gold tramp
Bronze Member
- Dec 30, 2012
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Its the 7th of Dec again my ole mining buddy Mitchels birthday, he passed over the divide been about 10 years back I think, anyways we have a tradition in hardrock minin to honor our dead minin buddy's, keeping with the tradition went out today an mucked out about 2/3rds of a ton of caved fill from an old timer dig, it was on a vein that pinched out on the old guy 1800s miner..
Well I mucked her out and followed the pinch that ended up swelling to about 6 inches by four foot before peterin out into some crappy minerlizations with no gold.
The ore I did manage to get was showing values in the pan with an occasional speck I could see with my miners lens in the rock.
Managed about 400 lbs of purple vuggy ore before I was exhausted from the muckin and throwing around my 35lber electric jack hammer..
Would of made Mitch proud.
He was a Navy seal in vietnam and was wounded, came back home to be a beat cop in Philadelphia, even though he was a cop he didn't really care for guns or to tote them.
One time we had some high graders out at the mine he got tired of it so he asked if I could ride shotgun, I agreed only I didn't get a shot gun he gave me a pick ax handle, grabbed one for his self off we went, longest 18 miles of my life. Whole ride out I was prayin I didn't have to use that handle on someone, the Mitch had a taste for the Canadian mist and had a quart with him every couple miles he'd take a healthy chug off that bottle then pass it to me.
I hit it purty good hoping it would give me some courage, as I was scared out of my mind we we're gonna have to beat on some high graders with wooden tools. Closer we got the more buzzed we we're getting, Mitch's voice was kinda gravely as one of his wound from nam was to his throat. He kept cussing I hope we catch those guys.
Mitch liked to get in an occasional scuff had no problems with the fight he was a big tough ole guy, me I don't like the tussle but if I have to I will.
Anyways we get to the mine he hauls butt up the only road into the mine chugging the last of that bottle, we get to the hole and thank God the only thing there was a pile of ore n the screw driver they were using to dig out the gold. Guess they had a lookout or were hiding in a nearby wash we found nobody, I was happy for that didn't have to use the pick handle
Mitch probably would of just used his bare hands like I said he liked the fight, so we bleeped the area they were digging picked up some crumbs, observed foot prints, took the screw driver and made the dry drive back to the shop .
Never did catch those Yahoo's and from that day on Mitchel and I were best of friends.
We drank much whiskey together...
Hope you all like my story of Mitchel n the pick ax handles
Gt......
Well I mucked her out and followed the pinch that ended up swelling to about 6 inches by four foot before peterin out into some crappy minerlizations with no gold.
The ore I did manage to get was showing values in the pan with an occasional speck I could see with my miners lens in the rock.
Managed about 400 lbs of purple vuggy ore before I was exhausted from the muckin and throwing around my 35lber electric jack hammer..
Would of made Mitch proud.
He was a Navy seal in vietnam and was wounded, came back home to be a beat cop in Philadelphia, even though he was a cop he didn't really care for guns or to tote them.
One time we had some high graders out at the mine he got tired of it so he asked if I could ride shotgun, I agreed only I didn't get a shot gun he gave me a pick ax handle, grabbed one for his self off we went, longest 18 miles of my life. Whole ride out I was prayin I didn't have to use that handle on someone, the Mitch had a taste for the Canadian mist and had a quart with him every couple miles he'd take a healthy chug off that bottle then pass it to me.
I hit it purty good hoping it would give me some courage, as I was scared out of my mind we we're gonna have to beat on some high graders with wooden tools. Closer we got the more buzzed we we're getting, Mitch's voice was kinda gravely as one of his wound from nam was to his throat. He kept cussing I hope we catch those guys.
Mitch liked to get in an occasional scuff had no problems with the fight he was a big tough ole guy, me I don't like the tussle but if I have to I will.
Anyways we get to the mine he hauls butt up the only road into the mine chugging the last of that bottle, we get to the hole and thank God the only thing there was a pile of ore n the screw driver they were using to dig out the gold. Guess they had a lookout or were hiding in a nearby wash we found nobody, I was happy for that didn't have to use the pick handle
Mitch probably would of just used his bare hands like I said he liked the fight, so we bleeped the area they were digging picked up some crumbs, observed foot prints, took the screw driver and made the dry drive back to the shop .
Never did catch those Yahoo's and from that day on Mitchel and I were best of friends.
We drank much whiskey together...
Hope you all like my story of Mitchel n the pick ax handles
Gt......
