With lobster season now officially over, I can now take some time and try and make some money to buy new diving equipment.

Every single glove, wetsuit and boot that I have has holes in it.

So, it’s back up to the East Fork to become wealthy – and with Gold now around $1,000 a Troy ounce, all I would need is a teaspoonful of flakes to make my trip worthwhile.

I arrived in the parking lot at the end of the road at 7 AM.

I figured out how to pack my sluice, shovels, pick, pans, classifiers, cigars, lunch, beer and cleaning kit into one backpack.

I tried to recruit another person to come along, but nobody could make it – or didn’t want to come; I didn’t even consider “Mr. Know It All” from previous trips for today’s run – he’s totally out of shape and needs to rest every 100 yards for a “smoke and beer break.”

So, just like solo SCUBA diving, I went solo prospecting today.

I was fully prepared to use my martial arts abilities should anybody try and take my Gold.

I hiked for about 40 minutes up river and started to sample pan areas where the water slowed.

From what I have heard, the Gold here is very spotty; you can be working an area five feet away from someone who’s pulling out color, but end up with nothing.

I came across a huge rock in the middle of the ice cold river that looked like it had virgin gravel deposits on the down stream side.

I crossed the river in almost waist high water to get a sample.

I panned – and there were Gold flakes.

I went back and crossed with my equipment.

I packed my sandwiches a little too far below the water line – the turkey was still good, but the bread was soggy and ruined; I would have to get my lunch time carbs from my beer.

I set up my sluice box and unpacked the rest of my equipment.

Behind the big boulder is where I started to dig.

People wonder why prospectors dig behind the rock – on the opposite side of the water flow – but Gold is so heavy is collects where water slows.

The sun started to peak into the canyon.

This place is sort of desolate, so I didn’t have to worry about any chicks being offended by potential “plumber’s crack,” but I did look over my shoulder when I had to get rid of some used beer.

There was an abundance of river deposits behind that rock; I moved many buckets of heavy gravel in the four hours I was there.

It would have taken me hours to pan what my sluice box can do in a matter of minutes.

It’s cool to drink a beer, smoke a cigar and watch the heavier gravel (and hopefully Gold) get caught in the rifles as the lighter stuff flies out the end.

I ended up collecting three loads of sluice concentrate before panning it.

The most anyone can ever hope to collect here, from what I had heard, is flake and flour Gold; nuggets are very rare…

…and that’s what I got – a few flakes of Gold for four hours of digging.

Sort of sucks, but as I was hiking back I met two prospectors who had been working this area as a hobby for several years.

The best advice that both of them gave me was, “go to Sheep Mountain – it’s a six hour hike way past the Bridge To Nowhere.

“That place hasn’t been over worked like around here and they’re still finding nuggets.

“Plan on spending at least one night – and it gets cold up here at night.”

They gave me a few more really good pointers on how and where to find Gold here, but I’m getting tired of writing.

As the answer to the question, “Where do you find Gold?”

“Gold is where you find it.”

My wetsuit is getting pretty threadbare and I just lost all my money at the racetrack, so I decided to strike it rich in Gold country again.

It didn’t rain much last Winter and this place has been heavily worked for the last 150 years, so I was hoping just to collect some flakes; a teaspoon full of Gold flakes today is worth $600.

My digging compatriot Ron, aka “Mr. Know It All” did his traditional job of carrying the beer and sluice box for our hike up in to the hills.

We found a spot where we were hoping Gold would have collected.

I dig under a rock.

Ron brought some wenches to move large rocks, which worked really well.

We over turned a few rocks that shined with specs of a nice Gold color!

We collected these rocks to scrape the Gold flakes off once at home.

I gave Ron one beer for every foot of ground he could dig.

If he had the strength, he would probably have dug to China.

I calculated that we must have moved 30 to 40 gallons of heavy black sand – digging, classifying and running it through the sluice box.

I picked out a few Gold flakes, so I had some hope for when we panned the concentrate.

Without falling over, Ron did a good job of panning the concentrate; he took out a heavy magnet and picked up every last spec of everything that was in the pan… 40 gallons of black sand netted us nothing, but at least we had the rocks to scrape!

Unfortunately, the rocks ended up being covered with pyrite – fools Gold!

So, $20 in gas and a case of beer later, my Gold take was probably four small flakes – not even enough to buy any neoprene cement.