Places

I'm still amazed by the power of a long trip away from home, especially when you come home to bosses, clients, kids, and pets, none of whom were on vacation, all of whom seem to expect you to pick up exactly where you left off. But the memory of the places help us through. At least it helped me this week (so far).

Of course, the first place, one of my favorites, is the Crater of Diamonds. I really recommend the trip - as long as you go in with no expectations whatsoever. I performed all three methods for finding diamonds - surface hunting, digging, and sluicing - and found no sparklers (but much calcite). Yet the fun I had, and the people I met (not to mention the tan, even with the overcast sky) were worth the trip.



The first pic is self-explanatory, but the second gives you an idea of how big (37 acres) yet how intimate it really is. Surface hunting reveals diamonds best after rainstorms. I had high hopes that we'd have a really gully-washer, but all the rain was north of the site. Don't be decieved by the empty-looking field - I went back at the end of the day to take the pictures. When I was there, a bus load of kids from a summer camp rolled in, along with couples and families from all over (California and several points in the surrounding Arkansas towns were the bunch I spoke with). By the way - when you go, make sure to talk to the staff, and not just to bug them with questions about hunting; they are some of the nicest people I've ever met.

I wish I knew what I caught there in the corner of that second picture because it almost obscures the sluicing station in the upper left. While I was there, I had some great conversations with some moms - one was just out for a good time, same as me, and the other was ... somewhat intense as she searched the screens for treasure. I met a couple of the year-round hunters, as well. You can't see them, but off to the left are storage enclosures, chain-link fenced-off areas where the regulars can store their stuff. I asked one of them why he does this every day, and he told me, simply, "it passes the time." In this age of the one-thousand channels to surf, I was oddly delighted with his answer.

The third pic, of course, is the trough in which I used the screens to sluice off dirt and filter off the lighter stuff. It's harder than it looks - the rangers give demos every half-hour until noon, and he made it look like a breeze. It's not. It's dirty, difficult, and nail-ripping, and it usually produces only the smallest diamonds, but it was the later part of the day, and hot, so all that water (even mixed with silt) was worth it. Plus, the kids there with the parents who were searching loved playing in the mud (a hoot all on its own).

The day I went to the park, six diamonds were found, from 2 points (one-fiftieth of a carat) to 66 points (about two-thirds of a carat). One man, searching in the draw (gully, dry creek, whatever you call it) found three of those, including the biggest one. I will go back one day, timed, of course, to coincide with a tropical event (the day before), so that some great 2- or 3-carat lump will shine like a beacon from the hillock beside me.

Or maybe I'll just have the staff point out the most skilled regular and shadow him one day then hunt on my own the next.

By the way, this isn't the only place I loved. Close seconds are: the Comfort Suite in which we stayed in Austin (heaven on a stick after living in a three bedroom trailer with nine night people for nearly a week), and Monroe, Louisana (their "Antique Alley" is still a fabulous antiquing place instead of The Land That eBay Forgot, as are so many nowadays). Thirdseys would have to be eastern Tennessee (gorgeous scenery, great hospitality). But the best, still, is the inside of my own car, the Big Lug's hand on my knee.

Next time, what I found.