** Lost Gold At The Dead Man's Mine ** A Miners Journal **

[GhostMiner]

 

[GhostMiner]

I call this one Big Clay's theme song. See everyone tomorrow. We got some drinkin' to do.

 

 

[Old Miner Don]

1 hour ago, GhostMiner said:

I call this one Big Clay's theme song. See everyone tomorrow. We got some drinkin' to do.

 

 

I'll take 2 of those green Macks.

[GhostMiner]

  September 15   2002     Part Three

 

   We were all at the end of the bar drinking and everything was fine. I was talking with Clay and Conor and suddenly noticed that Jacob had wandered down to the other end of the bar and was talking with the two women. I didn’t think too much about this at first but after a few minutes I could see several of the loggers getting agitated with Jacob. The music was kind of loud and I couldn’t hear what was being said. I pointed this out to Conor and Clay and we walked over there to see what was going on.

   When we got there Jacob was confronting two of the loggers from one of the crews. I knew from experience that loggers stick together, even if they are from different crews. And they like to fight. These two in particular looked to be in their thirties. I don’t think either one of them had seen a shower or bathtub for more than a week. One of them was wiry but the other one was burly. They were what I call dirtbags. Now we didn’t look a whole lot better than they did but we had cleaned up some before heading to town. These guys still had saw dust on their filthy clothes.

   Conor asked Jacob what was going on. Jacob laughed and said that the low life loggers didn’t like him talking with the two ladies. I for a fact knew that Jacob despised loggers and he may have come over there just to get under their skin. Or he may have genuinely been interested in the barroom gals. Hard to tell.

   Well, when Jacob used the words low life that ignited a spark in the two lumberjacks. One of them grabbed old Jacob by the front of his shirt and pinned him up against the bar. I had just started to holler “Hey” when a big arm and fist came sailing past me and into the face of the logger. Big Clay had let a punch fly before anyone could say howdy. 

   I saw the logger go flying backwards over a bar stool. His partner stepped into the action and was about to hit Clay from the side but I caught him with a good right hand that grazed his jaw and stopped him in his tracks. Now the rest of his crew was up from their table and coming towards us. The second logging crew was still watching but I figured they’d get in the mix as well. It was looking like we might have started something we might not be able to finish. 

   TO BE CONTINUED ..........

[GhostMiner]

 

[GhostMiner]

   September 15   2002     Part Four

 

   The guy that Clay had sent flying over the barstool was not getting up but the one I had punched was turning towards me. I started to raise my hand to block his punch but it turned out I didn’t have to worry. Clay clocked him but good with a blind sided right hand from hell that sent him flying back over a table near the crew that was still sitting and taking everything in.

   Now there were five more coming towards us and cursing up a storm. By now Conor was looking for a weapon and latched onto a beer bottle. Jacob had pulled his buck knife and was standing with his back to the bar ready for action. All I could think was that this awful place hadn’t changed much since the 1930’s and the plan of having a relaxing evening had vanished with the first punch. 

   Somebody in the barroom hollered that the police should be called but I heard the bartender behind me say that there was no one on duty right now. We decided quickly to make our stand at the bar by letting the loggers come to us. Jacob was hollering for them to come on ahead and he’d cut them to ribbons. He looked half crazed. Come ahead they did and the punches were flying. Conor and I took care of one of them while Clay sent two of them reeling backwards. Conor turned and caught another one of them on the head with the bottle he was using as a weapon. Then I got caught with a punch that sent me crashing back into the bar but Jacob grabbed the guy from behind. He had a hold of his hair and had stuck the knife across his throat. Everything stopped. Jacob told him that if he even breathed hard he'd cut his throat. And I think he meant it.

   Lucky for us the logging crew was drunk and they didn’t have a lot to bring to the fight. The two gals that had been sitting at the end of the bar were long gone. The second logging crew had not made a move. There were only two of the loggers we were fighting still on their feet now and one had a buck knife to his throat. Before we could figure out our next move the bartender had pulled a shotgun out from somewhere under the bar and he squeezed off a shot into the ceiling. The entire place went quiet except for the jukebox. He told us to clear out. He said he was going to close the place for the night and wanted us gone before anyone else left. I looked over at Clay and he said “Let’s go.” Jacob released the logger and we eased on out of that sh.. hole. 

   TO BE CONTINUED .............

[GhostMiner]

   September 16   2002

 

   Everyone had breakfast together this morning and we were all talking about what had happened last night. I don’t know for sure if we are banned from going into the tavern now but we all agreed to stay away from that place for the rest of the mining season.

   The weather has made a turn for the better. We listened to the radio forecast and the prediction was for hot and dry weather again. This was good news. It will help dry things out. As of this morning the creek is still running hard and there is water all the way across the floodplain to the base of the mountain. We walked across the bridge and inspected the footings which still looked ok. Then we walked up the haul road. There are several areas that have been washed out and need attention. The water isn’t too deep around the processing site and we are going to use the skid steer to take some coarse tailings up the road and at least get the first washout repaired if possible. Then hopefully tomorrow Clay can get Old Bulldog back in action and we can finish the road work and start hauling pay gravel again.   

   TO BE CONTINUED ...............

[GhostMiner]

   September 17   2002

 

   The weather today was bright and sunny and temperatures were in the low 80’s. The rains are long gone now and the creek has come down some. Yesterday Conor and I worked until nearly dark on the haul road while Clay and Jacob did some maintenance on Old Bulldog. We were able to get the washed out areas repaired so Clay could get his truck about halfway up the old mountain road. We dumped rock in the bottom of the bad areas and then we were able to scoop loose gravels from the side of the road into the washed out places. I mixed in some coarse tailings with the gravels and the repaired areas are good enough to drive a car over. 

   Clay got his Mack over the bridge and close to the processing area. I loaded him up with tailings and he proceeded up the mountain in reverse. Conor followed him with the skid steer. There was no room on the haul road to turn a truck around and until we got the last part of the road repaired Clay had to drive up there backwards. There was just room enough to get the skid steer out of his way so that he could drive back down the mountain. It’s not an easy task going up there in reverse as the turns are tight with a few bad drop offs but Clay was more than up to the job. We had the old mountain road completely repaired by dusk so tomorrow we will begin hauling pay gravel and running the tom. There is nothing to stop us now.

   TO BE CONTINUED .............

 

   

[dig4gold]

19 hours ago, GhostMiner said:

   September 15   2002     Part Four

 

   The guy that Clay had sent flying over the barstool was not getting up but the one I had punched was turning towards me. I started to raise my hand to block his punch but it turned out I didn’t have to worry. Clay clocked him but good with a blind sided right hand from hell that sent him flying back over a table near the crew that was still sitting and taking everything in.

   Now there were five more coming towards us and cursing up a storm. By now Conor was looking for a weapon and latched onto a beer bottle. Jacob had pulled his buck knife and was standing with his back to the bar ready for action. All I could think was that this awful place hadn’t changed much since the 1930’s and the plan of having a relaxing evening had vanished with the first punch. 

   Somebody in the barroom hollered that the police should be called but I heard the bartender behind me say that there was no one on duty right now. We decided quickly to make our stand at the bar by letting the loggers come to us. Jacob was hollering for them to come on ahead and he’d cut them to ribbons. He looked half crazed. Come ahead they did and the punches were flying. Conor and I took care of one of them while Clay sent two of them reeling backwards. Conor turned and caught another one of them on the head with the bottle he was using as a weapon. Then I got caught with a punch that sent me crashing back into the bar but Jacob grabbed the guy from behind. He had a hold of his hair and had stuck the knife across his throat. Everything stopped. Jacob told him that if he even breathed hard he'd cut his throat. And I think he meant it.

   Lucky for us the logging crew was drunk and they didn’t have a lot to bring to the fight. The two gals that had been sitting at the end of the bar were long gone. The second logging crew had not made a move. There were only two of the loggers we were fighting still on their feet now and one had a buck knife to his throat. Before we could figure out our next move the bartender had pulled a shotgun out from somewhere under the bar and he squeezed off a shot into the ceiling. The entire place went quiet except for the jukebox. He told us to clear out. He said he was going to close the place for the night and wanted us gone before anyone else left. I looked over at Clay and he said “Let’s go.” Jacob released the logger and we eased on out of that sh.. hole. 

   TO BE CONTINUED .............

Jacob can take full responsibility for starting that s#it fight. Not fair on the rest of you. What was he thinking??

D4G 

[Mike Furness]

50 minutes ago, dig4gold said:

What was he thinking??

He wasn't ... and that is the problem! The 'old days' are gone but not for him. What is he 70 something at that time of the fight. He hated the loggers as much as the loggers hated him ... maybe more! Or at least that is how I read it.