Fool's Gold, and other pretty frauds. Part One.

Rock hunting, like so many other endeavors, is a kind of treasure hunt.  Whether we're looking for amethyst crystals or agate nodules or veins of serpentine or boulders of jade, we always head out with the hope of striking it rich.  That hope may be very faint, and we may have other objectives as well, such as seeing some great scenery or just enjoying the outdoors with friends, but the hope is still there.

Most of the time we don't hit that big score.  We come home tired and happy with whatever it was we did find, or we console ourselves on not finding anything this time but next time we certainly will.  Sometimes, of course, we do find something really fantastic, like that big brick of agate-veined red jasper I dug out of the ground at Brenda, Arizona or this agate nodule my husband picked up at Saddle Mountain, Arizona.  We were leaving the site, turning onto the road to head home, and he saw it out the truck window.  It was just perched on the top of the gravel heaped up by the road grader.

And yes, that's in inches.  It's almost 8 inches (20 cm) long and weighs well over 2 pounds.  The outer part is banded agate with a solid, not hollow, crystal center.

When we find it ourselves, we pretty much know it's the real thing, even if we don't know what real thing it is! 

Iron pyrite, commonly called fool's gold, is just one of the many natural "fakes" we may find, and probably the best-known.  It's not gold, of course, though it's metallic and shiny and kind of golden in color.  Mother Nature has fooled a lot of fools into thinking they'd scooped up a fortune when all they really had was a scoop of iron sulfide, also known as pyrite.  Some of those fools have then turned the trick on others, or at least tried to.

That's not to say iron pyrite is without value just because it's not gold.  Did you know marcasite jewelry, popular especially during the Victorian era but still made today, uses faceted iron pyrite for its glitter?  Although there is a mineral called marcasite that is also an iron sulfide like pyrite, its crystal structure makes it unsuitable for faceting.  So in steps iron pyrite, fool's gold, to fool us once again!

Pyrite itself, of course, can be pretty enough on its own to be collectible.  This is a fist-sized chunk I purchased for an absurdly small sum at one of the Quartzsite shows several years ago. 
 

This smaller piece -- it's about the size of a U.S. quarter -- is from a bag of rocks I purchased at Chicago's Museum of Science and Industry on a school field trip when I was in fifth grade.  (Yes, I'm a hoarder.  Yes, I really do remember buying that bag of rocks on our fifth grade field trip.)

The location of Navajún, Spain, produces exquisite cubic crystals of iron pyrite.  The specimen pictured below was a gift to me from Rob, the son-in-law of my dear friends Jan and Alida from the Netherlands.  The pyrite crystals from Navajún are so bright and shiny that you can easily see the wood grain of my table reflected in the lower face of the leftmost crystal in this sample.  These crystals have not been polished in any way; they're still in the matrix in which they formed.

Pyrite occurs with other minerals.  It's what gives this brilliant blue lapis lazuli its glitter.

But iron pyrite still isn't gold.  When it's identified correctly and used correctly, collected and bought and sold as what it really is, it's not a fake and it's not a fraud.  The people who claim it's something else are the fakes and frauds.  Sadly, there are a lot of those people in the rock/gem/mineral businesses.  Even though most of us are up front and honest about what we do, there are enough bad eggs out there to give us all a bad name.

What can you do to protect yourself against fakes and frauds?  The best way is to educate yourself.  You'll not only learn which rocks and minerals are the real thing, but you'll also learn which people to trust and which not to.

Fool's gold is one of those frauds most of us encountered at a very young age, and it's been around a lot longer than all of us.  There are new frauds, new fakes, new scams cropping up just about every day.  Some of them are really almost laughable, but others are very pretty and like iron pyrite need to be appreciated for what they are rather than for what someone is trying to make them be.

Forgotten treasures

Hi.  My name is Linda.  I'm a rock hoarder.

Well, not really.  Or at least not quite.  The rocks haven't taken over every available space in the house.  I am able to throw away rocks I don't need.  And I don't comulsively buy every rock I can afford.

But I do have a lot of them.

With the purchase of the new saw a month ago, I began the process of, well, of processing some of the rocks I've accumulated over my almost 30 years in Arizona.  It's amazing, and a little bit discouraging, to see how many slices are produced by how few rocks.   I spent almost five solid hours on the saw yesterday, producing quite a pile of little slices, and yet the difference in the raw inventory was negligible!

With the tumbler occupied for the next two and a half weeks with already-filled barrels, I don't have any real pressure to cut a lot for immediate use.  With what I had cut a few weeks ago and this latest batch, I have enough to keep the tumbler running for at least the next ten to twelve weeks.  the old tumbler needs a new motor, so it's out of commission for a while, but even if I replace the motor and fire that machine up, I probably won't need to cut any more until July or August.

But that new saw is waiting, just itching to sink its diamond-studded teeth into the next chunk of agate or jasper.

I started yesterday with my signature stones, the angel feathers.

Then I moved on, for the sake of a little variety, to some agate nodules I'd picked up at Fourth of July Butte probably 20 years ago.  They were in a box labeled "Bue-Grey Agate," and I suspected some of them might display a bit of lavender or purple shading as well.  Sure enough, the first three or so stones I sliced had distinct purplish zones in the agate.  Of course, that purple doesn't show up very well when photographing small, unpolished rocks in less than optimal light, but trust me:  These are purple.  Well, purple-ish.  The white angel feathers on either side show the contrast, but the shade just isn't exact.  You will have to take my word for it.  (And anyway, it's my blog!  ;-)  )

I sorted through some more of those blue-grey rocks this morning, but didn't find anything that demanded I cut right into it.  As the temperature was already warming up, I wanted to do some more investigation in the workshop before it got too hot.

 

To be honest, the plastic shoeboxes on the shelves to the right do not all contain rocks.  I think only two of them do.  Those on the industrial shelves on the left, however, are all rocks.  There are other boxes not visible in this picture.  There are 20 or so five-gallon buckets in another storage area, all filled with rocks.  The task is daunting.  But it is not without its rewards.

This morning, for example, one of the first shoeboxes I opened contained a chunk of lavender flower agate from Fourth of July Butte.  We had cut a few slices from it years ago, one of which yielded this cabochon.  When I sold the pendant, the buyer asked if I had any more similar to it.  I didn't then; I will now.

Finished items, including agates from Fourth of July Butte, are for sale in my AZ Angel Feathers shop on Etsy.

Update to I'm on Google Earth

As I wrote yesterday, the date on the Google Earth image of me and my Blazer at the Chickenman place was incorrect.  I was there on 30 December, not on 29 December as shown in the screenshot.

For some bizarre reason, the date is correct when viewed on my laptop.

Go figure. 

Regardless, the date of 30 December 2014 is correct.  That's the day I was there.

I still think this is just too bizarre.

I'm on Google Earth!

Follow up to
http://arizonareallyneatrocks.blogspot.com/2015/01/on-rocky-road-again.html

Last December I made that trip out to the Chickenman place, partly with the help of good ol' Google Earth.

The past few days I've been having some rather annoying computer problems, which have been at least temporarily resolved by changing a few settings and switching to Firefox.  After transferring a few files and making sure the basics were working all right, I decided to relax -- the whole ordeal had been pretty stressful -- and also check to make sure some of my other programs and accessories were still functioning.

Google Earth being a fun little application anyway, I booted it up and immediately headed for a virtual trip to the Chickenman place.  Imagine my total surprise when I found myself!

The Google "Imagery Date" is 12/29, but it's just plain wrong.  I was out there on the 30th, the day before New Year's Eve.  That's my little white Blazer at precisely the place I turned off the track, and that's me standing about three or four car lengths to the 4:00/5:00 angle from the car.

The first batch of stones cut from the material I collected that day is tumbling as I write this.

My new toy!

I have needed a new rock saw for a very long time.  My old Lortone combination unit was used when we bought it 25 years ago, and it was just plain falling apart.  Its 6-inch saw blade worked fine for trimming out cabochon blanks from slabs, but for slicing even small angel feather nodules it was just barely adequate.  Agates and jaspers wore out those little blades in a hurry, too.

About three years ago I began saving up for a new saw.  I would have preferred a slightly larger one, but opted for the Lortone 8-inch stainless steel trim saw. 

Full disclosure:  As I have stated in reviews of other products and in my book Really Neat Rocks I am not compensated in any way for my comments on the Lortone saw.  I paid full retail price for it from an independent supplier (Kingsley North).  I do not know anyone at Lortone nor have I had any communication with the company regarding their equipment.  In addition to the used combination unit and this saw, I currently own two Lortone tumblers with which I have been more than satisfied.  Again, those were purchased at full retail price.  I have received nothing from Lortone ever.

The saw arrived fully assembled except for installing the blade.  That process was a piece of cake.  The most difficult part for me was just lifting the 60 pounds of saw and motor out of the box and hoisting it to the workbench.  It wasn't all that heavy, but I'm too short to get good leverage!  Still, within just a few minutes it was in place, and the blade was installed.  All it needed then was lubricating oil . . . and rocks!

Now, you may think I had some difficulty finding a rock to cut.  You would be totally wrong.  I have lots and lots and lots and lots of rocks.  The real problem was deciding which rock would be the first!

I probably should have taken a picture of the very first rock cut on the new saw, but the truth of the matter is I got so excited at how beautifully it cut that I didn't stop to take any pictures at all.  By the time I did take a break and cleaned up enough to grab the camera, I had a whole tray of new little rock slices.

And another

And then I was more interested in cutting than taking pictures!

After two weeks and several sessions on the saw, I can say I'm 95% satisfied with it.

Why not 100%?  Two reasons.

First:  The plastic/Plexiglas splash shield is very effective, but it's also easily scratched by the fine particles of stone.  There's no way to clean it without scratching.  That means it will probably need to be replaced at regular intervals through the saw's life.  I'm not sure that there's any other solution to this, but it does make for a less than perfect experience.

Second:  The so-called instruction manual is woefully inadequate as well as inaccurate. 

Inaccurate:  There's no way to install the blade by sliding it through any slot, slanted or otherwise.  The cutting table has to be removed to install and change blades.  This should be obvious to anyone who takes a mere glance at the equipment.  To suggest the blade can be removed or installed just by sliding it through the table is ridiculous.

Inadequate:  There are two slight oil leaks from where the shaft bearings are attached to the tank assembly.  There is nothing in the manual about this, which means I will have to call the company to find out whether this is normal or if it's something that needs repair. 

The manual is only four pages long and basically assumes the user already knows how to use the machine.  To me, that's a very dangerous assumption.  Lortone has repeatedly expanded the instruction manual(s) for their tumblers, so that with my most recent purchase on a new one just last year (2014), I learned via the "Instructions and Parts List" that there is a very easy adjustment for belt tension that was never mentioned in any of the previous manuals.

I haven't even tried to assemble or install the supplied vise; the instructions are insufficient to make me confident I'll do it correctly and not ruin the machine.  I don't need the vise anyway for the small items I cut.

Even with these shortcomings, I'm delighted with my new saw.  I have two batches of stones from it already in the tumblers -- one of sliced "angel feathers" and one of shaped cabochons for polishing -- and in the next month or so should have lots and lots of new stones to turn into jewelry.  In fact, it's time to change out one of those tumblers right now and see how well the stones are progressing.

Really Neat Rocks . . . from the Sea!

The past couple of months have been very, very busy for me, which is why I haven't written here.  It's not that I haven't been writing; it's just that I haven't been writing here.  Today that changes.


For one thing, I have ordered a brand new rock saw.  My old faithful Lortone was extremely used when we bought it 25 years ago, and it has given excellent service.  It has cut many, many rocks, been through many blades, a new motor, and I don't know what else.  Eventually, the table has worn out and the bottom is full of little holes.   It's just time to replace it.  Expected arrival of the brand new stainless steel Lortone Unit is Tuesday, and I'm beside myself with anticipation.


Part of the reason for the new saw is that I simply have all these really neat rocks around and I need to do something with them.  So, what's this particular blog going to be about?  Agates?  Jaspers?  Rainbow obsidian?


Nope.  Sea shells.

Sea shells?  Sea shells?

There is, of course, a story behind them, and that's why they're here today.

I love natural things, like stone and wood.  My photo albums are filled with pictures of clouds and rain and storms and mountains, trees and flowers and running water.  Because I lived the first 37 years of my life in the Midwest and the past 30 in Arizona, sea shells have never been an easily or readily acquired material, but that doesn't mean they don't attract my attention.

On one particular day, they really caught my attention.

Sunday, 19 October 1969, was a warm sunny day in Norfolk, Virginia.  A gorgeous day for heading to the beach at Ocean View.  My husband was in the Navy, stationed in Norfolk, and we didn't have a lot of money for entertainment, but an afternoon at the beach didn't cost anything.

The sand was littered with lovely shells, a kind I'd never seen before.  Thin, translucent, in colors from a creamy pearl ivory to a rich golden orange, they seemed to be just about everywhere.  He found an old cigar box on the beach and I began picking up shells.

The big crafting rage in those days was poured resin casting, and we had it in mind to make a round tabletop.  The shells would make excellent material for such a project.  It never happened.  I kept the shells, but we never had the spare cash to buy the resin or the mold to pour it in.  We moved back to Indiana, where sea shells were only souvenirs from somewhere else.  And then, so many years later, we moved to Arizona and its really neat rocks.

But of course the sea shells came with me.  They've sat in two small boxes in my desk drawer for years now.  Once in a while I take them out to look at and wonder what kind of jewelry I could make from them.  Nothing has yet quite come to mind, although there are possibilities percolating in my brain.

Last night those two small boxes kind of came alive with whisperings from those shells.  It occurred to me that I didn't even know what kind of shells they were, though of course I knew exactly when and where I had found them.  So I threw up a question post on Etsy.com.  This morning I had my answer.  Thank you so much, Jackie Locantore!

They're called "Jingle Shells."

http://www.mitchellspublications.com/guides/shells/articles/0001/

So named because a handful of these thin, translucent clamshell halves make a jingling sound when shaken together, Jingle Shells (Anomia simplex) are sometimes found as far north as the coast of Nova Scotia, and all the way down south to Brazil.

Well, now that I know what they are, I suppose I ought to figure out something to do with them!

Another successful visit to the Flagg Show in Mesa

One of my New Year's Resolutions was to post to this blog every Friday.  My good intentions went out the window last week because of the weather.  Normally I visit the Flagg Gem and Mineral Show in Mesa, Arizona, on Sunday, but because the forecast was a bit iffy for the week-end, I decided to head over there on Friday.

I love the Mesa show, and I recommend it to everyone in the area, especially those who have never been to a gem and mineral show before.  Unlike Tucson, the Mesa show is compact, affordable, friendly, and comfortable.

I pulled out of my driveway at 9:40 a.m. and arrived at the Mesa Community College parking lot about 10:15.  The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and I was all set.

The show is laid out in rows in the parking lot, so it's easy to start at one corner and just go up and down, up and down the rows and take in EVERYTHING.  I was by myself this year, with no one to slow me down or rush ahead of me or bug me with questions.

Each year I have different items that I'm especially interested in, and this year it was colorful agate and jasper slabs.  Inexpensive ones, of course, but if I found something really special, I was prepared to pay a little more.  My budget is limited, now that I'm not burdened with the day job, and I have to be careful not to splurge.  It's not always easy!

I am, unfortunately, addicted to two particular items:  green moss agate and crazy lace agate.  Every year I promise myself I will not buy any more green moss, and every year I buy some anyway.  The past two years I really indulged my passion for crazy lace, so I promised myself no more extravagances like that.  I was determined to stick to my resolve.

Well, I did, sort of.

Some of the vendors at the Mesa show are local lapidary clubs raising funds for their activities.  Members contribute excess inventory or whatever, and this are great places to find bargains.  Last year I picked up five small slabs for a little bit of nothing, and among them were a lovely slice of purple Burro Creek agate, and a piece of Royal Aztec Lace agate. 

This year from one of the club booths I bought two small pieces of crazy lace for 50 cents each! 

It pays to dig through the tubs and trays and buckets of bargains.  At another booth that had two big tubs marked "50¢" I just couldn't resist a long visit.  Down under all the miscellaneous slices of unidentified agates, jaspers, and even some petrified wood, I found a couple small pieces of fossil dinosaur bone just the right size to have their edges ground smooth and then tossed in the tumbler to polish.  I quickly added a large (6" x 3") slice of beautiful red, orange, and yellow jasper-agate that might have been from Mexico but also looked like some of the best of the Arizona Agate Mine material.  The next selection was a red agate with some white fortification stringers that probably is from Mexico.  I estimated it would yield four, five, or maybe even six beautiful cabochons.

Over the years I've learned, mostly by trial and error, to recognize which slabs are most likely to polish well.  It's not always obvious, especially when the slabs are displayed wet.  Whether they're put out on a table in a tub or tray of water or the vendor provides a spray bottle, the slabs may or may not turn out quite the way they look when wet.  The colors are more likely true than the finish, but the finish is important, too.

Wetting the stones often masks flaws such as cracks of fractures that become evident when the stone dries.  In the case of crazy lace or other banded agates, even a microscopic fracture can prove disastrous, since these agates tend to break along the banding lines anyway. 

But at 50 cents each, the risk is minimal, and I was determined to indulge, at least a little bit.  So I added two more slices to my stack and paid my $3.  Three whole dollars!

Why didn't I buy more?  Because it was early in the show, just the second or third row, and I didn't want to spend all my money in one place.  I could always come back . . . .

The weather continued glorious.  The crowd was sparse because it was Friday, so I felt comfortable strolling and browsing leisurely.  I bought a nice piece of Afghan lapis, though it wasn't as nice as what I've bought in the past; the lady I usually buy from wasn't there at all, and she had much better material.  But the piece I bought is still lovely and will make a beautiful pendant wrapped in sterling silver wire.

About two-thirds of the way through the rows, I came to a booth with box after box after box of beautiful exotic agates.  The vendor himself was busy with two other customers, so I busied myself digging through one of those boxes.  The price on it wasn't "50¢"; it was "$.15/gram."  That's approximately $68 per pound!  And rocks aren't exactly light in weight.

The advantage I had was that I was looking for small stones.  I didn't have to buy large slabs; small individual pieces could be ground to a particular shape and then polished.  While I was searching, I had the opportunity to eavesdrop on the conversation the vendor was having with his other two customers.

They were trying to get bargains, but they apparently weren't willing to look around.  Yes, some of the most beautiful agates -- the Lagunas and Coyamitos and Moctezumas -- are expensive.  They're rare and they require hard work to mine and transport.  The process of cutting the agate nodules requires expensive equipment and time, too. 

The vendor tried to explain all this to his customers, but I could tell he wasn't getting anywhere.  By that time I had pulled four small bits of beautiful agate from that tub and I handed them to him to weigh.

"What are the damages on these?" I asked him, half afraid to find out.

He set up his little scale and set the four pieces on it.

"See," he said, "those guys should've done what you did.  They wanted bargains, but you took the time to look for some.  You've got beautiful Lagunas here."

At that point I imagined myself telling him I couldn't afford whatever price he was going to come up with.  It would be embarrassing, but I'd have to put them back.

He got the weight from his scale, then took out his calculator to figure out the total price.  I held my breath.

"Ten bucks," he said.

Ten dollars for four little rocks?  Yes!  I paid it and gladly.  They were definitely worth it.

Did he give me a break on them?  I don't know.  For all I know he overcharged me!  Maybe he's just a good salesman, because as I walked away with my purchases, he heard him say to his next customer, "That lady got some good ones.  You just gotta look, and know what you're lookin' for."

I strolled through the rest of the show, picked up a few more little purchases, and then around 1:30 I had reached the last row.  I added up all my expenditures and discovered I had spent only $30!  Even though I was satisfied with what I'd bought, I guess I had money burning a hole in my pocket.  I knew exactly what I was going to do:  Hit the 50-cent booth again.

I was pretty sure I remembered where it was.  I knew what that tub looked like, and the cardboard sign with the hand-written price.  But by now it was 1:30.  I was tired.  I'm not used to all that walking -- though I'm getting better! -- and despite bringing plenty of water with me, I was feeling a bit dehydrated.  And, frankly, I was hungry, too!  The end result was that I couldn't find the booth again, and I didn't have the energy to really try.  Feeling a little disappointed, I gave up, walked back to my car, and headed home.

My disappointment intensified when I got home and sorted through my purchases.  Along with the dino bone and agate slabs, I had somehow, subconsciously or whatever, bought two beautiful slices of green moss agate from the 50-cent place!!  Not one, but two!! Argh!

They're gorgeous, and I love green moss agate, but I just didn't need any more.  The money wasn't an issue; the two slices only cost me a dollar.  But why did I buy those instead of . . . something else?

I woke up Saturday morning even more upset with myself.  After stewing about the situation for a while, I decided just to go back to Mesa and find that booth again.  I would NOT buy any more green moss agate. 

When I pulled out of the driveway this time, the clock in the car read 8:44.  Traffic was light, and I arrived at Mesa Community College at 9:20.  Rested, and motivated, I quickly found the booth in question.  I didn't care that the two tubs were filled with cold (and dirty!) water.  I was determined to find some good stuff to compensate for my addiction to moss agate.

I probably spent half an hour, maybe a little more.  There was no need to rush.  I had already seen the rest of the vendors, so I could take my time and get what I wanted.  I set myself a limit of 40 slabs; regardless of size, they were 50 cents each, so I wasn't going to spend more than $20.

This time I stacked up Brazilian agates and petrified wood.  A slice of pink banded onyx.  Two more little bits of dino bone.  Another slab of Burro Creek purple that would yield at least one nice cabochon; at 50 cents, I didn't need to get more than one.  Mookaite jasper from Australia.  A delicate white tube agate from who knows where.

(Mookaite, middle left; white tube agate, lower left; Arizona petrified wood, bottom center; pink banded onyx, lower right)

 

(Brazilian agates, upper left, upper center semi-circle, and upper right; dinosaur bone, two small pieces upper center; mookaite, lower right)

 

And then, at the bottom of one of those tubs of dirty water, I saw a little lump.  I'm used to little lumps out in the field when rock hunting, so I picked this one up and turned it over.

 

 

It's not very big, but it's big enough to cut at least one slice.  Could be Laguna, maybe.  Whatever it is, it was well worth half a dollar.

 

I had a 32 pieces; I paid $16 and that was it.  I returned to the car and drove home.  I'd been gone barely an hour and a half.

 

On Sunday I cranked up the rock saw -- it hasn't fallen apart yet! -- and cut cabochon blanks until I completely wore out the blade.  It felt really, really, really good.

 

Arizona does indeed have really neat rocks, even if some of them are brought in from elsewhere for a show.  If you missed Mesa, Quartzsite is coming up, and after that, Tucson. . . .

On the rocky road again!

This past Tuesday was an absolutely splendid day for rock hunting here in our central Arizona deserts.  With rain and colder temperatures predicted for the long New Year's week-end, I decided to take advantage of Tuesday's opportunity.  With a little bit of lunch and a lot of water packed in my cooler, I set out for one of my favorite chalcedony locations.



And you're going to have to humor me, because this is a "secret" location.  I'm not going to tell you where it is.  You'll understand, I hope, when you finish reading.



My late husband and I discovered this place about 25 years ago, by accident.  We were looking for another site someone had told us about, but either the directions were wrong or I misunderstood them, and we ended up sort of lost.  Not lost in the sense of "Where are we?" but in the sense of not being where we intended to go.  But being out in the desert, we figured we might as well look around and see if we could find anything.



As it turned out, we didn't find much, except for a few small pieces of what looked like orange-ish, pinky jasper.  Just three or four chunks, none of them very big.  And then we gave up and went home.

Two of those jasper chunks, however, produced some very lovely cabochons, including this one:

 

 

Life being what it is, we didn't have a chance to go back to that spot, wherever it was, for a couple of years.  We had acquired a four-wheel drive pick-up at that time and one day I suggested we try to find that spot and look for more pink jasper.

 

Somewhat to my husband's surprise -- and mine as well, to be perfectly honest -- I navigated us right back to that spot.  This time we were able to drive further off the main road than we had before.   We came upon a track that led away from the road and into the desert, so we knew people had been driving through here before.  After about a mile, the track more or less ended at a wash that had a steepish bank on the other side.   We made it across, barely, then drove just a little further before we stopped.

 

As soon as we stepped out of the truck, I began seeing small pieces of chalcedony . . . everywhere.  I'd never seen so many in one place!  Most were small and broken, but there were many nicely formed desert roses.  A lot of the pieces had areas of brightly sparkling druse; some were entirely covered with the tiny crystal coating.  Without much trouble, we located larger pieces of this material, large enough for slicing to make small cabochons.

 

Over the next several years, we returned to this location many times and we were never disappointed.  Though we never found very much more of the pink jasper, the occasional piece turned up.  In one particular area we found substantial-sized pieces of pink chalcedony.

 

 

The last time we went out there was December 2004.

 

So I headed back out there this past Tuesday for the first time in 10 years, by myself, adventurous.  Would I be able to find the same location?  Would I have any difficulty crossing that little wash with the steep bank?  Had the area been picked clean by other rockhounds?

 

Google maps confirmed the main roads hadn't changed, and Google Earth confirmed other details, so I set out with a certain amount of confidence that I'd have no trouble finding the place.  Sure enough, I drove right to it, turned off the paved road, and headed into the desert.  All the old excitement returned.

 

When I reached a point where I wanted to start looking for rocks, I parked and stepped out of the car.  I almost immediately reached back inside to grab the camera.

 

All those little red circles are around bits and pieces of chalcedony on the ground about two steps from my truck.  And now as I look at the photo again, I see some pieces at the bottom I missed!

Obviously not all of these stones are worth picking up.  They're pretty little leaverites.  But they're indicative of larger pieces . . . somewhere.



And the first of those larger pieces  wasn't very far away.

Yes, just lying on the ground, waiting for me to pick it up.



This is my secret place.  I brought home three small bags of rocks, not all of which really needed to be brought home.  I'll put some out in the "sparkle garden" by the front gate.  Others will be cut and polished and made into jewelry.  Some may end up wrapped in wire almost just as I picked them up.

That's what I did with this one, which my husband picked up on that second venture to what we dubbed "the Chickenman place."

Did I find anything quite that lovely this past Tuesday?  Did I find any nice chunks of pink chalcedony?  Well, you'll just have to wait and see.