killian110
Jr. Member
I've been reading about the gold finds in and around California and the American River for years. Last week I finally got an opportunity to metal detect and do some panning near the Mineral Bar Campground area for an entire day. Being from western NC the sight of the huge boulders and the massive amounts of exposed bedrock along parts of the river was thrilling. Our bedrock is really deep and the likelihood of finding gold with a metal dector is not unheard of, but slim.
I expected that the area had already been hit pretty hard, but I got my Garret Infinium out anyway and walked the bedrock for a couple of hours or so, digging every hit. I dug nails, wire, a wheat penny, a few current pennies and dime. I was about to wrap things up and pull out my gold pan when I got one last hit. I was shocked when I pulled an 1862 British Half Cent out of a sand pocket in the bedrock.
While it wasn't the gold nugget I was hoping for it was an incredible find for me. It made me wonder about the person who possibly came to America from Great Britian in the later years of the gold rush era to make his fortune. As we all know, under most circumstances finding gold is not an easy task. In my mind, I imagine some fellow prospector on the edge of the river, hunched over his scarred metal pan, swirling the pebbles and blacks sands aside searching for gold. Under the heat of the sun, the sweat gathered at the brow of his old, worn miners hat trickles into his eyes, with one hand he absent-mindedly reaches into his pants pocket for a bandana to wipe his face. As the crumpled bandana unfolds from his pocket the half cent drops to the ground, undetected, as his focus on the potential for gold in the pan in his other hand has deafened and blinded him to all but the glitter of gold and the roar of the river.
I know that after all these years that half cent could have come from anywhere. But 100 plus years later, to stand on that riverback and have a connection and feeling of comradery with a complete stranger who as long since passed from this earth, it was my nugget. It was a priceless moment for me.
There is still no known cure for gold fever.
I expected that the area had already been hit pretty hard, but I got my Garret Infinium out anyway and walked the bedrock for a couple of hours or so, digging every hit. I dug nails, wire, a wheat penny, a few current pennies and dime. I was about to wrap things up and pull out my gold pan when I got one last hit. I was shocked when I pulled an 1862 British Half Cent out of a sand pocket in the bedrock.
While it wasn't the gold nugget I was hoping for it was an incredible find for me. It made me wonder about the person who possibly came to America from Great Britian in the later years of the gold rush era to make his fortune. As we all know, under most circumstances finding gold is not an easy task. In my mind, I imagine some fellow prospector on the edge of the river, hunched over his scarred metal pan, swirling the pebbles and blacks sands aside searching for gold. Under the heat of the sun, the sweat gathered at the brow of his old, worn miners hat trickles into his eyes, with one hand he absent-mindedly reaches into his pants pocket for a bandana to wipe his face. As the crumpled bandana unfolds from his pocket the half cent drops to the ground, undetected, as his focus on the potential for gold in the pan in his other hand has deafened and blinded him to all but the glitter of gold and the roar of the river.
I know that after all these years that half cent could have come from anywhere. But 100 plus years later, to stand on that riverback and have a connection and feeling of comradery with a complete stranger who as long since passed from this earth, it was my nugget. It was a priceless moment for me.
There is still no known cure for gold fever.
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