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LOVE THY NEIGHBOR

 I grew up in small town middle America, where the whole town new each other. We would play kick the can during the summer evenings, and the whole town was safe to hide in. Everyone knew sooner or later that they would have a kid hiding in their bushes or behind their shed at some point or another. Everyone said hello when they saw you and waved as you drove by. After I got married, I moved to my wife's hometown, where things like this didn't happen. She is from a suburb of Kansas City, and though I enjoyed all the amenities of living next to a big city, I always felt uncomfortable. So, after 11 years we moved back to my home town. It wasn't till a few days ago that I noticed how much living in that area had changed me. I never met my neighbors in KC. We would nod if we seen each other in the yard but never once did we have a conversation. They just seemed unapproachable, and generally not interested in becoming acquainted.
  When we bought our house four months ago I made a list of things I had to do while we were moving in. I found that list the other day and on the very bottom it said: introduce yourself to your neighbors. I realized then that I had made no attempt at meeting my new neighbors. I would see them in passing and give them a nod, just like in KC. I couldn't believe that I had been so rude to people I had grown up with.
 The next morning I seen my neighbor in his yard and made a point to go over and reintroduce myself. We had a pleasant conversation and went about our business. From then on we would stop and talk with each other if we were out in our yards, he would ask me if I had found anything and I would show him my finds. After a week or two I noticed that the house next to me had been vacated and a for sale sign had come up. The people who lived there were, lets just say, not the kind you want as neighbors. The next time I saw my new friendly neighbor, I asked him if he knew who owned it, it is an old house and I wanted to ask permission to detect it. He told me he owns it but is selling it because he is tired of bad tenants. I ask permission to detect and he agreed without a thought. I quickly thanked him and shook his hand. As he walked away he said, " I am surprised you didn't ask sooner." I thought about that statement and wondered, if I would of put in the effort to finish my list, I could of had this permission a long time ago. Then I began to think of how many properties I missed out on because I was to scared to ask. I get most of my properties to detect from people I know are related to, I have never had the guts till that day to ask an acquaintance or neighbor if I could detect their property. I will never be a "door knocker" but I now realize it doesn't hurt to, after a few conversations, ask if I can detect their property. I now have seven more properties to detect and and found that all of them were waiting for me to ask.
 I finally got a few minutes to detect this evening after a hectic day of running errands and doing chores. I decided to go next door and do a quick scan in the neighbors yard. I found a 1917 wheat penny and $1.02 in clad.( Now the weather is turning bad again and will not get a chance to detect there again for at least a week, if the forecast is right.) I went  over to my neighbors house to show off my finds, and he was surprised at what I had found. I quickly offered the penny to him as a gesture of thanks, he accepted it and told me that when he was a kid he had collected coins. He thought about it a second and said, " you know, I think I still might have some in the garage, come with me." We went to his garage and he climbed into the rafters. I heard "Here they are," as he reached for a dusty box back in the corner. We retreated back inside and set at his kitchen table looking through his old coins. I looked up prices for him as he told me stories of how he got each one. We soon had sat looking at his collection for over 3 hours, his eyes still beaming as he carefully put each one back in the box. I asked, " are you going to put those back in the garage?" He looked at me with a boyish youthful grin that I had not seen on him before and said, "no, I think I will keep them in here where I can look at them some more. If you don't mind, I would like to go out with you next time. I think I will start adding to my collection again, thanks for reminding me how much I love it." With that we said our good byes and I walked to the house feeling good about finally being home.  

You can see the coin on my google plus account. Thanks for reading and HH

TODAY IS A BEAUTIFUL DAY PART 2

  As I predicted the day strayed from the original plan. I ran into my aunt at the local gas station, and, she reminded me that I had permission to go and detect Uncle Dave's place. Uncle Dave's place is one of our families original homestead farms. It was built in the early 1800's, it was a one bedroom dwelling with the kitchen and sitting area all open, it had no running water, or electricity, and an out house, for your necessities. 

 We call it "Uncle Dave's Place," because my great great Uncle Dave lived there until his death in the late 70's. Uncle Dave was a local folk legend, the kids would tell stories of a wild man, that once a month, rode to town on the back of donkey pulling a cart wagon, singing " Ol' My Darling," as he swayed back and forth, with his feet swinging loosely, his balance always in question, holding the reins in one hand, and a bottle of Whiskey in the other. He would ride down Main Street, turn left at the light, and park his donkey at the liquor Store. Tying his steed, usually to the car bumper of the store clerk, he would make his dismount, gracefully yet gingerly, and walk into the store with legs like a new born calf. 

 The legend of Uncle Dave was true, he was a professional drinker, and occasional farmer, as my Grandmother so profoundly state, with her Temperance Union Stoic look, staring down her nose at us children, hoping we didn't catch a whiff of her "afternoon nip" breath. 

 I hadn't been out to Dave's house to detect since last summer, the mosquitoes were so bad I only spent ten minutes attempting to detect. So, I thanked my aunt, repeatedly, as hurried out the door, jumping in the van, I started out of town, heading south.

 Uncle Dave's is in between Larned and Belpre Kansas, (Note: when a Kansan says in between two towns, he or she doesn't mean literally. As the prairie is flat, we use towns as land marks to generalize where we are. If I can see Larned and Belpre, and they are the closest two towns to me, I would say I am in between the two though in reality I may be 5 to 15 miles off the beaten path in either direction.) It is surrounded by a grove of trees, in the middle of a half section that both my Grandmas own, ( we will dive into that at a later date.) The house itself is dilapidated, the roof has caved in and the walls are sinking. The old barn is a pile of ruins, and, except for this time of year, is a notorious snake haven. The only functional building is the newer aluminum sided barn/shop that my grandpa had built when he farmed the land in the 60's. This isn't a beginners place to detect. It has fallen trees, a thick layer of underbrush, and 100's of " beaver tales" ( for the novice, a beaver tale is the old style pull tab off a beer can etc.,) strewn about the property. It was a perfect day, sun was shining, the temp was just cool enough for a light jacket, the wind was a light breeze ( in Central and Western Kansas a light breeze is anything between 10 to 30 mph gusts,) blowing just enough to keep any remaining insects away from you, the ground was thawed and soft to dig ( in this area the black soil is mixed with dessert like sand that makes it easy to dig and makes for quick thawing. I can dig 2 foot down with my hand trowel in under a minute in most fields.)  I began detecting.

 Detecting to me is an almost spiritual thing, a form of meditation and free thought if your will. I grew up with ADHD, I could never focus on anything for more than a few seconds all the way into adulthood. Metal Detecting changed that. The constant beeps and tones from the headphones keeps my attention focused as the constant swinging appeases my hyper activity. It distracts the ADHD if you will, and lets my mind think freely without interuptio...squirrel...see what I mean, lol. No, it really does free me from having to constantly remind my self to refocus. I used this method in college, I would focus on a sound, a tapping of a pencil, the steady breathe of the mouth breather behind me, the tics of the clock, then my site on a repeatedly moving or swaying item, like the clock hands, some one's foot tapping, any constant movement, then I rub my hand back and forth on my pant leg, simulating a smooth detecting stroke. This helped me retain more of the information being taught and raised my grades a bunch. I wish I would of discovered this in high school, I may of been a little less in the principles office and a little more in the classroom... on second thought.... yea, I doubt it. 

 I didn't find anything to mention, some beaver tales, washers, fencing, old tarp eyelets, caps off something, and some cool rocks is about all. There is one item that is worth cleaning, I don't want to get hopes up, but it does appear to have an eagle on it, but hard to say, it is soaking in dish water right now. I will update you at a later date. I do plan on putting out a new Youtube video by the end of the week, I am hunting another homestead tomorrow that holds a little more promise than ol' Uncle Dave's. 

  Being in nature, getting a little dirt under my nails, and connecting with my past, I would say, all in all, it was a Beautiful day.

Thanks for reading, and HH.

As a side note, I would like to thank everyone for their support and encouragement. I appreciate all the re posts and site's adding links, Like High Plains Prospectors did. I hope you all enjoyed this segment, more is on the way, please tell your friends and family if you like what you read, I added a subscription I believe, down below, please tell me if it works, I am not the most tech savvy guy. 

Thanks Again,

Kansas Digger

   

TODAY IS A BEAUTIFUL DAY Part 1

  I can feel the energy the full moon has bestowed in me. The wind is low and the temp is high, around 54 degrees today. I can feel the detector calling my name. A few short errands, take the wife to work, the kids to school, and put a new set of batteries in the old, worn down, but still kicking MXT. I have a few places in mind for the day. If the water is low in the Arkansas River, I want to head down to the sand bar and see what the Colorado flood has washed my way. Then, hit a ball field tucked away in the new park. It isn't very old but it has been the main fields for the town for about five years, and I don't believe it has been detected yet. The field is on the way to the old halfway house. I am hoping the frigid temps have killed off some of the weeds that have blocked me in certain areas. As usual these plans can easily be swayed, by a light breeze, carrying the smell of treasure lofting out of a not yet planted field. A hunch sometimes fills the day. I am always at the mercy of the calling land, guiding me to her hidden beauty, her slight curves in the tree line, revealing a small peek of foundation, a dimple in her smile where a basement use to be, or a slight bosom like hump, disrupting her flat lying plains, telling me, calling me, wanting me to caress the hair like grass with my thin white coil. I can almost taste the silver, the centuries old gun powder, the dirty thirties dust begging to finally be handled with gentle hand. reviling, relieving, and reliving all that it loved. Today my friends I venture out to find the Mother Load....

TAMING THE WINTER CROWD

 Unless you live in the south, this time of year is spent reminiscing, researching, cleaning, repairing, and planning for spring. The average detectorist puts away his trusted companion and settles into the dreaded "Weary Woes." These woes aren't easily noticed by the general public, but another detectorist can spot them easily. The symptoms include, a noticeable absence from forums and other frequented sites, or posting pics of all the silver for the year, an accumulation of funny pic re posts or an abundance of pics of their dogs. The winter can seem long for those who are geographically disabled. But, what if I told you that there are some fanatic's that are so daring, so brave, so out of their minds, that no matter the temperature, grab their detectors and head out to open fields, trudging on, through lung crushing wind that bring the temp down to 0 or below. Bundled so tight, these warriors stand like scarecrows in harvested corn, bean, and wheat fields. Deflecting the odd looks and occasional hateful comments of the local gossiping hens. All for a scrap of history left by generations long ago. I tell you these guys do exist, I know because I am one...

 I was recently asked, at the local watering hole:" Why are you out there, in the freezing temperatures, with the wind blowing 40 mph, with a stick and a shovel ( the stick was a rude reference to my detector),for hours on end, walking a whole section of plowed fields for? I mean what the hell is so valuable or important that you can't find online or in a store? My cattle even have since enough to come out of the weather, ain't you smarter than a cow son?" 

 I reached into my pocket and pulled out a musket ball, an Indian Head penny, and a spent rim fired 4-10 shell. I put them on the bar, and showed him what my hard work had produced for the day. He was not impressed, and chuckled a little as he looked at me as if to say, "Finally, proof your nuts."

 He asked, " Is that it, how much you think that stuff is worth?"

 I answered " Less then five dollars, but it isn't the worth I am after. This musket ball was fired before main street was built. Maybe at a Native American, A Buffalo, A run away slave, or maybe just a small game animal to ease the belly of a starving soldier or merchant." His eyebrows raised a little as I continued, " This Indian Head Penny is dated 1904, it was dropped by the farmer, slave, or laborer in that field. Almost a whole days wages for a hired hand, a little bit of a loss to the farmer, but if it was a slaves, it represented ownership, hope for the future, or maybe a good loaf of bread and some meat for his family, smuggled from the farmers pantry by the house boy."

 He looked at me with a toothpick in his mouth, his hat tilted up and to the side, his elbow on the bar, and his hand partially covering his lips, as if to hide his comments from the others that were standing shoulder to shoulder at the bar. He said, "There were slaves here? I thought they only had slaves in the south, were we a confederate state?"

 I knew I had him, and with a slight grin said," Kansas was very much a part of the civil war. Though Kansas was still a territory, many battles were fought here. In fact, it is believed that the first shots of the war happened in Eastern Kansas, up around Atchison." By this time the bar had turned an ear to what I was saying, the jukebox had stopped playing and the normal mumbling conversations were over run by the excitement in my voice. I continued," Kansas was split on its stance on slavery. Some towns accepted it and others didn't.  The massacre in Lawrence, Ks was about slavery, Lawrence was a pro slavery town with a lot of political pull in the territory. John Brown, an anti slavery advocate, to put it mildly, rode with his posse into Lawrence, dragged the pro slavery politicians into the street and brutally murdered them with an ax handle and sword." a rumbling of ews and ouches moved like a wave through out the bar. "That was just one of John Browns homicidal escapades during the civil war," I exclaimed loudly as if I was in the days when business, local laws, and political debates were all delivered and discussed in the local tavern.( In fact, in my small town, as in most here in Central Kansas, the local bar is still where you go for information about local sales, agricultural news, and small business deals. It isn't uncommon for 50 to 100 head of cattle to be bought or sold over a hand shake and a beer in most small town bars. In fact in one small town the owner and bartender is the local justice of the peace, notary of the public, and fire chief.)

 Everyone was mumbling to each other and wondering how they walked into a history lesson when somebody piped up and asked, " Well how and the hell did they know which town was which, I mean Stafford had that sign that said no "N" allowed, did they all have that?"

 I stood a little straighter to see who was asking, " No, you could tell real simple then as you can now. The towns with a local square in them were pro slavery towns, the towns with a main street were anti slavery." The discussion got louder as the locals gathered back into their small groups to discuss which town was which and where they would have lived. 

 I turned to the old fella still sitting with that look on his face and said,"What was your question again?" 

 He gave me that classic grunt chuckle that ol' boys do when they get bested while trying to poke a little fun and said, "I think you covered it, your welcome to come out and swing your stick in my fields if you want, hell, I might just follow you around to see what you dig up."

 The next week I was in his field, swinging my "stick". With him a few yards away watching me, and figuring out how to swing a "stick" of his own.

WELCOME TO THE PRAIRIE DIGGER

 First, let me introduce myself and the page. My name is Shon, I am a metal detecting junkie who lives in Central Kansas. As I familiarized myself with the many clubs, forums, pages, and etc. on the Internet, I notice there was no one writing about the amazing places, history, and great detecting here in Central Kansas. This page will follow my detecting adventures as I attempt to find "The Mother Load" here in my area. I also hope to educate, encourage, and share the joy of metal detecting with current and future detectorists ( yes I just invented a new word lol). This blog is an independent blog, meaning I am an individual that isn't paid to promote a product. Any mention of a product and its capabilities( or lack there of  ) is my sole opinion and is not meant to influence the reader in any way.Occasionally I will hunt with a professional in this case I will mention their company or product as advertisement. I will do my best to site any resources I use, but some things are best left undisclosed. I will not compromise the privacy of the good people who are polite enough to let me detect their property. This means I will not state the exact location of a dig site or the names of the owners of the land. That being said please don't ask. I welcome all criticisms. I am not a professional writer, historian, or archaeologist. I will and often do make mistakes. All I ask is that any readers response to my blog be respectful. I welcome any help with historical facts, resources, and of course leads to detecting spots. I welcome anyone who wants to discuss detecting. I will accept sincere invitations to detect your property with you, if offered, I would  have questions and want evidence of permission and/or ownership of property, I have to protect myself. I would love to be able to write about all of the area and share this blog with all who wants to come along. I would love to have guest writers, or stories of your hunts and finds. I will not invite anyone to detect with me at my locations unless I am certain of your abilities. This means do not ask me to come detect with me, after communicating with you and developing a good rep-or it is possible I may invite some to join me. Again I have to protect the land owners, they are the most important resource, not only to me but. to the entire hobby.  I will have videos and pictures of finds and areas. I think this will be fun, with your participation, we can finally develop a good network for Central and Western Kansas. Thanks for reading and I hope you will follow me.

Thanks,

Shon