Returning to the Fields

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Well there was one time in 1990 I had my younger brother with me on his first trip out detecting. Robert is much more of a social city type of person than I am, and was quite apprehensive about riding in my 1973 International Harvester pickup to the middle of nowhere. This particular trip out he was right. There is a nice gravel road out of Lovelock that goes past the Rye Patch fields, and we were making good time at about 60 mph when the passenger front tire blew. After coming to a stop I noticed the damage to the tire was catastrophic. After changing to the 1st spare I walked the road and about 50 yards back found the culprit. It was a piece of threaded rod with 2 fender washers sandwiched between two nuts. One end was sharpened, the longer end was longer and had been driven into the ground. The notorious part was the paint job on the thing. It had been painted and dirt kicked on the wet paint. I only found it because the tire had yanked it out of the ground. A few minutes later I discovered the true purpose of these things when I lost BOTH tires on the drivers side. Since I only had 1 more spare we were stuck. Robert was coming apart at the seams by this point. Cell phone? not in 1990.

I calmly explained to him that we had 3 weeks of supplies for this 3 day trip and I have never been along this road that someone didnt come by after coupla days or so. Oddly, that didnt help his demeanor at all. When I fired up my trusty minelab gt-16000 to pass the time and his comment was something along the lines of BLEEP!, bleep bleep BLEEP!. I was thoroughly enjoying being an older brother at this point I have to admit:) I knew I could drive the 20 miles or so to Lovelock on one flat tire but they were new and that would be a last resort. Somehow I had not thought to inform him of this. We were there overnight. He found a rattler during the day while looking for a place to relieve himself, and even though he moved away safely it turned him into a blithering idiot for an hour or so. Robert also discovered the effect of beer at 4000 ft of elevation is quite different than his sea level home. I have never had so much fun not finding gold in my life even to this day. The next morning a Ford pickup stopped for us and his spare fit my IH. Back in Lovelock I got the tire situation fixed up and when I turned back onto that same road all hell broke loose in the cab of that truck! That trip ended in Reno playing the slot machines LOL!

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