Panning for gold, glory and an early retirement!

So, after the excitement of being held up at gunpoint by our Chap with Chaps had passed,  it was time for the final fun of the day - panning for gold!!  I'd decided to go for the Ruby Plus package which entitled me to "enriched" sands PLUS a personal tutor to teach me the basics.  Untold wealth was just a short pan-ride away!

The set-up was pretty straightforward - there were a series of interconnected troughs, full of yellowish brown dirty water where everyone was gathered, and where I found my teacher (the lady in the shop described him as the "dude with the shiny head" - who was helpfully wearing a hat).  There were a few more folk here (obviously the lure of gold is stronger than the fear of fire), so it was a bit busier but again, I didn't have to wait for my teacher, so I introduced myself and we got stuck in.

Essentially gold panning is dead easy to do - the main elements involved are shaking, rinsing, a ridged pan and a ton of patience.  And a steady supply of ibuprofen for when your back starts aching after about 5 minutes.  Here's a brilliant description of the technique (much better at my paltry attempts at explaining) - and you, of course, will now understand what the title of this website means when you click into it!  http://www.goldgold.com/gold-prospectinggold-panning-instructions.html

So, how did I do?  

Can I retire early and open that Siamese cattery I've always dreamed of?

Here we go.....

Turning cash into GOLD!
(and....umm....less cash)

A gentleman's handshake to agree the mining rights of this claim

Not altogether convinced I didn't get
 sold a bag of dirt

Look, ma!!  I'm panning for gold!!!

Although its bloody hard work and
makes your back ache

Getting intense as I'm getting closer to paydirt
 (hmm...i wonder if this is where that expression comes from?)

The treasures starting to be revealed.....

WHOOO-HOOOO!!!  GOLD!!!!  

Little garnets shimmering in the sunshine and if you look very
 very carefully, you can see three flakes of  gold on the right
hand side, on the bottom of the pan, just under where the ridge starts

I'm not sure you are supposed to be able to fit your entire
pension plan on the tip of your finger

There it is .... don't sneeze

Safely transferred to the tube of water for storage

Was that IT???  Realization dawning that early retirement
was, alas, not an option....

"Rivers" of gold

So there you have it.  Alas, come Tuesday, I will still be working for The Man, as the three flecks of gold I collected will not really cover my monthly mortgage payments for the next 20 years.  I guess I learnt that probably the only way I could make money out of gold prospecting these days is to set up a couple of water troughs in my back yard and sell bags of dirt to tourists

But wait!  The fun of the day wasn't over yet!!  Oh no.... there was still more to come.  

As we drove home from Columbia, back towards our campsite (passing through the delightful little town of Sutter Creek along the way), we suddenly noticed police lights behind us.  Wondering where the accident was  up in-front of us that the cruiser was obviously on its way to, we then made the interesting observation that he didn't seem in a hurry to get past us.  We then made the even more interesting observation that he was actually pulling US over!!  WTF??

Completely baffled as to what I'd done wrong, I dutifully pulled over, heart pounding.  I knew the score.   I'd seen it enough times in movies.  I'd roll my window down then get arrested for resisting an officer by not having wound my window down fast enough then I'd get taken to the station where I'd get thrown in jail on jumped-up charges then I'd disappear into the system and never be seen again.

Or not.  

I had, I learnt, "failed to maintain my lane" - ie when turning at an intersection, i had taken up BOTH lanes on my side of the road by failing to stay in one or the other (shock horror) and then had crossed a solid line when I'd had to overtake someone who'd braked ahead of me without a lot of warning.   Really?  That was worth pulling me over for? 

As it turns out, the cop was very nice as he could have given me a very hard time for a couple (well, four, to be precise) reasons.  On asking me for my drivers license and insurance, I found my license and handed it to him - wincing to myself as its still my NY State license, not the Californian one ("is this car a rental, ma'am?"  "umm..no").  Strike one.  Strike two was pulling out my AllState insurance card from my wallet - then then discover that instead of it being the insurance card with my details on, I had inadvertently got TWO of the little cards that tell you about their breakdown recovery service.  Fine for flats and running out of gas, not so great for proving you have auto insurance to the rozzers.  And strike THREE was that my little tax sticker on the rear number plate was out of date - whereby I sheepishly pulled out the 2013 tax sticker from my glovebox that I just hadn't quite got round to fixing onto the licence plate yet. That was fine - until he noticed that was out of date too!!! WTF??  Now that wasn't my fault - i get sent these by the DMV, so he told me that I should give them a call and follow up to find out where it was.  

So, yes, he could have given me a much harder time than he did, but he just advised me to be more careful and watch my lanes in future.   I promised him I absolutely would watch those buggers like a hawk from now on.  He then said that he just needed to run my license to check I wasn't a serial killer.   Well, I thought to myself, I know I don't have make-up on but that's a little harsh.     

With that formality complete, he handed me back my license and I was on my way.

So, Mum, before you give me a hard time, I will be doing the following, pronto:

Get my California State driving license, stat

Phone the DMV for my new tax info

Find my insurance documents and put them in the car

And watch my lanes!!

Gold Country Bonanza Day 2:  Going Old School in Columbia....
Managed to survive the night not being eaten by bears or burnt to a crisp, so the day started well.  I'd discovered that my blow-up mattress had a bit of a slow-leak, so it was rather entertaining trying to haul myself out of it first thing in the morning (I don't care how fit and spry you are - you try getting up out of a half-inflated mattress without looking like a beached whale).  I don't think i'd helped my case by having had my mattress on a slope, with my head at the downward end, legs pointing uphill (steady) rather than sleeping with my head at the top with legs working in harmony with gravity.  Sigh.

oh YEAH......

Aside from an ignominious start, life was still good and it was time to fire up the Whisperlite stove and get cracking with breakfast.  I'd gone old-style and packed some bangers and beans for breakfast, so was looking forward to that first cup of tea, followed by some strong coffee and tomatoey-beany goodness.  Alas, it was not to be.  For the first time EVAH my bloody Whisperlite stove completely failed to co-operate.  I couldn't get the bloody thing to light.  At first I thought it was because I hadn't filled the gas bottle up enough with fuel when we'd stopped for gas, so Lori helpfully volunteered to go to the petrol station to get more.  Coming back with a completely full bottle, I tried again - connecting the burner to the bottle, priming the pump and turning it on v....e.....r.....y   c...a....r....e....f...u..l...l...y but all i got was a lot of yellow flames, soot and bugger all else.  I'm always crapping my pants whenever I use my Whisperlite as they are a bit scary to use - you have to get the flow of pressurized fuel coming out of the bottom and soaking the wick juuuuuuust right so that there's enough gas for it to catch and generate the blue flames that you want - but not too much that it "whooooomps" out and sets your eyebrows on fire.  I have always used fuel from the gas pumps with no problem before, so I don't know if it was a different kind of fuel or if something was blocked but anyway, nada.  Nothing but very sooty fingers and a woeful lack of hot caffeinated products to show for my efforts.

I can almost feel those gold nuggets... (steady)

So breakfast was a bit of a wash-out but fortunately our good friend, Walmart, had a store in nearby Jackson, so we'd stop there on our way to Columbia and rectify the situation (justified camping gadget shopping - yey!!).  Fortunately i'd also packed some cereal so breakfast was fine, if rather dull and functional, rather than excitingly campfire-y and outdoorsy.

Anyway, the plan for the day was to head back towards Murphy, cross into Tuolumne County and visit the town of Columbia, a preserved old Wild West-style town where you could relive some of that old gold rush experience! (Loopy - think Flambards with stetsons and spurs).   The highlight of the day was to indulge in a little light panhandling but - more on that later....

The drive over took about an hour again and, as we drove out towards Columbia, the smoke and the haze from the Rim Fire became very very obvious.  We could see thick bands of it, rolling down towards us, and we could definitely smell it in the air.  En route, we stopped at a scenic lookout over a lake and the horizon was completely cloaked in white smoke.  Talking to one of the locals later on in the day, they explained that the smoke was worst first thing in the morning but, as the winds changed direction later in the day, it completely cleared up.  It was a real shame - not just for the devastation its causing to the forest up in Yosemite, but also the impact its having in places like Pine Grove and Columbia.  Here we were again, on the last major holiday weekend of the year, at a very touristy place - and it was almost deserted.   A few more folk turned by the time we left but there was hardly anyone there - having grown up in the tourism business, you just knew how much everyone must have been hurting economically.  It was very sad.  Here's the link to the town, just in case you ever are passing and feel an urge to visit... http://www.visitcolumbiacalifornia.com

Checking in on the mortgage.
Yep.  Still there.

Anyway, good for those of us who obviously didn't watch enough of the local news as we didn't have to wait for anything again - we arrived just after midday, so first sat and ate lunch, before wandering through the town, taking in the sights.  Its an interesting place - although it is, of course, very touristy, it doesn't take that much imagination to picture it back in the mid 1800's when it was at the height of its Gold Rush boom.  It wasn't all that big, so it didn't take too long to wander round - the town does still house some private residences too, so its not all just for show.  The hotel is also a working property and you can stay there - we just contented ourselves with having a wander round again, exploring the authentically floral and dark parlor lounge upstairs.  It was roastingly hot outside, so we also availed ourselves of one of the saloons for an icy-cold glass of rose, served to us by a very grumpy saloon gal.  I guess some things never change.  We also visited the schoolhouse, the blacksmiths and took a ride on an old stagecoach, drawn by 4 magnificent horses.  We - of course - rode shotgun, up in front with the driver (a lovely chap who owned the horses and worked the concession, 7 days a week from Memorial day to Labor day) which was a lot of fun.  Albeit short.  The ride lasted just over ten minutes, during which we got held up by a highway robber!  EEK!  (he actually made me jump, the little sod!).   Anyway, here are some of the pics from our visit - the highlight was, of course, my bid for gilded glory.... that's coming next, so stay tuned.....

It was, indeed, a fine establishment, complete with authentically
moody cowboy sitting out front, just starin' into the distance

I'm sensing a pattern in the decor here...  Stopping for an
 icy-cold adult beverage in the Douglass Saloon

Git yer 'orseshoes 'ere!

Sounds like a sailor I once dated.

SEE?!!!  Wagonwheels really HAVE
got smaller since we were kids!!

A rather fine carriage.

A dusty version.

All I could think of when I saw this were those
 scenes from Scrooge - The Musical ("thank ya very much!"

"my...what a fine hat, sir"
 "thank you, good lady but - pray - why are you carrying
a blanket in 96 degree weather?"

Papeete fleet

Jail rails.

Historical stuff for you history nerds

Brings back fond memories of school days....

Crackly lock and old knob.

Brilliant.  I need one of these for work.

Teacher's desk.  Not a piece of fruit-inspired technology in sight...

Schoolhouse and outhouse

Damned right.

Though Thomas might say there is no
 difference between the two...

A perfect place to sit and watch the world go by...

Spectacular wallpaper in the upstairs parlor of the historic hotel.
I kinda like it.  Reminds me of Kings Acre somehow.

And tarts with hearts

Deja vu!!  

Chucks away!!

Do you take credit cards?

Riding shotgun!

I think the "O" must have fallen off the sign
 (site of the first recorded Italian coffee bar in the US)

There's Gold in Them Thar Hills!!  In Search of Treasure in Old Gold Country.....

Yey!  Its Labor Day weekend, I have a summer Friday and Monday off, so its high time I got back to doing what I do best - exploring and having new adventures!   Lori and I decided on the spur of the moment the previous weekend that we hadn't done enough (i.e. any) camping this summer, so she suggested visiting a town called Murphys, slap-bang in the middle of old gold rush country!

I'd heard a little about the Gold Rush during other touristy trips - when Dad and I took the boat cruise from the Golden Gate Bridge to the Bay Bridge (I know, I know - I'm very behind on all my blogs, but i'll catch you all up, don't worry!), part of the narration was about how the prospectors would come to SF from far and wide, dock at the harbor and then just abandon whatever boats they arrived in in their haste to get up to Amadour County to search for nuggets!   The Californian Gold Rush officially began in 1849, with the first discovery of gold at Sutter's Mill - hundreds of thousands of people then flocked to the area hoping to pan and mine their way to glory.  This first wave of miners and prospectors were called the "49'ers" - which I guess explains the name of SF's football team!  At first the gold nuggets could simply be picked off the ground (how cool would that be?!), but then as time went on, all the surface gold was collected and it got progressively harder and harder to extract.   By about 1852, the gold rush was pretty much over - but Northern California had been indelibly shaped by the economic and demographic changes it had brought.  If you want more details on the Gold Rush, here's a link to the Wikipedia entry - its all fascinating stuff.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/California_Gold_Rush

Where IS everyone?  

We'd made reservations at this campsite called Gold Country Campground and Resort - we were really surprised that we were able to find somewhere with space just one week ahead of the Labor Day holiday - until we got there and discovered that the whole region was like a gold rush-era Ghost Town because everyone was terrified of the Rim Fire and was staying away.   Wildfires are nothing new and are just part of the natural cycle of birth, death and re-birth in the forest.  However, this wildfire has the terrible distinction of being the fourth largest in modern Californian history, having now burnt an area of 225,000 acres (7.5x the size of San Francisco) in and around Yosemite National Park.  After two weeks, the fire is still only 45% contained and ancient groves of redwood forest are still being threatened.  http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/09/01/20280685-rim-fire-at-225000-acres-as-calif-officials-search-for-cause-of-massive-blaze?lite   The main area of the fire is a good two hours drive north of where our campsite is, so we were in no danger at all - but it was clear that all the reporting of the fire had taken its toll, as our campsite was almost deserted when we arrived on Friday afternoon.

Not that we minded, of course.  Holiday weekends at campsites are usually like one big enormous rowdy creche, with packs of small children roving around unsupervised, yelling their heads off and screaming (this is why you should ALWAYS pack ear-plugs on a camping trip), so to not have to grumpily endure that was a bonus!

The bar at Murphys Historic Hotel

Anyway, the drive from SF took longer than usual as we had to detour via the San Mateo bridge (further south) as the Bay Bridge was closed.  They are on the verge of opening up the new bit of bridge that's been built to be earthquake-compliant, replacing the current non-compliant bridge that spans from Treasure Island to the East Bay.  It will re-open on Tuesday at 5am, so i might just have to take a tootle across and see what it looks like.   Its supposed to be beautiful - as it should be, given the billions and billions of dollars its cost to build!   We set off around 11am and, given check-in at the campsite wasn't until 1pm, decided to first visit the town of Murphys for lunch.

We radically underestimated how long the drive would take - even though we only stopped briefly for gas once, we didn't reach Murphys until almost 3pm!!  I think it was because the roads were rather twisty and steep, so it was slow-going through the gold-filled mountains - with the 30mile route between Pine Grove (where our campsite was) and Murphys taking about an hour.  By the time we finally arrived, we were starving and busting for a pee, so we parked up double quick and hustled our way to the Murphys Historic Hotel where we'd decided to have lunch.

It was worth the wait.  The bar was charmingly ancient and full of interesting characters, including our barman who was probably no older than 21, but was extremely confident, bordering on cocky that we both appreciated and got annoyed by in equal measure ("gosh, such self-assuredness in one so young" and "he told us we didn't need bread, the arrogant git - can you believe that?").  But the food was good and very welcome, so all was forgiven.  The hotel has been there for aeons and is supposedly haunted but, alas, we didn't see anything untoward (other than a very scary leopard-print chiffon shirt one of the cougars at the bar was wearing), so no paranormal activities to report, I'm afraid!

Camping!!  Gadgets!  Tents!!  No kids!

After our late lunch, we poked around the hotel for a bit before waddling out and heading back on the road, towards our campsite.  As long as we arrived by 6pm, we'd be fine to make camp before it got dark, so we had plenty of time, stopping to buy the camping essentials of wood, starter logs, matches and ice along the way.  Obviously they don't get many Brits Round These Parts as the lady in the gas station store had no idea what I was talking about when I asked her if they sold firewood and matches - I repeated myself a couple of times to increasingly puzzled looks ("MATCHES", "WOOD") before her mate stepped in to translate into a suitable American accent.  Fortunately, I'd packed enough supplies for the whole weekend, so a big food shop wasn't needed else we might have been there some time (yey for car camping!).

The DEET inventory looking healthy
 - illuminated by one very foxy looking lamp.

It didn't take very long at all to set up camp, although my spare MSR tent (the little yellow one) that Lori was borrowing was an absolute be-yatch to set up!  I don't remember it being that tough last time!  I'm still in love with my Colemans tent - its so easy to put up, there's plenty of space for a blow up double mattress inside and it has lots of cool zippy pockets inside to store things in and then forget where you put them.  Bonza.  I also was geeking out on my new LED lantern (a Costco gift certificate purchase) which has FOUR DETACHABLE LAMPS!!  A table lamp with built-in little mobile lights for those scary darkness trips to the loo - brilliant.  I had a fab time pootling about, setting up the camp kitchen - both of us were still so full from lunch, there wasn't any desire to do any cooking, so we were content with a couple of sandwiches washed down with a bottle of icy-cold cider.  All terribly Famous Five.  As night fell, we got the campfire cranking, so it was a very chilled out way to end the day - sitting out by the campfire, listening to the crackle of the flames as you looked up at the stars.  Bloody perfect.  This is why I live in California...