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Hammering the High School

dahut

Active member
I have made it my mission, recently, to pound a certain area of the local high school into submission. I have hunted all over this school during the last 20 years and have seen many changes. In that time, though, I have never really concentrated on this section. I don't know why, to be honest. It is gently sloping ground, under a canopy of pines. It is shady in the summer and protected in the winter - nice conditions.

It is just a five minute drive from my house and, as it turns out, is the oldest section of the school, built originally in 1952.
This means there is the chance for a wayward bit of still undiscovered silver to show up, and I have found 4 Wheat Ear cents so far in this area. One was a 1918-D. Hey, stranger things have happened.

It's becoming my little "go to spot," when nothing much else is going on. Except that it's not really all that little, I might add. It covers an area roughly the size of two football fields!

On top of everything else good about this spot, the chance for a bit of jewelry also exists. So far a small silver earring has surfaced. I just know that, somewhere in this vast expanse, a nice class ring lies in wait.

The only downside is it can only be hunted on weekends and when school is out. This means I could be hitting it for many seasons to come. Oh Sweet Joy!

Here are the gleanings from a two hour hunt, fresh out of the screen wash. This stuff came from one small grid, about 50 feet square:

[attachment 113818 DSCF0019.JPG]

And of course no hunt would be complete without the Nasty Meanies we all contend with:

[attachment 113819 DSCF0020.JPG]
Take note of the shotshells. These are from before the school was erected. Shotshells are my constant companions here in S. Carolina, and I rarely fail to find at least a few of them in any given week.

A couple hours a week are on my schedule from now on, Hammering the High School!
 
A good hunt and some clad.
You did ok and more to come !
 
If I'm to be honest, Joel, I don't feel successful at detecting unless I've got a pouch full of coins.

This bothers some, not the least of which is my detecting pal, Hal. He is a die-hard relic head.
He is not truly happy unless he spends all day digging a few shattered brass bits or an old fork. I fear he will soon give up on me, for a heretic.

As for me, I pays my money and I makes my choices. I proudly echo John B's (Edmonton's) comments: "I love coinshooting!"
 
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