A very expensive handle

     Towards the end of the fossiling season I received an invitation to meet one of the old timer river diggers and spend a day digging in one of his favorite spots.  I know there's no such thing as a secret spot on the Peace River but having found a genuine "undug" location, I know that some areas are better than others and there's always the chance of finding one little picket that everybody else missed, like a Peace River lottery win.
     I was told that the water at this location was deeper and I would need a shovel with a long handle and since I am very gung ho regarding my hobby I ran to the hardware stores and started checking out shovels.  None of them had a handle any longer than normal BUT I spied a long, strong handle on a Kobalt mortar hoe and figured I could lose the hoe and replace it with a shovel head.

    When I saw the price tag, I hesitated.  $24.95 is quite a chunk of change for a wooden handle.

Sold!!!

     Mike saw the mortar hoe in my truck and when I admitted I had just bought it for the handle he asked, slightly bewildered, "Kobalt? How much did you pay for it? For the handle?!"  But he's a good sport, removing the hoe and welding on a shovel head for me.  Hindsight being 20/20, I probably should have chosen an equally expensive shovel head but I did find out that the Kobalt handle is the one to use so I felt vindicated regarding the cost.

Here's a little helper demonstrating the length of the handle, well-used when this photo was taken.

     And having that extra handle length made a big difference.  I now know that digging in deeper water is not for me;  it's physically exhausting and not as productive since I work so my slower.  Fossil Steve likes to fill a 5 gallon bucket, drilled full of holes, with sand and gravel, bounce the bucket until most of the sand sifts out, then dump the bucket on a screen supported by a stand  on the bank.  This method has lots of merit because you don't keep refilling the areas you are working on with debris, but I'm not strong enough to do this all day long and even filling a floating screen in deeper water takes its toll.

     Currently, it's a moot point.  I was out with Pam, probing a shallow, well-dug area of the river and managed to find a fissure in the rock; potentially very exciting.  I dug and dug, pulling up all manner of odd things including 2 old brown glass whiskey bottles and a 3' long aluminum probe, but not a single fossil.  I continued to pry large stones out of the way until I bent my shovel head!  Then the prying stopped.  I admitted defeat.

     Mike, bless his heart, was doing his best to knock the bent shovel head loose and broke the handle.  Oh well...it's not the most expensive hobby but between $25 shovel handles, lost prescription sunglasses, trolling motor batteries, and gas to get there, it ain't cheap, either!

Part of the next generation

     I know I will never find a complete mammoth tusk or the full skeleton of a sabertooth cat; those days on the Peace River are over.  Do I wish I was hunting the river back then, at least a couple of decades ago?  Part of me wishes for that, but the other part of me realizes that now I would be a couple of decades older than I already am so I'll stick with what I've got.

     I hear many stories about this first generation of fossilers and it sounds like most of them sold off the bulk of their collections, excuses ranging from making money (of course), trading for other items (a Camaro in one instance), or the simple fact that a mastodon leg bone and skull takes up an enormous amount of space in the house.

     I joined the search after the finds got smaller but are still just as beautiful. I never come home with an empty bucket and it will take decades for these little treasures to jam up my house.

     I helped guide a club field trip early this summer.  I ended up only having 3 people to look out for and they pretty much knew what they were doing so I started poking around and found a pocket of gravel under the mud that everyone else was avoiding, understandably because it's very mucky and slick and not much fun to force through a screen but I figured it was my best bet for finding anything in a well-dug area.  My newbie luck held and I uncovered a little mud hole that kept me busy all day, not petering out until right before it was time to go.  Here's a laundry list of my finds:

sloth tooth

deer tooth

fragment of beaver (?) tooth

6 decent megs

3 makos

dolphin ear bones (2 bullas, 1 periodic)

alligator scute, vertebrae, and teeth

glyptodon scute

pieces of deer antler

big joint bone

big chunk of mammoth tooth as well as little fragments

chunk of mastodon tooth

turtle and ray parts inc the big chunk of shell in the photo above

fragments of horse teeth

dozens of shark teeth inc. great hemis and tigers

The Zookeeper powers on! (Albeit, more like a petting zoo with small, common animals)

     Right now the most beautiful photo of all is this:

     I've gone back to checking the river gage every day and this graph shows that it is almost at a manageable depth for me.  Last season I learned to extrapolate the depth shown at this one spot to the areas where I would normally dig but for the most part, when it's down, it's down.  I finished out last season digging in this deeper water but it was even more exhausting than usual, harder to find much, and I ended up losing my prescription sunglasses, although I was surprised it took me that long as I had a bad habit of pushing them up on my head and forgetting about them.

     It will be a while before I can afford new sunglasses but I do have a new battery for the trolling motor and I finally got a little thermos for a good price so I don't have to be jealous anymore while I watch Jack sip steaming hot coffee from his kayak.

     I've been working out and realize I can't slack off on that.  I got lazy last season and was completely shot by June; if I'm not bounding out of bed on fossil day, something's wrong.

     I'm already dreaming of all the amazing little things I will uncover in my second season on the Peace River...

     

A bad day fossiling...

     To co-opt the sentiment on a popular bumper sticker, a bad day fossiling is better than a good day at work.  Word!

     After I cleaned out my amazing fossil honey hole it was back to the newbie world of poking around in the river and looking forlorn while the old guy's announced their treasures, one find at a time.  I no longer received any sympathy, however, as they were all aware of my good fortune and never hesitated to point out that I was entirely able to find my own fossils now.  

     We gathered in the river one weekend and I moved off to the side to dig around a tree stump.  I felt a sharp disappointment that I wasn't finding anything good.  Mentally, I was bitching and moaning and trying to decide whether or not to move to a different spot, etc.  I made myself a little bit miserable doing something I love.  

  It wasn't until that evening, when I was sorting through the day's fossils, that I realized I had actually had a pretty good day.

     I found an assortment of beautiful shark teeth, 3 full glyptodon scutes, a perfect scute from a giant armadillo, tortoise foot pads, turtle scutes, interesting shell casts, etc. I had to step back and rethink how I was going to approach this hobby.  I have yet to suffer a total shutout but it could happen and if it does, I don't want to view that day as a loss.  Every day I spend on the river is an opportunity to not only find some great fossils but to also be active, be outside, and be witness to a unique activity and a side of Florida that relatively few people ever get to experience.

Wear and tear do's and don'ts

     Digging for fossils is a physically demanding sport.  My first year, I dove right in and had to learn some hard lessons, fast!

     #1.  Protect your back at all costs.  Standing in the water can provide some back support but after a strain that took me a couple weeks to fully recover from, I became much more aware of my digging form.

     #2.  Pace yourself.  My instinct is to dig like crazy, all day, until the sun goes down.  I only did that a couple of times before I learned the whole experience was much more enjoyable if I could stay awake during the 2 hour drive home and didn't spend the whole ride suffering from shooting pains in my hamstrings and aching hands barely able to hold the steering wheel.

     #3.  Maintain your health.  I refuse to stop for an official lunch break although gifts of yummy food will occasionally convince me to sit down for an al fresco meal that may look a bit foreign to the uninitiated.

     Frequent bites of food and swigs of water keep my energy level steady during all the exertion; digging in water may provide some support but it also adds an inordinate amount of resistance to every movement.

I'm rarely bothered by insects on the water but the sun is a big concern.  I always apply sunscreen but just noticed these additional instructions:

     I thought the whole point of the spray was not having to rub it in!

#4.  Keep your gear light.  I have been teased for taking too much stuff with me but if I get chilled in the water, it's over.  I have to get out and warm up to regain functionality and that's a big chunk of time wasted.  Depending on the weather, I will load up an extra dry bag with a fleece shirt and leggings and wool socks as well as chemical handwarmers, in case my core temperature drops; I've never been good at retaining body heat.  I was using my 14' kayak with the trolling motor and battery but that weight is more of an issue when loading up at the end of the day.  Still, when a neighbor offered me an 8' kayak for FREE, I snagged it, thinking I could surely paddle an 8' kayak for miles without getting tired.

     This little kayak was small enough I could pull it into my living room to puzzle out how to attach my gear but when I got it on the river, it was hard to steer and sluggish, completely the opposite of my expectations.  So I attached the trolling motor to it.  

     Spectacular failure!  Luckily, no one was around to witness it.  Once again, I felt strong admiration for the well-used 14' Wilderness Systems Tarpon 140:  it's a barge, but it's a sleek, stable barge.  Now the 8' kayak is relegated to the rare friend who wants to come along and instead of making them paddle, I tow them up and down the river.

     This is Mike, on his one and only time accompanying me to the river, being a tremendously good sport as we transported frames for our screens.

     This summer I've been working out in anticipation of my second season on the river.  These guys thought I could move some gravel before.  I'll be a machine this year!

Aimee's first honey hole

     While learning the fossiling ropes last season I had plenty of opportunity to peruse the old guys' amazing finds and try to be a good sport about my lack of amazing finds.  I understand I have to pay my dues but I came to this hobby late in life and I'm also a product of an instant gratification culture and I want fossils...NOW!
     Shortly after the first of the year I met up with Pam to search for a good digging spot.  We started paddling upstream, working the river bottom with our probes all along the way.  Pam expressed interest in stopping at a shallow, well-dug area and scraping the thing layer of debris along the rock bottom.  I know fossils can be found that way and due to the nature of the hobby, a lot of good fossils fall off of shovels on their way from the under the water to our floating screens but I had an intense desire to find a pocket that hadn't been dug before.  Understand, the Peace River has been HEAVILY dug for decades by tens of thousands of people.  An undug spot is a rarity.
     I told Pam I was going to keep paddling and she, being a very good sport, came with me.  We paddled for a long time without finding any gravel at all and when we finally got to a rocky area (obvious signs of other digging, of course) I announced that I was stopping right there coz I wasn't going to paddle another stroke (remember: I'm not a fan of paddling).  Pam started digging about 20 yards upstream from me while I found a layer of rock and gravel and began my own search.

     Almost immediately, I pulled up the first complete horse tooth I had ever found.  After months of listening to the old guys call out, "Horse tooth!" I finally got to do the same!  

     Over the course of a few more visits, I found over 50 horse teeth, many in excellent condition, including a few teeth from extinct 3-toed horses.  That first day, Pam wasn't having any luck so I encouraged her to dig by me...but NOT exactly where I was digging, lol.  She also began to find good fossils although not to the degree that I was.  Every screen yielded treasures and as a beginner, they were all pretty much new to my collection.

     I found my first large chunks of mammoth and mastodon teeth, including an almost complete baby mammoth tooth, as well as beautiful bison, camel and tapir teeth.  My first tooth from a giant ground sloth, a little banged up but a keeper all the same.  Several perfect armor scutes from glyptodons and giant armadillos, turtle fossils galore.  Vertebra, teeth and ear bones from marine mammals and several gator teeth.  A list of list of animal fossils so varied and extensive that Pam was inspired to nickname me the Zookeeper.  

The above photos are the front and back of a horse's wolf tooth.  I didn't even know they had such a thing!

     I took Jack to my location, once again crazy protective of the very small pocket I had found that was the most productive, and he also found great fossils.  He sternly instructed me NOT to tell anyone else where the location was so I had to laugh when went by myself one morning and found a youth group and chaperones, numbering close to 40 people, camped in the immediate vicinity.  Nothing is truly secret on the Peace River.

     After a couple more visits, Jack, a veteran fossiler, wrote to me in an email, "This is the single best Peace River location that I have seen or heard about since I started looking [several] years ago--that includes me and anyone I know.  No spot has produced as much as this one this quickly.  Treasure your digging there--it will be over too soon and finding another like it may take years..."

     And the "gold rush" part of my honey hole did end within a few visits.  I've often imagined a 3-d image of this pocket of treasures, undisturbed for who knows how long, until I happened upon it.

Horse incisor, minus the root.

     Skill and experience factor heavily but sometimes it's just luck.

Go to your happy place...

    This is a photo of me in my happy place.

     Two of my friends wanted to give fossiling a try so I acted as their guide, taking them to a spot where I knew they would at least find some shark teeth.  The rigors of my happy place hadn't really occurred to me until I got them there, in the water...lovely Peace River water.  See the cows drinking on the left of the photo?  They also pee at the same time they are drinking.  A strange habit, I think.  I, of course, pee in the river but I don't drink that water.  What you can't see in this photo is that a cow had died just above the watering hole and the rancher never came and dragged her body away.  I had gotten used to blocking the stench from my mind while digging but my friends had a harder time with it.  This was probably one of their longest days in recent years, shivering in the cold water, digging and sifting gravel, and all the while thinking, "Aimee is bat shit crazy."

      But man, look at my grin!  :-)

Every journey begins with a single bowl of oatmeal

     I was happily digging away in the Peace River one weekend, my mind drifting from thought to thought when I pondered what a journey I was making every week to indulge my hobby.

(antler fragment, horse tooth, unknown tooth, megalodon tooth)

     I once heard a quote by the famous tarpon angler, Stu Apte, that every fish he caught, he caught the night before, meaning he had all his gear prepared when it was time to hit the water.  So I guess I could suggest that my fossil finds are assisted by a lot of prep work.  I have my kayak strapped down and locked onto my ladder rack; screens, shovels, probes, paddles lined out in the bed of my truck; milk crate with wet suit/waders, water bottle, dry bag, etc. in the front seat.  Before I go to bed I set out a bowl with a couple packets of instant oatmeal and grind some coffee beans so that I am ready to hit the road within 30 minutes of the alarm going off at 4:30 am.  The oatmeal is uninspired but mild on the stomach at the early hour and easy to eat during the 2-2.5 hour drive to my launch site.  By the time I get to the river I'm already about 3 hours into my journey.

     I put the kayak in the water, load it, and head off along the river.  The water part of the journey is challenging, even with a trolling motor.  During the dry season the level of the Peace River is so low that I constantly try to steer around sand banks, logs, rocks, etc. that beat up the propeller which is already set as high as possible while still maintaining some contact with the water.  I've perfected my method of leaning to the left to raise the prop even more when there is an obstacle, and leaning to the right to submerge it more when I have a stretch of open water.  What I didn't know when I started fossiling was I would also be dragging my fully loaded kayak, at times, across stretches of sand and river weed.  A distance of a couple miles can take me another hour to traverse and by then I'm feeling like a modern day Indian Jones, but without the poisonous snakes (for the most part) and golden idols.

(an interesting day's fossils, inc modern wild pig jaw, dolphin ear bone, antler fragments, crystalized sea urchin spines, and bullets)

     I don't mind fossiling alone but it can feel remote on days when no one else passes by on the river. 

I was told, from the beginning, to close up shop when the sun touches the tops of the palm trees.  I pushed it one afternoon, waiting until the sun had dropped lower, and wound up loading my kayak in the dark.  Did not like that!  So now, I reverse my journey in the early afternoon.  The paddle/drag/motor back to the truck is not aided as much as I would have hoped by heading downstream but I usually have some cool fossils in my bucket and a sense of contentment from spending the day outside doing something I truly enjoy.  If only there was a way to teleport home instead of repeating the 2 hour drive.

     So, every Friday during the dry season: 115-120 miles traveled over the road, across the water, through the muck and I can't wait for the season to start up again!