Slices ready for cabbing
I love Candy stripers
These Lakers were some I picked that day in Wisconsin.
Over the years Bonnie and I have had many rockhounding adventures. Some stand out above the rest. This month I would like to tell you the story of our best Lake Superior Agate Hunt Ever; a hunt both amazing and unexpected.
From the name of the agate, people might expect to find Lake Superior Agates only on the beaches of Lake Superior. However, Lakers (as we fondly call them) are found in a broad streak starting at Lake Superior and spreading to the southwest over several states.
Nothing better than a small stash of slices begging to be cabbed.
We were driving through Wisconsin, enroute to Minnesota, perhaps 20 years ago and noticed just outside Turtle Lake, Wisconsin, a road widening project, very extensive, with lots of land being moved with heavy equipment in preparation for a new four lane road. I mentioned to Bonnie that I thought we were in Lake Superior Agate area, but due to all the heavy equipment moving about, I never had a second thought about it UNTIL we saw a flea market just down the road.
I saw a large sign on one of the tents as we went by that said AGATES, so of course we stopped. I hit it off with the dealer, and he and I bonded over our love for Lake Superior Agates. He mentioned he had a friend that lived nearby and loved to show off his agate collection. He called the elderly gentleman (we surmised he was in his 90s), and subsequently we were invited over to his house to see his agate collection.
Unusual coloration and shadow
A wild guy in a wild Laker
We knew we were in the right location as we drove up the driveway and saw a full-sized petrified wood log among many other large rocks laying in the yard.
Unfortunately it has been so long that I do not remember the old guys name, so we call him George. We were welcomed into his house and noticed he had agates everywhere. Beside the four china cabinets filled with Lake Superior Agates, he had agate tables, agate lamps, agate counters, agate covered boxes, agate slices in the window, agates of all sizes; everything Lake Superior Agate–jaw dropping! George hinted that we had not seen anything, and should go look in his basement. He was in a wheelchair and couldn’t go down with us, but our excitement level was already elevated. The basement was another stony story. The walls were lined with shelves holding large Lakers of every sort, plus various other rocks collected from many locales.
Would you sell any of these? is a question any rock lover would ask when confronted with agates so amazing and abundant. His reply was to the negative. I accepted this, but wondered why George would not want sell a few. He clearly had health issues and none of us are going to live forever!
The final discussion involved hunting Lakers. I just love picking the old rockhounds brain. I ask him if he would go looking in the area for Lakers where would he look. He responded: Sonny, I’d look out in that road construction zone.
Ok Bonnie, I am going agate hunting. We rented a motel room nearby, waited until 5pm, and headed out to the construction area. I recall Bonnie opted to stay at the Motel. I found a safe place to park, briefly wondered if we were doing anything illegal. As the cars whizzed by on the old road, we hunted the newly smoothed landscape. I noticed a pile of gravel filled with rocks; and guess what–many of them were Lake Superior Agates. I filled almost a five gallon bucket and found at least a dozen fist sized or better, over a pound each. I actually felt guilty, and wondered where other rockhounds were; why am I the only person hunting here? The rock hunt took perhaps an hour or two to fill the bucket. I like to imagine what we would have gotten if it had been raining!
I think if old George had been able, he would have been there also. I often wonder what happened to him and his agate collection. I will never forget this amazing hunt. I think I still have some of the Lakers we found that day, but they are all mixed with other Laker Buckets.
Every Rockhound has stories like this. Sometime I will tell you about the deluge rain storm in the Keweenaw when Greenstones were actually flowing in little streams down the banks of a mine waste pile. A story for another day,