oro the sock and the other's the wood for the camp fire.

je te L'amor platonicallyt of course


Do Jose the one eyed Jack de la Mancha
Click to expand...

Yes, of course we like to get the tid bits of Tayopa and whatever of your other elaborate and
fantastic Knightly adventures that can sparingly be had over Good Scotch-I mean Irish coffees.

Senior, Amigo, and you of all tale tellers are keenly aware that everyone knows your coffees
are the bestest... So, we took up a collection to replenish your special blend barrel for
the next month or two (depending on # of drop in company)...
Anyway, here's a long wide flatbed stacked high of oak and hickory, a jag of pecan
if you get the notion for a change in flavor...

Of me meager bag of tales, ... As I help shoulder part of the blame; part remedy.
Hmmm maybe a little one...

In the late 1800's Colorado Gold Rush, in S/W Rocky Mountain area of
Ancient Anasazi fame,
high in around 10,000 to 12,000+ ft. jagged peaks area above we'll say,
coon creek to avoid offending the locals, there were several very rich
lode mines being well profitably worked, and the teamsters made their
trek up the narrow steep winding rocky mine trails to haul downhill for
refinement on much more level ground at the co-op smelter...

Toward the evening, the full and very heavily laden mule train of 25 mules,
had safely made their way down into the canyon and the captain happily
called the eager 17 man team to make camp for the night...

It had been steadily raining all day and the journey was very slow and treacherous,
even for the sure footed top notch mules and heavily armed professional drivers...
But the mines had necessity to be relieved, so was the nature of the beast.

Just as it looked like they may get some food, coffee and a little rest, there came up
a gusty wind, immediately followed by lightening and torrential rain pouring down on
the already saturated landscape... The team hunkered down and fatefully hoped for the best, but there was nowhere to go...

Early the next morning a search and rescue party was dispatched up the steep winding canyon to see if their fellow teamsters had weathered the storm alive...
Not a soul, not one body was ever found, only a few mules, their heavy loads torn
from their packs by the raging flood waters; straps and buckles ripped and broken, the contents of Gold rich ore gone, impossible to find as well as any sign of men among the
gradually receding raging water and disastrous landslides...
They had all been overtaken in the dark, unknowing till they heard the rushing waters...

In recent years it is said many nuggets the size of your thumb knuckles have been
pulled out of the creek, but the locals warn against being down their around dark,
as the cries of the brave tough hard working men that were washed away,
can still be heard in the night, even to this day... Fresh Irish sock coffee, yes thanks... :coffee:
 

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WELL, THERE HAVE BEEN MANY "SPIRITED" TALES TURNED HERE LATELY. NOT TO TURN A HOSE ON THEM, I'VE BEEN REMINDED OF THE TURN OF A BARREL, FROM MY YOUTH. SO I WILL SHARE IT WITH LONG DISTANCE CAMP FIRE FRIENDS.

I WILL PREFACE THIS WITH A SHORT HISTORY THAT LED UP TO THE DAY OF THE STORY.

MY FAMILY MOVED TO THE BACKWOODS OF CENTRAL ARKANSAS, BACK IN THE EARLY 1960s. WE WERE A FAMILY OF 8, 3 BOYS, 3 GIRLS, AND MOM AND DAD. WE HAD MOVED INTO AN AREA THAT WAS IN NEED OF A GOOD PLUMBER, AND THAT IS WHAT DAD WAS. THE TWIST TO THE SITUATION WAS THAT WE WERE FROM TEXAS. LOCAL FOLKS HAD A BUILT IN HATE FOR TEXANS, NO MATTER WHAT THE COST. DAD'S BUSINESS WAS RUNNIN' ON EMPTY MOST DAYS. THIS WAS NOT GOING TO STOP US FROM LIVING IN THE MIDST OF THOSE BEAUTIFUL WOODED MOUNTAINS. IT DID, HOWEVER PUT A KINK IN THE PLANS TO PROSPER. WE TOOK REFUGE IN AN OLD HOUSE THAT HAD NO PLUMBING, SO WE HAD TO HAUL WATER. ODD CIRCUMSTANCE FOR A PLUMBER.

DAD TOOK THE BULL BY THE HORNS AND STARTED MAKING THINGS MORE CIVILIZED. WE TURNED AN OLD SMOKE HOUSE INTO A BATH HOUSE, BY HANGING A 55 GALLON DRUM JUST UNDER THE OLD TIN ROOF, SO THAT THE WATER COULD BE PUMPED (BY HAND) FROM A BARREL IN THE TRUCK, UP INTO THE BARREL WITH A SHOWER HEAD ATTACHED, AND GIVEN ALL DAY TO WARM THE COLD SPRING WATER.

AS ANY HOUSE, WITH NO RUNNING WATER, THERE WAS NO BATHROOM AND THE OBVIOUS ANSWER WAS AN OUTHOUSE. THE OLD OUTHOUSE WAS NOT WORTH PATCHING, SO WE BUILT A NEW ONE AND SINCE WE WERE FAR FROM ANY ONE ELSE, WE POINTED IT AWAY FROM THE HOUSE AND WOULD WAIT TILL FALL TO BUILD THE FRONT WALL.

WE WERE MADE ACUTELY AWARE OF THE DRAWBACKS OF THE COUNTRY LIFE ONE SATURDAY MORNING WHEN WE COULD HEAR DAD YELLING FROM THE OUTHOUSE FOR MOM. SHE GRABBED A FEW ROLLS OF TOILET PAPER AND TROTTED DOWN THE PATH TO THE OUTHOUSE, THEN WE HEARD HER SCREAM AND WATCHED HER GET BACK ON HER FEET AND RUN BACK TO THE HOUSE ONLY TO RETURN AT FULL SPEED TO THE OUT HOUSE WITH A RIFFLE UNDER HER ARM. ALL SIX OF US KIDS WERE RIGHT BEHIND HER TO SEE WHAT ALL THE FUSS WAS ABOUT. MOM TRIED TO GIVE THE RIFFLE TO DAD BUT COULDN'T REACH HIM AND HE DIDN'T HAVE A CLEAR SHOT FROM THE CORNER OF THE SMALL STRUCTURE WHERE HE WAS TRAPPED BY A RATHER LARGE COPPERHEAD SNAKE THAT WAS HANGING FROM THE FRONT BEAM, TRYING TO STRIKE, BUT COULDN'T QUITE REACH HIM.

MOM HAD TO SHOOT THE SNAKE AND KILL IT IN ONE SHOT BECAUSE IT WOULD SURELY FALL IN DAD'S LAP. DAD HAD NO WAY OF PULLING HIS PANTS UP WITHOUT STICKING HIS HEAD INTO THE SNAKES MOUTH. MOM GOT AS CLOSE AS SHE COULD AND AS FAR AROUND THE CORNER AS SHE COULD SO SHE DIDN'T MISS THE SNAKE AND NOT HIT DAD. I SAW HER LIPS MOVE, NOT TREMBLE, BUT MORE LIKE SHE WAS PRAYING.SHE SLOWLY SQUEEZED THE TRIGGER UNTIL THE SHOT RANG OUT AND DAD ROLLED OUT AND DOWN THE HILL WHILE TRYING TO GET HIS PANTS UP. HE MADE IT UP THE HILL AND TOOK THE RIFFLE FROM MOM'S, NOW SHAKING, HANDS. HE LOOKED TO MAKE SURE THE SNAKE WAS DEAD. HE THEN GRABBED MOM UP IN A SWEEPING HUG.

WELL IT IS PROBABLY EASY TO GUESS WHAT HAPPENED NEXT. DAD MADE HIS WAY TO THE SHOWER HOUSE AND SUFFERED HIS WAY THRU A VERY COLD MORNING SHOWER.

THUS WAS THE LIFE OF 8 LOST TEXANS, LIVING IN THE BEAUTY OF THE ARKANSAS HILLS.

I NEVER DID FIGURE OUT WHY THEY HATED TEXANS SO MUCH.

IF YOU FOLKS ARE FROM TEXAS AND PASSING THRU.... DON'T TELL ANYONE.

MIKEL
#/;0)~
 

An old woman lived in a house close to us. She once told me that her sisters husband, which built the house and lived there until he died, buried enough money to put him and his wife away in style. We had become good friends with the old woman, and since she lived alone and didn't drive, and had no close family here, we took her to the doctor and grocery shopping. After she passed away they sold the house to her nephew and he now lives there. One day, after becoming aquainted with him, I told him the story. He became excited at the prospect of finding a treasure in his yard and asked if I would detect it for him for a share of the profit. Of course I said yes. I covered that yard with two different detectors I have and only found small change which had been dropped over the years. Some nice wheats and small silver. Not knowing what type of container he might have used has me rethinking how to find it, if it is still there. He passed away before he told anyone where it was, but still may have dug it up before then. My next step is to dowse it and see if I can determine if there is something there. Any other suggestions ? Good Luck. rockhound
 

Real De Tayopa Tropical Tramp typed:
Now if you were a native Californian ---!

...What, Don Jose ?

You can take the country Texans way on out into crowded California, then OK.
Just can't much welcome Texans, that go strait out to them Arkansas backwoods? :laughing9:

Or, maybe a true native Californian (is there still such a thing?) may have
a better tan and different wang in their accent, talking some faster, saltier BS,
more fantastic gold mining tales, bigger fish stories. Though I always heard them
Texans brag that everything is bigger in Texas, the biggest of the lower 48? Maybe
there's something to that, bigger hats, BBQ dillos, or something? Hmmm...
 

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OKAY, FOLKS. I WAS BORN IN TEXAS, APPARENTLY I WAS PICKED A LITTLE EARLY [ I HAVE NEVER BEEN TALL.] I'VE LOST A HALF INCH IN THE LAST FEW YEARS, SO I CAN'T SAY THAT EVERYTHING IS BIGGER IN TEXAS. I WAS JUST 5' 6" [THE TALLEST THAT I HAVE EVER BEEN,] WHEN (IN ARKANSAS) I MET MY CALIFORNIA GIRL. FELL IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT, THIS AUGUST WILL BE 39 YEARS.
THERE IS A PIPELINE THAT RUNS FROM NW ARKANSAS TO ORANGE COUNTY CAL, THAT FOLKS HAVE BEEN PASSING THRU FOR GENERATIONS. SHE AND I LIVED IN CAL FOR NINE MONTHS IN 1975, BEFORE RETURNING TO ARKANSAS. FOLKS FROM CALIFORNIA WOULD ASK ME WHAT IT WAS LIKE LIVING IN ARKANSAS. MY RESPONSE WAS "YOU WOULDN'T LIKE IT, DON'T COME." IF THEY WERE PERSISTENT ABOUT IT, I TOLD THEM THAT THEY WOULD HAVE TO LEARN TO DO THE PIG CALL. THEY WOULD ASK IF IT WAS THE UNIVERSITY OF ARKANSAS, RAZORBACK CALL. I WOULD TELL THEM "NO, IT'S THAT PIG CALL FROM THE MOVIE "DELIVERANCE"
THAT USUALLY STOPPED THEM IN THEIR TRACKS.
I HAVE GROWN TO LOVE THESE OLD HILLS. I DON'T PLAN ON RETURNING TO TEXAS OR CALIFORNIA.

COFFEE'S ON ME FOLKS.
:coffee2::coffee2::coffee2:

MIKEL
#/;0)~
 

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