If you have done any hiking in rough terrain you are well aware that going down a slope is much more difficult and dangerous than climbing it.

Making matters worse, we could feel the truck moving very slowly down the mountain along with the trees and mud. It was an uncomfortable sinking feeling, as you might guess.

The temptation to enter the dark interiors beckoned to me before the day was finished but I resisted.

I have a slight mental disorder. It causes frequent lapses in common sense, good judgment and bouts of high fever—gold fever.

It all occurred when Gus and I returned to a remote placer gold area where we had previously found really good gold. The problem was that it would take about an hour to walk through the desert to get to it.

Saturday came and it looked to have the makings of a dreary, misty day. Undaunted, I loaded my truck with my sluice, buckets and gear, and headed for the claim.

My right rib cage took the brunt of the blow from the fall, which left me feeling partially paralyzed and in immense pain.