I posted this on another forum but didn't seem to interest anyone except one guy, but being the rhachet jaw I am do feel compelled to relate some of my youthful history before I bite the bullet.
This is a story back around 1958, me and a close friend were stationed together at Alameda NAS in Kalifornia. We liked relic and gold prospecting even had a metal detector to locate the prescious metal.
Wound up in a Neveda ghost town called Aurora. Didn't even know this town existed but ran into a couple old desert rat prospectors stuck in a fast stream current creek. (Man and wife)
Pulled them out and they realized we were harmless and told us to follow them to Aurora.
Tom my partner and I, had been on the road for a couple of days and the temps were around 90 degrees and we were getting pretty rank...we needed baths.
On the way following the man and woman to the Aurora ghost town we stopped at a small stream about 3 or 4 feet wide in spots and about a six inches to a foot deep. It was a mineral hot springs water run-off.
The man and his wife said to stay on this road and it would take us right to the old ghost town. They left to go on ahead.
I decided I had to take a leak so went around the bushes and added to the hot mineral springs flow.
Came back around the bushes and there's my buddy setting down stream of me buck naked in the hot stream mineral water taking a bath with a bar of soap.
Golly, Tom! I didn't know you were gonna take a bath...just took a whiz upstream of you.
He threw the bar of soap at me.
That mineral spring water kind of smelled like rotten eggs anyway so don't know how good he thought he was going to smell like afterwards.
When we got to the Aurora ghost town they said the best place to camp is in the boothill cemetary. Yeah sure, but danged if we didn't spread out our sleeping bags between the ancient graves from the 1860s to 70s.
There was a national land mark that mentioned some short term President of the USA had died in this gold rush town and was temporarily burried there where we slept.
Next morning we looked the old bone yard over and even beeped a grave that gave out a really loud metal signal right in the middle of the occupants waist area. We looked at each other, could be a nice six shooter w/belt and holster down there...naw, we can't violate a bodys resting place.
So, decided to set up house keeping in the city hall which was a one story structure with no doors or windows, lots of fresh air. But it had two single beds with iron springs that were from the 1800s just waiting for us to use them that night. Tossed our bed rolls on them and begin firing up the coleman stove to make supper.
Nice cheery scene doing all this by coleman lanturn light when suddenly a RAT as big as a german shepard stood menicingly in the door way wondering what the **** we were doing there.
That night we slept in our 52 ford 4-door sedan, the rat could have the city hall. Its a wonder he didn't chew our tires off.
Next morning my pardner wakes me up by firing off my 1930s 357 Magnum just like Paton's (only a blue one) at a mountain lion on the side of the hill about 50 yards away...he missed. He did this from the front seat the noise was terrible...man that is a **** of a way to wake up.
Snooping around in dangerous mine shafts that go back in for miles and have bottomless pits in the cave floors, we found gold ore in some rock and clay we pryed off the walls. Couple of greenhors acquired 3 or 4 small bags of the stuff. We felt wonderful and rich.
Drove back over the Sierra Neveda Mts through Yolo pass and wound up in Yosemity Park and a first class camp ground.
By lantern light we was washing our sacks of gold and a guy over at the next camp site was watching us from about 30 yards away. He came over and friendly like introduced himself and his wife as being from Wisconsin. He was a dairy farmer.
Is that what I think it is he asked pointing at the rocks I was washing the mud and dirt off of.
We told him the story of being over in a Neveda ghost town and struck it rich. Man did he lite up like a christmas tree, he got really excited.
We really liked this gent and even gave him a piece of our booty. He was so ever grateful, said he was not going to sell it but would put it in a place of honor on his fireplace mantle.
A little later on we found out our riches was nothing but iron pyrite (fools gold) what a couple snooks we were...but we had a very memorable trip prospecting.
The sacks of ore wound up on the side of interstate 5 highway -- just waiting to be found by the next greenhorns that happened along.
Bigbore44