- Joined
- Mar 8, 2015
- Messages
- 155
- Reaction score
- 316
I must start with an apology for not doing an intro before now. I joined back in April after taking some extended leave from duty and earnestly got back into prospecting in the magnificent New England district and the ever beautiful Central West of NSW.
As well as dusting off the pans and sieves, I set about making a river sluice and improving it over a few trips. I think those so inclined will agree, I got just about the same satisfaction out of making up and developing the sluice as I get when I have it in a stream. I love watching it work, the water stripping away the stones and sands and those gleaming colours that catch the eye as they reveal themselves against the black vee-ribbed rubber mat. Yeah, I know, reading my first posts here you might think I'm just a nerdy bloke full of words but, I started out in the trades and I still love making and inventing things out in the shed/man cave (with my bar fridge, flat screen etc...oh yeah I love my shed!!!) and getting out in the bush and away from the less desirable affectations of the city and 'The Human Condition'. What Banjo Paterson pend so aptly in Clancy of the Overflow as his, "...hurrying people that daunt me...and their pallid faces daunt me..., for townsfolk have no time to grow, they have no time to waste". But I somehow rather fancy, as Mulga Bill on his bicycle did, that I leave the city behind with a guttural shriek and as soon as I get out in the bush, make a leap into the Dead Mans Creek! Yep, we all somehow rather fancy that we'd like to change with Clancy, let the seasons come and go....
Hmm, back on subject now fella, before I pack up the Disco and bugger off to the Turon again...Zut alors ! Ehh..right, I have been fossicking since I was a lad at school where I made my first sluice. We were lucky, a bunch of the woodwork teachers were into prospecting and they used to take a bunch of us little adolescent miscreants up to Nundle for two weeks at the end of the school year. No wonder Old Northy and the other teachers used to disappear to the Peel Inn most nights...Then, my family would drive up and I had another week of charging around Hanging Rock and the Peel. I was in heaven, I loved the bush then as I still do today. I must have been mad, I used to walk miles, all bloody day... from Nundle to Hanging Rock and back via Oakenville Ck, from the falls at Swamp Ck, back over the mountains and into the Taroona Station blocks behind the Nundle Tip and from Bowling Alley Point along the river all the way back to the Nundle Caravan Park where we would stay. No wonder I joined the bloody Army, at least they payed me to walk!
I was back up at Nundle two weeks back (G'day Jeff, did you get that sluice bashed out?), crisp and frosty and -6 metric degrees centigrade at the Swamp Creek Camping Area but, sweet clean air and followed by glorious sunny winters days. Diving my hands into icy waters of Swamp Creek for the first time...I think the expression rhymed with ...clucking bell...Yeah, motivated me to set up the sluice and stop faffing about with my sieves and pans alright. And after three days of washing in the river, I remembered I could get a hot shower at the Chaffey Dam Recreation area, I was sooo happy (and warm) put double in the honesty box. In fact the bonus beaut sunset out towards Goonoo Goonoo with a glass of claret in my right claw and a bit of Johnny Cash in the Disco's disco machine rounded out a great day.
But, back to reality and work now and getting my kit tweaked (not twerked Miley...) and sorted for the warmer months that will soon be upon us. More reports of high adventure and digging and sluicing and walking miles in the heat and sleeping out under a million stars again soon!
Later Comrades,
Peacekeeper
PS, after the leaches ate my hand off, I caught them with my other good hand, taunted them and poked 'em with sticks for a while and then...let them run free again.
