Getting humbled, one way or another

Mining for Gold July 12, 2011

Filed under: Pithy attempts at humor,Uncategorized — sarahallen24 @ 8:42 pm
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Confession: when I was little, I was quite the nose picker.

My poor mother.

She had my little brother stealing her dish towels to use as blankeys while he sucked his fingers. And she had a daughter who was always knuckle deep in her nose.

I remember adults chuckling all the time and asking if I was mining for gold. I didn’t really get it. It seemed perfectly logical to me that if there are bats in the cave you should get them out.

When I was around 1st grade, my Mom put me in a fashion show at the Holiday Inn. I vaguely remember changing clothes very fast while being briefed on what to do on the runway. But I clearly remember my Mom saying, “don’t pick your nose.”

So what did I do? I was all the way to the end of the runway before I realized what all the old ladies in the audience were laughing about. Oops. I forgot the main rule.

With “mining” being a fascination from an early age, some friends and I went to Ouray this weekend to take a genuine gold mine tour.

The Bachelor-Syracuse Mine

With my hands safely inside the cart and out of my nose, we rode deep into Gold Hill.

Before the tour began, a very nice lady sitting behind me “apologized in advance” for her toddler. Well she foreshadowed the coming experience perfectly. As soon as we arrived at the cavern where the guide would be giving his schpeel, the toddler got antsy…then whiney…then extremely unhappy. A downright PO’d toddler when you’re deep inside a MOUNTAIN is the perfect recipe for the biggest headache your frontal lobe has ever experienced. It should be the proving ground for Advil and Tylenol. Forget “9 out of 10 doctors approve.” Their new tagline could be “tough enough to cure The Screaming-Child-a-Half mile-Under-the-Earth-With-No-Way-Out headache.”

This is the cavern. You can see a horizontal band of silver in the back wall.

One of my favorite moments on the tour: The guide was a real champ. He pretended that there was nothing out of the ordinary and yelled the mine’s history over the screaming and crying. Just as he explained that the piece of equipment next to him cranked out 120 decibels…almost as if on cue…the toddler let out an ear piercing screech that caused everyone to involuntarily wince and pull their hard hats over their ears. I guess we deserved a good 120 decibel demonstration.

Moral of the story: don’t bring a toddler into a mine. You’ll waste your $17 tour fee…and everyone else’s.

Also…these old mines are awesome. Take a tour if you have a chance, it’s good to be interested in history. And who knows, maybe all that mining I did as a child led the way to a healthy interest. Ok, it’s a stretch.


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