GhostMiner

Many, many thanks. Going to do some riding this Summer. Bought a Royal Enfield 500 Trials Works bike. One of 50 imported to the USA before dropping the 500 single Bullet line forever. Kind of like me - a relic.

I also am looking for a picture of Jacob with his Thompson. It was taken on the mine in Summer 2002. Looking high & low for it. He let me shoot it a few times.

As a matter of fact, I remember his favorite card game was called Spades.

I don't describe any of the people in the journal as far as looks. At least not usually. I'd rather let the reader use his imagination as to what the characters look like. To me it's like when you have listened to a DJ on the radio for yrs not knowing what he or she look like. Your brain makes up a vision or interpretation from the voice you have listened to for so long. Then usually, when you actually see this person, you are like "NO - THAT"S NOT WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE." So I don't know what the readers thought about Jacob but there he is in all his glory. So what was he like? He was a pretty tough cookie. He didn't put up with BS & if you were going to be his friend you had better be ready to buck up when the time came for action. He loved playing cards and his occasional cup of whisky. If he was your friend you knew you had someone you could count on in any circumstance. He liked to swear & didn't care who heard it. Down to earth & hard working. He told me some of his lady friends thought he resembled the actor Clark Gable. RIP Jacob. We miss you. I know you'd be getting a big kick out of the journal.

Some of you have wanted to see a picture of Jacob. Yes, he was real. This was taken in 1999 & he was 81. This was taken in his cabin & he was with a friend playing cards. Sorry I can't get the picture to post correctly.

All is fine. Just taking a break.

Or maybe just 10 people LOL. Just taking a break.

All I did was make a statement about a TV show. I never mentioned names.

**

Yes, I need to stick to what I do here & stay away from the other stuff. The only reason I chimed in was because I had been contacted by that shows producers multiple times & passed. But we already put all that out in the air & I've moved on. As far as the journal goes i'm not sure yet. Might just put it out on Youtube or something like that. Or maybe continue here again when ready. Need a break. Thanks for reading & supporting.

Be careful with that kind of talk here Reg.

Thank you Steve for allowing me to post my drivel LOL. Writing has to come from somewhere deep inside oneself just like music of which I also do. Today, whatever drove me to write & post the journal vanished. Perhaps it was the argument with Steve & knowing what he really thought of me & my writings. Or perhaps it was something else. All I know is it may take some time for me to get back into it & finish the season of 2002. The journal is very personal to me. Some is fiction & some is true. All of it is based on true events. Some of the characters are real with names changed. Others are fictional as you readers know. I hope I can get back to posting here in time. Until then, God bless and so many thanks to everyone who followed my writings. Cheers, GM.

More to come I think but we will see. Thank you to all the readers just in case.

Technicly. Warner Bros owns Discovery although Disney has 9 big production studios at Warner Bros. Any way you look at it the so called "reality shows" are fake.

I actually have no respect for any of the fake gold shows Discovery puts out. It gives real mining a bad name. None of these people would be able to get funding to mine with real investors. And they sure aren't using their own money. We'll see how long these last now that Disney bought them out & are bleeding money.

June 20 2002 The heat was back again today. Jacob cleaned up the concentrates from yesterday’s run of 32 yards and there were 2.4 ounces weighed up. Jim was able to take a full day of watch duty while Vern, Jacob, and I did the shoveling chores. Jacob noticed a slight change in the color of the gravel in the deep pit we had been working. The material seemed to change from a gray/red to more of a bluish tint. Vern pulled up a fresh bucket of this gravel with the excavator and Jacob took samples over to the wash tub to test it. He came back over to the tom after taking numerous pans and showed us the results. The pan was absolutely brimming with coarse gold and pickers. He had done a rough calculation of its value based on what he had panned and told us there were over four grams to the yard. High grade he called it. I radioed Jim to give him the good news. We were in a rich spot. By dusk we had processed 36 yards of pay dirt. Maybe we would see glory days at last. TO BE CONTINUED .................

Man, that's a whole bunch of journal entries to read in a few days. It's also listed under how to drink, fight, cuss, & shoot guns LOL. Thanks for reading the journal.

June 19 2002 Jim is feeling a bit better this morning and has decided to take watch duty on the mountain. He is far from being mobile however and we had to assist him all the way up to the watchpost. He will not be able to patrol the water line either. At noon we broke for lunch and took the gold weigh up to Jim to cheer him up. There were 3.8 ounces. We all ate lunch with Jim and decided to bring him back to camp and Jacob took over the watch. He makes me nervous with that Thompson and has an itchy trigger finger as well. We got some relief from the heat today and actually had some rain. There were no problems with hooligans as Jacob calls them and we put in a good day's work and sent 32 yards of pay gravel through the tom. Jacob was helping us shovel from time to time as well as testing the gravels we were working. He told us we were still on good ground. We are all hoping this rich material holds up for when we get out trommel up and running again. TO BE CONTINUED ..................

California is using the suction dredege law to limit regular mining within 300 ft of a creek. It is not correct but they are doing it anyway.

Not sure about the pump being 300 ft from the stream for non bank or non streambed material because we got a water license to use a pump at the creeks as long as the water was being pumped to an area more than 300 ft from the stream. Seems to all be case specific now which makes no sense.

No use of any mechanized equipment within 300 ft of stream. You are fine.

June 18 2002 Jacob had the cleanup done early and there were 1.4 ounces in the jar. Then he went up to the pump to act as watchman while Vern came down to the tom and helped me feed the beast. Even with the extreme heat we made good progress and by day’s end we had managed to process just over 28 yards. I was beginning to adjust to the heat and hand shoveling. Vern said he actually enjoyed the heavy labor but he is also half my age. I cleaned up down at the creek and the cool water felt good. The cold beer tasted good as well. There is no word on when we will be up and running with the trommel so we will be doing hand labor for the time being. TO BE CONTINUED ..............

Kind of nice to reflect back to what got us here.

The night the crew met Slim Saunders. April 18 1937 Part One We are continuing to get wild hooligans from town who want to come out here to the mine and either meet us or work with us. Last night I heard Ben and Sarge holler out at someone who was trudging up the side of the creek toward our camp. The crew came over and had a look at what the hollering was about. I nearly laughed but held it back. Sarge was not so kind and began to laugh and hoot. There in front of us stood an old guy dressed like a cowboy from back in the 1800’s. He wore a large cowboy hat that nearly covered his face and also some old jeans and fur leggings. He had on boots with spurs as well as two six shooters in holsters. He was smoking a home rolled cigarette and gave us all an evil stare. I walked over to him and asked what he was up to. He said his name was Slim Saunders and he was from a ranch just outside of town. I reckoned him to be about 60 in years or maybe a bit more. He told us he had done everything from ranching to mining to logging and even bounty hunting in his day. I started to like him. John asked him what we could do for him. He said he had heard quite a bit about us in town. Some of the groups that hung around in the tavern said we were the mining crew from hell and we took names and kicked ass. He said he was looking for work and wanted to join up with us. I asked him what kind of job he was looking for. He said he was a scratch shot with his 45’s and could work as security. He said he could also handle a rifle with the best of them. Before I could say anything he pointed to a limb on a pine tree about 100 feet away. He said to look toward the end of the limb and there was a small branch starting off to the right with a pine cone hanging on. I said that I saw it. He slapped leather with both hands and quick drew his Colts and fired off a round from each gun. The pine cone flew off the limb. Then he twirled the pistols and put them back in their holsters as slick as grease. Then he told Will to set out two empty tin cans about 100 feet away. Will set them up on a rock and came back over. Slim said to watch and he pulled his right hand quickly and shot as the gun cleared leather. One of the cans flew off the rock. Before the sound of the shot died he pulled his left hand with the Colt and did the same thing. The can flew off the rock just like the first one. He twirled them back into the holster as slick as could be. I asked him what kind of pay he wanted. He said just his grub and whiskey, a dollar, and a little taste of gold from time to time. I told him to hold on while I talked with my crew. Everyone liked Slim. We decided to give him a go. I went over and asked him when he wanted to start. He just looked at me and said “Well, I’m here aint I ?” and that was that. Then he asked if we had any whiskey. I handed him a new bottle and we all sat around the fire as darkness fell. Slim took a couple of pulls from the bottle and began to tell us his story. April 18 1937 Part Two Slim told us his father had worked in a wild west show back in the day. He did all kinds of tricks with guns and ropes. His father had begun teaching him these skills from even before he could remember. His father traveled all the time and when Slim was sixteen he and his mother and sister never saw him again. He just left on a show tour one day and never came home. He had no idea what happened to him. Slim kept practicing his father’s trade until he figured he was better than him or anyone else around. However, by this time the wild west shows were all dried up like the dust in the western wind. There was no market for his trade. Slim developed a real bad attitude and began to pull strong arm robberies when he was still a kid. He used his gun skills to intimidate people all the time. Not surprising, the law eventually caught up with him when he was nineteen years old and he spent two years in the Wyoming state prison. When he got out his mother and sister had moved on and abandoned him. He never saw either of them again. Prison hadn’t helped his attitude but it hardened him as a man. He had been in many fistfights and brawls while in lockup and had developed some good hand to hand fighting skills to go along with his gunplay. He was a truly dangerous individual and didn’t think twice about using his guns or fists at the drop of a hat. By now Slim had downed a third of his bottle. Then he told us a wild story. We all leaned in to listen closely. April 18 1937 Part Three Slim said that back when he was just out of prison he got a job working on a ranch. He didn’t have a whole lot of cowboy skills when they hired him but learned real fast and was soon one of the best cowboys on the ranch. He was in a poker game one night. It took place in the main bunkhouse and Slim was losing real bad. The cowboy who had all the money was the best bronc buster on the ranch. Or so he thought. Slim challenged him to a bronc busting contest. Slim put up one of his Colts against the money in the purse. The other cowboys got the meanest horse out of the barn. They called him Freight Train. He was bad to the bone. The first cowboy took a turn on him and got thrown after just a few seconds. Slim got on and rode out the horse and broke him. The cowboy who lost refused to give up the purse. One of the other guys was holding Slims Colt & gave it back to him. The losing cowboy challenged Slim to a duel. Slim said this guy thought he was pretty quick on the draw. They walked out fifty paces and stood looking at each other. Slim told him to make his move when he was ready. After a wait of about thirty seconds the cowboy slapped leather. Slim came up with both guns firing just as they cleared their holsters and the slower guy went down on his knees firing off a round into the dirt. Then he slowly rolled over on his side. He was dead. Both of Slims shots had pierced the chest in the area of the heart. Slim calmly walked over and took the money out of the cowboy’s vest pocket. It was covered in blood. The ranch owner had heard the ruckus and came out of his house with his rifle. It was way past midnight. When he saw one of his top hands laying dead on the ground he wasn’t happy. He pointed the rifle at Slim and told him he was going to shoot him dead. April 18 1937 Part Four Slim said when a man told him he was going to kill him he took him at his word. So he raised his right hand as if to give up but as he did so snapped the six shooter out of its holster with his left hand and fired three times. The rancher dropped to the ground lifeless. Just that quick he had taken two lives but felt he had no choice. The cowboys were real upset now because their boss and one of their friends were eating dirt. Slim said there were five of them left and some had sidearms. He told them not to make any moves and walked backwards towards the barn. He saddled a horse and rode off into the night leaving what few belongings he had. However, he did have a full poke now. Within the space of a few minutes he had become an outlaw. Then he told us the rest of the story. April 18 1937 Part Five Slim said he lasted until the law dogs caught up with him in Cody, Wyoming. He said there were two of them and he could have easily gunned them down but didn’t want to kill any more men. He got thirty years and got out when he was 51 years old. More than half his life had now been spent in prison and he had no one to call a friend. He was on his own in a strange world. He was forbidden to own or carry a gun and had no training except in gun play and cow punching and bronc busting. He thought about the rodeo circuit but everyone told him he was too old. He decided to give it a try anyway. He got on with the Cowboy Contest circuit in Cheyenne and found out he could still hold his own in the bronc riding division. He made himself a living for nearly ten years and was the oldest cowboy to qualify for a trophy and prize money. Then he eventually hooked up with a ranch in the area and now he was sitting at our campfire drinking whisky with us. We all pulled out some cups as he talked about his life and drank whiskey with him deep into the night. Around two in the morning we all turned in. When we got up none of us were feeling too good and took the day off nursing bad hangovers. There was no gold made that day.

Here is one example of why you wouldn't want to mess with John. April 15 1937 Last night we had a visit by four hooligans. It seems they had liquored themselves up with false courage at the tavern and came out to the mine for a visit just before dark. Sarge and Ben had stopped them before they made it all the way into camp and the crew went down to see what was going on. They were running their mouths and talking about how they were ruff and ready guys and thought they would be a good fit as a part of our crew. They said they could handle themselves in a fight and were hard workers to boot. John was getting a laugh out of all this and asked them who the toughest one in the bunch was. They immediately pointed to the biggest one who was probably in his late twenties. He said he would take on any one of us in a brawl and prove he could handle himself. John surprised me and took him up on it. I knew that John didn’t mind a good fight if he had the reason to do so so maybe he just felt like he had been challenged. John asked the hooligan if he was up for a game. He said they would stand toe to toe. They would flip a coin. The winner would get the first punch and then the other man would return it. This would continue until someone gave up or was knocked out. The hooligan was all for it. I flipped the coin and the hooligan won the toss. The entire crew and the other three hooligans formed a circle around the combatants. They squared up and I saw John brace himself. The hooligan delivered the best punch he could throw from the close quarters. It caught John square on the jaw and his head snapped to the side. He looked at the guy and smiled. Now it was his turn. John is about as ruff and tuff as they come and he let his right fist sail into the hooligan's jaw. The guy’s knees started to buckle but to his credit he stayed on his feet. He was a little unsteady as he threw another haymaker that found its mark. John just shook it off again with the same smile. Now John let his hip turn as he threw a cross from his shoulder. I saw the hooligan's lip split open and he spit out a tooth. He was still on his feet but more shaky now. He let a good right hand fly once again and John’s head snapped back and he started spitting blood. He was still smiling. John kind of gave a grunt as he let his right hand fly once more. It was a crushing blow to the nose of the hooligan. There was blood everywhere and the guy sank down on one knee. He got up and gathered himself. John braced himself for the next punch which connected but it was a weaker punch and only grazed John's face. John asked him if he wanted to quit. The guy shook his head no. John let one fly and there was a sickening crunch and more teeth were spit out but the guy stayed on his feet. He was tough. He let John have another punch but this one was weaker still. John delivered his next punch into the gut and the guy doubled over and went down on his face. All the fight was gone out of him now. His friends picked him up and they left camp telling John they couldn’t believe what he had done to their friend. They said he’d never been beaten in a fight. They said they were going to tell everyone in town that the rumors about us were true, that we were not to be messed with. The next day we worked the kettle. John’s face was badly bruised and he couldn’t eat solid food because his teeth were sore and one was loose. We did a good day’s work and ended up with one ounce of gold. John was eating oatmeal for supper.