The temptation to enter the dark interiors beckoned to me before the day was finished but I resisted.

I have a slight mental disorder. It causes frequent lapses in common sense, good judgment and bouts of high fever—gold fever.

Midway into my first tank of gas I was beginning to see color in my sluicebox. Needless to say, I was excited.

My right rib cage took the brunt of the blow from the fall, which left me feeling partially paralyzed and in immense pain.

The dredge and our gear, with us clinging on to the sides, bounced along until it got hung up on a large boulder in the middle of the river.

What are they? They are too hard to be lead, and are not tarnished like silver should be.

…being sneaky, I filled in the hole, and buried therein some trash items that I had previously found, just to discourage any other detectorist that might come along.