In Search of Fire- Part Four...

Now that we'd found what we'd been looking for, I found it difficult to contain myself.  The trail was sandy, and even with my Jeep in four wheel drive, I had to keep us moving.  After snaking around patches of creosote, the trail brought us right next to the rocky overhang that we'd so desperately sought.

Rock-hound Ron surveys the opal deposit.  The temperature was nearly 100 degrees at this point.  I carry six gallons of drinkable water at all times when traveling in the desert.

I felt as though we'd followed the modern equivalent of a treasure map-and that we'd succeeded.  However, my elation was short-lived.

Within a few minutes of examining the rocks with his practiced eye, Ron determined that the opal here was not pure, and that it had none of the reddish colors that are normally associated with opal.  That might explain why there were no fresh tire tracks in the area, except for ours.

Days on which I don't find exactly what I'm looking for in the desert are still enjoyable to me.  The heat, the preternatural quiet, and the fact that I can say that I now know what lies on this spot that is off the "beaten path".

Not the best opal he's ever seen.