There's (Still) Gold in Them Hills
Eventually Gonzales empties his dry washer of the fine particulates it separated from the gravel. He takes them to his pickup, where he begins processing them the oldfashioned way: with a gold pan using water that he brought with him. With each slosh, the smudge of fine blackiron sand at the pan's bottom grows smaller. Finally he pronounces, with satisfaction, "Gold!" Someone cries ...
![whatsapp](/images/whatsapp.png)