Rocks, Gold Mines, and Desert Kayaking

 So here I am at the Wickenburg Gem and Mineral Show, in, of course, Wickenburg- oh yeah, that would be Arizona.  I packed up everything from Quartzsite yesterday, except my booth sign, left a message on the front of my fence for my customers, "In Wickenburg this weekend for the Rock and Gem Show,  will re-open Tuesday", and headed almost 100 miles East to Wickenburg. Al can direct traffic to the website RocksInMyHead.biz with the flyers, and take messages if anyone is looking for me.  Of course, if they are looking for me, it's because they didn't read the sign that tells them that I am in Wickenburg for the weekend- and I'm sure Al won't hesitate to tell them that.   When he is closed, I do the same for him, because his customers don't usually read the sign he puts up, either.

I've been here before- did a show here last year-so I am expecting a busy weekend.  Anyway, there will be more going on here this weekend than there would be in Quartzsite at this time of the season.   This afternoon, during the 3 hours I was setting up, about 30 customers came by wanting to know if the show was open yet.  Hopefully, that is an indicator of how tomorrow and Sunday will go.   Although maybe those people won't even come back.  They seemed aggravated that none of the vendors who were setting up at that time were open for business yet.  Oh, well.  Of course, if they had flashed a handful of cash, I would have been pretty willing to open up early for them.

For rockhounds, gold bugs, and outdoors people alike, Wickenburg is a great destination.  There are several very cool rockhounding sites in this area. Along highway 60 near Brenda there is a pullout for a jasper site in the Bear Hills.   I will have some jasper from this location at the show this weekend.  Choice pieces are deep reds with greens and some browns and yellows mixed in.  It's very good quality for polishing, if you do the work to get the best material.  There are also beautiful agates and jaspers from the Plomosa Mountains north of Brenda, and a site near Brenda where gorgeous "patriotic" agates can be found.  Amazing dendritic agates and some fossilized palm wood has been found near Wengen.   For more information about these sites, check out "Rockhounding Arizona"  by Mr. Gerry Blair.  I met him at the Lake Havasu City Rock and Gem Show earlier this month.   Here is a link to Mr. Blair's book:  Rockhounding Arizona .    I also currently have this book in stock at my booth and on the website.

For the gold bugs out there, Wickenburg is also famous for the "Vulture Mine".   The Vulture Mine was the largest gold producing mine in Arizona.  It was discovered in 1863 by Henry Wickenburg, and in its day produced more than 200 million dollars worth of gold.  A population of almost 5000 inhabited Vulture City during the boom time of this mine.  


The Vulture Mine is also well known for its employee "perks" - a "Profit Sharing" plan and a practice called Highgrading.   Highgrading was a sort of systematic thievery from the mine- workers would pick choice nuggets out of the loads they were hauling and keep them for themselves.  The "Profit Sharing" plan was actually more of a "Profit Stealing" plan, where miners who were employed to work the mine during the day became "self-employed" by night.   They mined their own personal gold from the same mine that they worked in during the day- the ultimate in "Moonlighting".  It was said by the Vulture Mine miners that working for the Vulture Mine for 3 months would produce a year's worth of personal gold.   For these reasons, no one really knows exactly  how much gold was produced by the Vulture Mine.  The recorded figure of $200 million is really only an estimate, that doesn't take into account all of the "lost" - or shall we say "personally acquired"- gold. 

The mine was closed in 1942, and almost overnight the town became a ghost town- but the development of Arizona had already been sparked, and Phoenix was born.  The closed Vulture Mine eventually became the property of the Vulture Mine Preservation and Restoration Association, and tours were given, well, sold, to the public.   Just recently the mine has been purchased by Vulture Peak Gold, who plans on resuming mining operations at Vulture.   I wonder if they will have a "Profit Sharing" plan again?  Hmmm...If they do, sign me up for a few months.  


For more photos of the Vulture Mine click this link  Vulture Mine Photos on Facebook   

And last, but not least, for the outdoor enthusiast - there is kayaking.  Yes, kayaking in the desert.  There are great boating locations in several directions from Wickenburg.   To the north, there is the lake-rich area of Prescott and Prescott National Forest.   To the west lies Alamo Lake.  Alamo Lake is a rockhounding desert kayaker's paradise.  It is a large lake that has been created by the damning of the Bill Williams River.  The drive to Alamo Lake is a scenic journey through beautiful desert landscapes, some red rock peaks in the distance, really cool canyons, and incredible views.   For as far as the eye can see in any direction, there is desert- until all of sudden, a deep blue patch appears on the horizon.   This is Alamo Lake- a large, beautiful body of water surrounded by desert and colorful mountains.  A rockhounding, prospecting, desert-loving, kayaker's dream. There are plenty of places to get out of your boat and hike off into the desert to go rockhounding.  The mining and prospecting sites are on the north side of Alamo Lake, the other side from where you launch, so be prepared to paddle back with extra weight stowed in your boat.  

 Pick a quiet cove to land, and eat lunch there.  That way you can then fill up the food space with rocks for the trip back.  The only problem with that is that the rocks will weigh more than your food.

Just don't replace the water space with rocks- this is the desert, you know.  You will need your water.  Of course, if you think about it, you're paddling, so you are surrounded by water.   So, in reality you could take a water filter, and then you could take less water and have more room for rocks.  Either way, the rocks will weigh more, so be prepared for the long paddle back  with all the rocks in your boat.   Of course, if you are also a hiker, you are probably used to hiking back with all the rocks in your pack.  From personal experience, paddling with rocks is slightly easier than hiking with rocks.  But that's just my humble opinion.

So, anyway, whether you like rocks, gold mines, or paddling, Wickenburg is a great place to spend the weekend.  Of course, I won't get to do any of these things this time around, because my entire time will be spent here, selling my rocks at the Rock Show.   But I have done that stuff here before, and I will get to do that stuff here again- probably at the end of the season.   After everything from my booth in Quartzsite is packed up, it will be time to head off to explore again.   Then play time will begin - the rockhounding, the prospecting, the hiking, the climbing, and the paddling.  Maybe I'll even get to cross two major things off my list this spring- Skydiving and hiking to Havasu  Falls.

But for now, I need to spend my days selling rocks. Come see me at my booth at the Wickenburg Rock Show.  My booth is right at the entrance walkway, under that big sign that says "Wickenburg Gem and Mineral Show", you know the one in the picture at the top of this blog post.  Or you can come see me back in Quartzsite in Rice Ranch, at A37.  And come buy some rocks.  I have lots- cool ones, too.  Buy a bunch.  Because, after all, when play time comes, I will need the room for all the new rocks.

            

HAPPY TURKEY DAY from SUNNY QUARTZSITE!

Wishing everyone a Happy Thanksgiving from Rocks In My Head!  Today I am thankful that there are a bunch of turkey cartoons that I can fill up my blog page with so I don't have to think of something to write!!

 So- from Rocks In My Head at Rice Ranch A37 in Quartzsite, AZ - the Rock Capitol of the World- here's some funnies to get your Turkey Day started!

Stories, Stories, and More Stories

I was taught that selling is the most important part of business.   I have learned, over time, that the best way to sell is through stories.  So I tell stories about my rocks, my gold, my products, my cabs, whatever I happen to be talking to someone about.  But recently I have noticed that selling is also about listening to other people's stories.  And boy have I heard some doozies this week.   I have heard stories about rocks, stories about gold, stories about cowboys and indians, stories about prospectors and old mines, and stories about sharks (yeah, go figure, in the desert, stories about sharks).

Yesterday I received a box of core samples from the Homestake Mine in South Dakota.  They are beautiful.  Some of them sparkle with visible gold- really prize pieces, and I wonder now that I have them, if I want to sell them.  But even better than the core samples are the stories that came about because of them.   People love to tell stories.  This week, for some of them, I really needed to break out the hip waders- because the ____ was really beginning to pile deep.

Gold, mining, and prospecting seem to attract the whoppers, as far as storytelling goes.  Now I expect to hear the ones about the 5 ounce nugget that got found and then lost again, or found and given away "way back when...when gold was still $100 an ounce".  Or about the guy who found a huge nugget out in a wash, but doesn't know where it is anymore, or it was stolen, or some other reason why it isn't in his possession.  Or about the guy whose claim was producing 10 ounce nuggets and then the government took it away. Or the guy who used to do alot of prospecting but doesn't anymore because he has found "too much" gold and wants to give other people a chance to find some.  There was even the guy from Oregon who "found gold nuggets in a drawer one time, and I thought they were rocks so I threw them out".  (Gee, I'd like to go through his trash).

Yesterday, when I was looking through my new box of Homestake Core Samples, of course, I was inundated with stories about the Homestake Mine.  "My grandfather's friend's nephew knew someone who worked there..."  "My friends' father found hundreds of nuggets laying on the ground around the Homestake Mine right after it was shut down."   Some are believable, some are not.  It makes you wonder where the stories come from, and if the people who tell them actually believe them.

But my favorites are the ones that speak of things as if they are fact, when in actuality they are just someone's made up perception.  Those are the ones that you just have to nip in the bud because they are so off-base you can't stand to listen to them anymore.  Yesterday, a man told me that the Homestake Mine was shut down by the government because the government decided that they didn't need any more gold since Fort Knox was already full.    I stopped what I was doing, looked at him in awe, and said, "Really?"  "Where did you hear that?  Because that's not what I learned when I visited the Homestake Mine in Lead, SD this past summer".    He looked surprised and said, "Oh, you mean you have actually been there?" "Yeah", I said, "I have actually been there- been to the mine, seen all the artifacts in the visitor center and museum, watched the video, and toured the parts you could tour. It's a really interesting place and the video in the visitor center is really informative."  He said, "Well, anyway, those samples are really cool," and then he left, probably in search of someone who really didn't have a clue about the Homestake Mine to tell his ridiculous story to.  (For a great book about the Homestake Mine, "Homestake, The Centennial History of America's Greatest Goldmine", click this link http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0006XJXHW/?tag=roinmyhe-20.)

And then there are the pathetic ones. There was the guy who was looking for crystals in Crystal Hill, where hundreds of people every winter go to hunt for crystals, and discovered a mine shaft with gold in it- but no one has ever heard of this mine before even though it is only 11 miles out of town.   "And then what did you do", I asked. "I just left it alone because I didn't want anyone else to find out about it."  "You've never been back there to it to go get some of the gold?"  "Well, no, I don't have a car anymore, and I don't have time, and I don't want the government to find out, and...blah, blah, blah..."  Seriously?  You found an abandoned gold mine just outside town and didn't even go back to it?  And no one else in Quartzsite has ever even heard of it?  Really?

And then there was the guy who was wandering around in the desert one day and found a huge pile of Sleeping Beauty turquoise on the ground, not near Globe, where the Sleeping Beauty Mine is, but out on BLM land near Quartzsite.   Hmmm...  Funny how I always have to go to a specific site where a specific rock is found to find that specific rock.  "What did you do with it?  I'd love to see it," I said.   "Well...I didn't have a way to carry it back, and it was hot, and it was getting dark, and then I couldn't get back there until the next month, and then I couldn't remember where it was anymore."   "So you didn't keep any of it?"  "Well...no."   Go figure.

Oh, yeah, and then there was the one who was walking around with the sparkly 5 pound rock the size of a grapefruit, polishing it with a wire brush, and telling everyone it was gold.  He came into my booth on Tuesday and asked me if I would buy it from him.  I said, wow, that's a beautiful, shiny rock with lots of pyrite on it, but no thanks, I'm not looking to buy any pyrite right now.   He said, "It's not pyrite- it's gold- I'll give you a great price on it".  Hah.  I'm sure you will, I thought.  He proceeded to tell me how he had been out walking in a wash near town and he found this huge rock covered in gold just sitting there on the ground.  "Really?"  I said, "In the middle of Quartzsite, in the middle of the day?  And you are just walking around with it like that in your hand showing it to everyone?".

The stories never cease to amaze me.  Just when I think I have heard the doozie of all doozies, then someone else comes along with one to top that one.  And people wonder why I don't own a television.  I have way better entertainment listening to all the stories than anything I could watch on TV.   Al, whose business is next door to mine, and I have developed a ritual at the end of each day.  A ritual of swapping stories about each other's stories.  It seems almost as if the same people go from booth to booth and tell the same story, but change it up to match the merchandise- the same lost huge gold nugget story, becomes the lost antique gun story.  "My grandfather's nephew's friend was in WW1 and had a gun like that.  A real beautiful gun, worth a whole lot of money.  I found it in a closet one day, but now I have no idea where it is...oh, and I almost had something like that once, too,...oh, and like that, too."

So tommorrow I will be getting in some Lake Superior Agates and some more core samples, this time from the Dewey mine in Idaho.  And there is no need for me to try to sell them.  They will sell themselves, no doubt to people who will come in to tell me more stories.  This time the stories will be about Idaho, and Lake Superior.  But in reality, they will be the same old stories, just like all the fishing and hunting stories about the big one that got away, only twisted around and molded to fit rockhounding and prospecting situations.  "I remember that 150 pound fish I almost caught, but it broke the line...biggest fish I've ever seen...I remember that 8 point buck that I almost shot... biggest buck I've ever seen, ...I remember that 10 ounce gold nugget I almost got, but it fell out of my pan back into the stream...biggest nugget I've ever seen..."

And the stories go on, and on.  Tommorrow the entertainment begins again.  And I will once again be convinced that I have no need to pay $100 a month for satellite TV to entertain me.  I have an entire town full of people that are very eager to come and do that.  I will be open at 9:30 am.  First program of the day?  Only tomorrow will tell, but I'm sure it will be a good one.
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WANT MORE ABOUT THE BLACK HILLS OF SOUTH DAKOTA?


HERE ARE ROCKS IN MY HEAD'S RECOMMENDATIONS:

The Real Deadwood: True Life Histories of Will Bill Hickock, Calamity Jane, Outlaw Towns, and Other Characters of the Lawless West    http://www.amazon.com/dp/1596090316/?tag=roinmyhe-20

       

Deadwood: 

       Stories of the Black Hills   http://www.amazon.com/dp/1596912391/?tag=roinmyhe-20

Gold Rush: 

The Black Hills Story

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/0962262196/?tag=roinmyhe-20

Deadwood: 

Music From HBO Original Series [Soundtrack]

 http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00076YPUI/?tag=roinmyhe-20

Opportunity, and the Lack Thereof

Some people get excited about meeting celebrities.  Understandably so.  They are famous, and some of them have done some incredible things with their lives.  I have met many celebrities.  I have done many things for a living over the course of my lifetime, and some of those things have brought me into contact with celebrities.  Some of them were very nice and very humble.  A few of them were absolute jerks.  But all in all, most of them were just regular people that happened to be famous, and did not impress me very much.  It was nice to meet them in person, and it makes for a good story, but that was all.

Today, however, I met someone who, in my life at least, would be considered a celebrity.  An elderly gentlemen walked up to me with a book, "Rockhounding Arizona", from my table in his hand and said to me, "Young lady would you believe me if I told you I wrote this book?"  To which I replied, rather jokingly, "I don't know, should I believe you?"  There was a lady with him who sensed my skepticism, and nodded approvingly.  She smiled and said, "Yes, dear, he did write that book."  The man said, "Yes, I am Gerry Blair. See", he said, pointing to the author's name on the cover, "I wrote this book."  I said, "Wow, it's an honor to meet you, sir.  Thank you."    

Now the bad part about this whole thing is that it was extremely busy today at the Lake Havasu City Gem and Mineral Show.  At the time Mr. Blair came to my booth, I was swamped with people.  Now, as a show vendor, the one thing that you always want to be is mobbed with people in your booth.  So normally this would not be a bad thing- but at this particular time, I wished I could have spent much more time with Mr. Blair.  Imagine the stories this man must have.  Think of the experiences he has had in his lifetime of collecting rocks.  I wished I could have picked his brain or sat around a campfire tonight and listened to him talk about rocks and rockhounding- the places he had been, the things he had done, stuff he had found.   Adventures and misadventures.  I wish I had been able to spend even just a little bit more time getting to know him.     But I had customers, and it seemed like at that particular time, just when I was meeting Gerry Blair, people were coming out of the woodwork to look at stuff in my booth.  A great problem to have at any other moment in my life- except this particular one.

I got to talk with Mr. Blair for a very short time.  He very graciously autographed the only copy of "Rockhounding Arizona" that I had left, and agreed to take a photograph with me.  Then I politely, and reluctantly, excused myself.  I shook his hand and when I turned toward my customers he disappeared into the crowd.  For the next several hours, I barely thought about him because I was so busy.  But later in the day, when it slowed down, I realized how great an opportunity I had today.  I got to meet a great man- at least in the field of rockhounding anyway.  And then I felt sad.  Sad that I was so busy I could not take more of an opportunity to sit down with this man and enjoy his company for a while.

I thought about kids and how they look up to their teachers.  Many times the teachers go their entire lives without realizing how much they are appreciated and admired by their students.  Most of the time the students just go on and never get a chance to tell the teacher thank you or a story about how something that teacher taught them had made a difference in their life.  I have been a teacher before.  I have taught hundreds of kids over the course of the years, since I taught my first jewelry making class in 2001.   I often wonder what and how those kids are doing now, and if I made an impact in their lives at all.

This was like meeting a great teacher.   After all I am a rockhound, and in "Rockhounding Arizona", Mr. Blair teaches pretty much everything there is to know about rockhounding in this state, at least in my humble opinion anyway.  It was a great honor to meet him.  I wonder if he realizes how much the younger generation of rockhounds appreciates and admires the generation that has gone before us and taught us alot of what we know.  I hope someday I get another opportunity to meet Mr. Blair.  And I hope, if I do, it is under circumstances which allow me to really enjoy his company and get to know him personally. I would like to be able to thank him and tell him how much he and the veteran rockhounds like him are appreciated and respected. (Here's the link for "Rockhounding Arizona" by Mr. Blair http://www.amazon.com/dp/0762744499/?tag=roinmyhe-20)

So today was a day I will remember all my life.  The drive here yesterday was very pretty.  The people in the Lake Havasu Gem and Mineral Society have treated us vendors like kings and queens.  We have been fed well and catered to.  There are several volunteers that go around to the vendor booths to serve us food, water, and coffee.  One lady even watched my booth for me today so I could go to the restroom. The show staff and the Gem and Mineral Society members that host the show went all out for us to make this show fabulous.  And that in itself would be memorable.  But today I met Mr. Gerry Blair.  And even if every other show I do from now on is as great as this one has been, nothing will be able to top that.  At least not anything I can think of right now, anyway.
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MORE RECOMMENDATIONS FROM ROCKS IN MY HEAD:

Lake Havasu City (AZ) (Images of America)

 http://www.amazon.com/dp/0738530123/?tag=roinmyhe-20

Guide to Arizona Backroads & 4-Wheel Drive Trails 

http://www.amazon.com/dp/0966497635/?tag=roinmyhe-20

Backroads of Arizona: Your Guide to Arizona's Most Scenic 

Backroad Adventures (Backroads of ...) [Kindle Edition]  

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003JPW0JW/?tag=roinmyhe-20

Decisions, Decisions, and More Decisions

My head hurts today.  My entire day has been full of decisions.  For one, I am moving.  I mean I am changing booth spaces for the season.  But then there are the advertising decisions, and the web page decisions.  And so I spent all day making decisions.  It would be different if these were simple "yes" or "no" decisions- but they are not, and that is why my head hurts.  It's not that I typically have difficulty making decisions.  I don't.  I am a researcher and an analyzer.  I definately do my homework, and then when I make a decision I am usually pretty confident that it is a good one.  It isn't always, but at least I am confident it is until I find out otherwise.

But today brought an onslaught of decisions about things which are outside my realm of confidence.  Part of me wants to bag this whole idea, pack it all up and go out and live in the desert for the winter.  The other part of me wants to build a successful business.  That's the part that gave me the headache today, because I am taking the all or nothing approach to this.  I am either going to go all out and do it the right way, or I am not going to do it at all.  At least I will know at the end of the season, regardless of what happens, that I gave it everything I've got.  Besides, I've always been that way.  I either do something or I don't do something- but I don't do anything just halfway.  I do due diligence, I make a decision, and then I stick to it.

I'm like that in my personal life, too.  I either like a person or thing, or I don't like a person or thing.  Sometimes I will change my mind if the situation warrants it- and I will be straightforward about my change of mindset. There have been people that I have liked initially, and then as I got to know them better, I realized that I didn't like them very much at all, and people who initially rubbed me the wrong way, and then eventually we became good friends.  But I'm not wishy-washy or two-faced, pretending to someone's face to like them and then talking trash behind their back.  I am rather blunt about how I feel about a person or situation- not rude usually, but not wishy-washy either.  Steadfast is a good word for it.  But at least people know where they stand with me.  Maybe I'm old-fashioned that way, because it seems like the trend today is to be more namby-pamby and two-faced. Given the choice between the two, I would rather be considered old-fashioned.

But today, my brain is overloaded with decisions, and I can't say with confidence that the ones I made are the right ones.  So I am at the mercy of wondering, and even second-guessing myself.  Is the money I spent on a website and an ad in the paper going to be worth it?  What about the higher rent?  ROI is really important to me right now.  And this whole website thing.  I'm still wondering about that.  The whole process of deciding which company to use was, in itself, very stressful- and now that I have chosen one and purchased a website building product, I am faced with myriad decisions about the building process itself.  What photos, what layout, what colors, what fonts?    I am not a design professional.  I like to be out in the wilderness and I like to cut rocks.  But I also have limited funds so hiring someone to build the site for me is not within the budget at the moment.

Fortunately, the ad for the paper was a little easier, thanks to my friend who is the publisher.  She was gracious enough to let me bring over a flyer and a business card so she could help me figure out how to turn them into a newspaper ad.  That is what she does for a living, thank goodness.  Of course, I'm sure she wouldn't be happy spending her days digging and cutting rocks.  We all have our strong points.  I'm glad advertising and design is one of hers.  I want to get this advertising and design stuff done so I can go back to cutting rocks.

And then there is the decision to move into a different booth space.  It is said in business that location is everything.   Location, location, location.  Does McDonald's make the best hamburgers?  No way- but they own the real estate at the prime intersections all over the world so they have the best locations for the hamburgers they make.   So my move today was all about location.  I moved up to "A" row, a front row on the street - as opposed to "C" row with a back corner and RV park frontage.   I cannot be seen from the main road like I could before, but I am located in the busiest part of this area of town as far as foot traffic goes.   So here I sit, having signed the new contract and upped my rent by about $300.00 dollars, and my brain is on tilt from agonizing over this decision all day. These past 10 days the money has gone out way faster than it has come in.

But while location is important, so is the neighborhood. And my decision to move was influenced by that as well. Not that there is anything wrong with the vendors around me, but this end is rather sparse.  There are many non-rented spaces even this close to the start of the season.  It is like owning a rental house in a neighborhood full of unoccupied buildings, or an office building on a block full of vacant warehouses.   I have wondered for the past ten days if people would walk down this row at all after seeing all the empty spaces between them and me.  People tend to gravitate toward places where there are other people, and avoid those places which seem less busy.

And then there is the choice between facing the main highway into town or having frontage on a small local road that gets alot of foot traffic.  After all, how many people can make a decision about buying a piece of jewelry, a gold nugget, or some lapidary equipment while driving past a sign at 50 miles per hour.   I would guess not many.  While my sign currently faces out toward the highway, I am betting that people actually stopping to look might be more conducive to sales.  And the spaces on either side of me and across the street are rented with established businesses that generate alot of traffic. To me it seems like a better return on ROI in the long run - at least that's the point anyway..

And then there is the fact of the economy.  Most people would say that this economy is not the time to go all out and try to establish a new business.  But then there are also people who would say this is a time of opportunity for those who dare to go after it.  I have always subscribed to the philosophy of  "observe the masses and do the opposite".  I may not have had the opportunity to move up to the front row if the economy wasn't like it is and other vendors weren't cancelling their reservations for the season.   And now I can make a deposit for next year and hold my spot if I want to- a spot that under different circumstances may never have been available.  I waited for six years to have a good spot at Jazz Fest in New Orleans- and I never got one.  Someone had to die before you got their spot.

But trying times always weed out the masses and leave the strong, the lean and mean, the easily adaptable intact.  A little scarred and bleeding, maybe, but intact.  Well, I have come through trying times before.  I have come out on the other side scarred and bleeding, but still standing, and all the stronger and wiser.  So, I am telling myself this is no different than any of those other times.

And so my brain is swimming from all the decisions I had to make today.  But the good thing is, with the exception of the design of the website, they are made.  There is no going back now.  The contracts have been signed, the money has been spent, the inventory has been purchased.  What will happen, will happen.  At least I can say I have hedged my bets.  I gave it my best shot.  I have done everything I can do and gone all out to start this season off well.  And I will find out in March if any of these decisions, decisions, and more decision were good ones.  Until then, all I can do is enjoy every day, turn on my saw and my polishing wheel, and cut rocks.

Rocks, Jerks, and Delayed Gratification

Today marks my 4th day of being OPEN here in Quartzsite- at least technically.  My online business was open even when I was on the road, and the day I got here I put out some easily accessible stock on a table just so it looked like I was a vendor- but as far as my tables and displays being fully set up and stocked, and my booth looking like some semblance of a business,  today was the 4th day I was open.

Business is slowly picking up.  The snowbirds are starting to arrive.  People are beginning to get bored and come out to the vending areas and wander around.  Some are buying, some come to find out what there is to buy, some are just trying to figure out who is here and open, and some just want to get away from their "RV-mates" and come chit-chat about stuff.

Now that I am technically open, I have been spending my days organizing and pricing all my new and exciting merchandise, and designing my displays to showcase new product lines.  It is alot of detail stuff, but stuff that I can get done while open.  It keeps me busy and active, and available for people because they see me bustling around and don't feel like they are intruding if they engage me in conversation.  Right now I am the only "Rock Shop" open, so I can build a repoire with people before any of the other rock vendors show up.

More notably, though, today was the day I got to cut rocks again.   I completed all the little detail stuff I needed to do in my booth, and my reward was I got to cut rocks again.  I have been looking at my studio space all week, as I have labored to create a great "Rock Shop" in my 40x40 vending space.  I have rummaged through boxes of rocks, many of which I have dug or collected myself, and envisioned a particular specimen on the saw revealing its insides to me for the first time.  Or imagined in my head what that rock would look like polished and made into a beautiful piece of jewelry.  And I practiced delayed gratification for a little while longer.

This summer was full of delayed gratification.   The rock saw sat idle, while I spent free time at rockhounding sites.  I gave up days of paddling, hiking, and climbing to collect rocks and build my inventory in preparation for the winter season.   On the road there was more delayed gratification because the saw and the polishing wheel were inaccessible in the trailer, stashed behind boxes of rocks, and buried beneath mounds of stock and merchandise.  Once in my vendor space, I unloaded the trailer to find the rock saw and the polishing wheel waiting there patiently.  Before I began to set up my booth, I set up my studio space- two tables with all my tools, my saw, my rock tumbler, my lapidary wheel, and lots half-finished cabs- and there they sat while I spent the last week getting open.

But today, it was all worth it.  I opened up a bin and took out a Fairburn Agate.   One that I collected this summer in South Dakota.  It had a rough tumble polish on it.  That was my consolation this summer, letting my tumbler do some of the work while my schedule was insanely crazy.  I looked at it for awhile.   It had been two months since I had looked at this rock.  I'd forgotten how beautiful it was.  Then I remembered the peacefulness of the badlands where I had collected it.  It was mid-summer.  The birds were singing, flowers were still blooming on the prairie, and there was a gentle breeze whispering through the grasses.  I turned on my lapidary wheel, and started polishing, lost in my thoughts.

People came and went, I stopped acknowledge them and occasionally to chit chat, and then I would resume.   Something amazing was taking shape in my hands and I was consumed by its beauty.  Slowly, a smooth, shiny face was emerging, the colors and patterns becoming more vivid now.  I had been looking forward to this for the past few months, and it was worth it.

Then a man came at about three o'clock.  This man was not the typical customer of a Rice Ranch vendor, or of any outdoor rock show vendor, for that matter.  He was wearing a royal blue, button down shirt, pressed and starched, dress pants, and enough cologne to scare away any coyote within 50 miles of Quartzsite.  He was in  his late 40's or so. He seemed out of place here in the dusty, windy desert- more like he should be a buyer at a glittery wholesale show for Macy's.  He spent about 30 seconds looking around my booth, then turned to me working at my studio table and said, " Hey, do you have any cabs done?"  A good question.  I only have a few out at the moment, and they are rather inconspicuous among the other stuff in the cases.  I stopped, still holding the stone in my hand, got up, and went over to the case where the finished cabs were so I could show him what I had.

He looked at the cabs I showed him for all of about 20 seconds and then proceeded to talk at me about how he sold jewelry and wanted to buy a bunch of stuff wholesale for his business- not talk to me, but rather hard sell AT me, like I was a nobody sitting here in the desert, with no clue about business,  polishing a rock because I had nothing better to do.  "I'll give you $70.00 for all of your jewelry and cabs", he smirked.  I just stared at him.  It's a good thing it's the beginning of the season and the head to mouth filter is still working well.  This was definately one of the times when I should NOT say what I'm thinking.  Instead, I said, " I'm sorry.  I'm not interested in selling any inventory at wholesale right now.  But you could leave me a card and if I am interested at the end of the season, I might call you."

He got adamant and continued his hard sell spiel about how he makes artists rich when he buys their stuff and then takes it to his business to sell.  Again he had that air about him as though he thought I was just some stupid starving artist sitting here in the desert desperate for money, trying to polish a rock or two so I could eat.  Then he said the worst thing in the world he could have said to me, especially on this day, when I finally got to cut rocks after looking forward to it for the past two months.  He said, "Well you could be making millions of dollars, sitting on a beach in Mexico.  I could make you rich and you would never have to cut a rock again."

That was enough for me.  I laughed at him, put my hand up in his face and said, "Stop.  You will stop speaking now. This is MY business you are standing in, and  it is MY turn to speak."  I took him over to the stack of boxes of rough Utah Wonderstone I had just collected last week, pointed to it and said, "I am not interested in selling any of my cabs to you at wholesale.  The only thing I would sell you at wholesale is a box of these rocks.  I do not cut rocks because I have to.  I cut rocks because I want to.  I have been to Mexico 4 times, as well as beaches in the Mediterranean, Greek Islands, and the Carribbean Islands, and I can go again if I want to.  So here's the deal... I dug these rocks.  I cut and polish these rocks.   I do not know how selling my inventory to you at wholesale instead of  selling it to other people at retail will make me rich.   But I do know that even if I were making millions of dollars I would still cut rocks.   I am here cutting rocks because I love to cut rocks.   I cut rocks because I WANT to, not because I have to.  Now, excuse me.   I have a rock to cut."

He looked at me like I was some crazy woman, and rightfully so.  I probably did have a rather crazed look in my eyes at that particular moment.  I was rather offended at his adamacy and presumptiveness, and at his offer of a mere $70.00 for an entire inventory of my handmade work.  It was like he had just slapped me in the face.  He started backing up toward his car, yelling at me as he went.   "I make people rich!"  he screeched.   It was interesting how he seemed afraid to turn his back to me as he walked away.  Maybe he was afraid some sort of karma involving backstabbing was going to get him.

And so it's official now, I am open.  Today I had my first jerk of the season.  I'm sure there will be more.

I went back to my polishing wheel and continued to polish my beautiful Fairburn Agate.    I glared at him until he drove away.  "I make people rich!"  his voice echoed in my head.   I smiled at my now shiny rock.  "My life is already rich",  I said to myself.  And it is.  I have spent the past several months traveling to beautiful places and collecting rocks, fossils, and other treasures from nature.  I am sitting here in the desert cutting and polishing rocks.  I am creating beautiful things that people are willing to pay me decent money for.  I have friends here and I am doing what I want to do.  There are many people on this planet who are rich and miserable.  They have alot of money but they are not doing what they love to do.  They sold themselves out to become rich.  I am not interested in selling out to every sleazebag snotty jerk who comes my way just to make a quick buck.

Besides, richness is relative.  My life is rich.  My experiences are rich. My existence on this planet is rich. My relationships are rich.  My spirituality is rich.  I can go out into the grasslands, or the badlands, or the forest and experience the richness of nature.  I can see the beauty in a piece of stone.  I can work it with my hands and tools and feel the richness of its texture, and revel in the richness of the accomplishment.  I can enjoy the richness of the design when I shape it into a piece of jewelry. And the richness of pleasure when a customer falls in love with it and buys it.

I will be perfectly happy to be rich.  But only if it is not at the expense of who I am and what I love to do. Only if it enriches my life in more realms than just money.  And only if it comes in a way that morally and personally I am proud of.   There are people who are rich, happy, morally sound and doing what they love.  If I become one of them, great.   Until then, I will relish in the fact that today, after months of anticipation and delayed gratification, finally, I got to cut and polish some rocks.

Opening Day: (Mis)Adventures in Arizona and Elsewhere.

Today my sign went up.  I guess that means it's official.  It's too late to turn tail and run.  I'm open.

It's a wierd feeling.  This is not my first rodeo, that's for sure, but I still get the same feeling on every opening day even though I've been doing this all my life.  Granted not necessarily right here, in Quartzsite, but somewhere, at least.  That daring adventurous life.  Facing the doubts and fears, and then relishing in the thrill of the accomplishment.

Years ago I used to go to New Orleans for the winter.  Artists, jewelers and other entrepreneurial types would set up on Jackson square or get a booth at the French Market.  Once you got there, you were there for the season- the Sugarbowl was in January, then two weeks of Mardi Gras, then two weeks of Jazz Fest.  There were lots of little festivals in between, and the weather was nice, so people came from all over the world.  I spent six winters in New Orleans.  One year, the Superbowl was held there too, right smack in between the Sugarbowl and Mardi Gras.  Boy was that a boom season.  It seemed as though the Patriots fans and the Green Bay fans were also competing against each other to see which ones could spend the most money.

But I remember showing up in the middle of December, my first year.  It was 1994, to be exact.  I had heard about how exciting and bustling and busy the Mardi Gras season in New Orleans was.  I had been in North Carolina, in the mountains, for the summer.   October was approaching, the leaves were about to peak in their fall regalia, and the mountains were full of tourists coming to see the fall colors on the Blue Ridge Parkway.  There were only a few more weeks of the tourist season left, and then the snow would come.  I was eager to find a place to go  for the winter before the first snowfall.  And so I heard about Mardi Gras season, and my decision was made.  It would be New Orleans for the winter that year.

I arrived in a cold, rainy, desolate town devoid of anything resembling the  hustle and bustle I had heard about.  Mid-December in New Orleans is depressing.  I wondered why I was there.    Even Bourbon Street was deserted.   I could easily have gone somewhere else and figured out something else to do, but something inside me wanted to stay, wanted to see what this place was all about.    I went to a local coffee shop that seemed like it was the only happening place and grabbed a table near some people who looked like locals.  Not that New Orleans locals look any different than locals from any other place, but it seemed to be a good enough reason to sit near them.  After talking to them for a little while, I remember them telling me to just wait, wait a couple of weeks until "The Season" starts.  So despite the fear and the doubts going through my head, I did.  And it was worth it.

So here I am today, reliving those early days in New Orleans.  I did see more people today than yesterday.  Several people came by my booth.  It's hard to resist the urge to try to sell something, but I am here for four months.  Unlike Mardi Gras, the people who are coming will be here for awhile.  So today I had to remind myself to relax and just let people come and go without seeming too eager.  Still, there is that terror factor.  That fear of failure.

But it's the kind of feeling that people like me live with all the time- life on the edge so to speak.  I am an adventure traveler.  That same "ecstatic terror" surfaces during times like kayaking Lake Powell, kayaking on the Atlantic side of the Florida Keys, climbing,  backpacking a cross-country route, or even traveling the seasons instead of staying in one place.  For me the "comfort zone" is not comfortable.

The simplest thing like a day kayaking on Lake Powell can bring ecstasy face to face with terror.  You are paddling peacefully in a beautiful canyon when a power boat goes by.  He comes around a curve at 50 miles an hour, his wake slams you up against the canyon wall, and he speeds away.  In that instant you realize that the water is several hundred feet deep there,and it is about 50 degrees.  The air is only 70.  It is a ripe environment for hypothermia, and you are alone again in this canyon being repeatedly dashed by waves into the cliffs.  You grit your teeth, hang onto to your paddle, brace yourself in your boat.  You rehearse in your mind everything you know to do... Don't panic.   You are prepared if something happens.  Turn and face the waves... you know how to swim if you need to,  you know how to do a deep water re-entry.   There's a rock to grab if you have to.  You're wearing a life jacket.  You know how to survive if you get stranded.  You know where your flare is...you have warm clothes in your dry sack...and... and...you wait it out.    Slowly the terror subsides, along with the waves, and you begin slowly and carefully, still shaking a little, to paddle again.    The shoreline approaches, and the thrill of the accomplishment returns, almost as if it is laughing in the face of the terror.  After all, whatever doesn't kill  you makes you stronger.

And you would do it all again.  The terror and the thrill are one and the same.  There are thrilling and terrifying times on a hiking trip, or a climbing trip, or even just driving your car down the street to the store.  The fear of failure in one form or another is present every day.  The only other alternative is to not do anything at all.   I could get injured on backpacking trip, and die out in the wilderness...so should I not go?   If  I live in fear of failure, what is there left in life worth doing?

So here I am.  It's opening day. That emotional rollercoaster has played out today.  But I wouldn't have it any other way.  I can't do the nine-to-five, all day everyday, same mundane thing my whole life.  It has to be this way or there is no point.  And it's too late now, anyway.  Too late for me anyway.   I have been traveling  for over twenty years, and self-employed in some form or another for most of that.  Nothing else will do for me.    

I am reminded of a time when I was working as a climbing instructor.  There was a kid one time who was really excited and eager to climb the wall.  For the first 30 feet or so, she scrambled up that wall with such enthusiasm- and then all of a sudden she stopped.  She looked down at me holding her belay and said, "I'm scared."   I said, "Well, it's too late now, you're already up there.  You may as well keep going to the top".  She thought about it for a minute, then she took a deep breath and kept going.

And so as I reflect upon my opening day, I think about the mental and emotional tug-of-war that characterizes my life.   That life of excitement and adventure.  My first season in New Orleans, doing Mardi Gras and Jazz Fest.  My brush with disaster while kayaking in a canyon in Lake Powell.  My student on the climbing wall.  And my opening day this season.  I realize that, for me, there is no other alternative, not if I want to be happy.  Adventures or misadventures, I still couldn't have it any other way.  And I tell myself, "Well, it's too late now.  You're already up there. You may as well keep going to the top."

Ready Or Not, Here I Am

So tomorrow is opening day.  Technically, I was open today- and if you count the internet, at RocksInMyHead.biz I am always open, 24/7 365.  But as far as a physical booth space goes, with stock out on tables for the world to see, tomorrow is opening day.  My sign is going up tomorrow.   A beautiful, brand new sign 8 feet long and 3 feet high, visible from the road.  I don't have all my stock out yet, stuff is not finished being priced or organized, and there is a myriad of little things that need to be done, but for all intents and purposes I will open for the season tomorrow.  I am excited- I think.  Rather, sometimes I am excited, sometimes I am overwhelmed, and sometimes I am downright terrified.  It just depends on that particular moment.

The beginning of a season is always terrifying- to me at least.  There's the anticipation of the entire season ahead and all the profits it will bring, and the fear that it will come to an end too quickly without bringing in the profits needed.  It's kind of a love/hate relationship in a sense.   I look at my booth full of stock and a million things run through my head, some positive, some negative, some neutral.  What if the stuff I ordered isn't the right stuff and doesn't sell?  Or what if it sells so fast I can't keep my booth stocked?  What if all the pieces I make are exactly what my customers want and are willing to pay good money for- how do I keep up with demand?  And what if they are not and I invest all my time and energy into pieces that don't sell?  What if this and what if that.  Were all the decisions I made over the summer about this season the right ones, or am I going to find out in March that they were all wrong?  

I made alot of investments into my business this year to prepare for this season.  That's what business people do if they want to grow as a business.   But there is always that voice in your head making you second guess yourself, putting the doubt in.   There are the days spent setting up before the season kicks in when the streets are still dead and the town is like a ghost town that make you wonder why you are here.  It takes alot of mental gymnastics to replace the current reality with memories of what the season is like once it is in full swing.  I'm glad I already have two seasons under my belt here to be able to draw on for those memories. 

And then there is the weather.  Ah yes, battling the harshness of the desert in the winter.  I got less accomplished today than normal because of the wind. Covering tables in fabric is easy, unless you are doing it in 25 mph winds.  Tomorrow it will be nice, good for opening day.  But then a storm comes in on Friday, and stuff I worked hard all week to put out will get stowed away in the safety of the trailer to wait out the storm.  In and out, in and out, all winter long.  Yes, I remember that too from seasons past.  It won't be as bad once the initial set up is done and everything is organized and priced,  but it still will be a process of in and out, in and out.  At least I don't have to deal with a tent anymore.  I gave those up years ago.  

Anyway, I sell rocks, so all the rocks can stay out, even all the ones that have already been cut and polished.  Rocks are kind of used to being out in the weather, after all.  Fortunately, all I have to stow away is boxes of lapidary and prospecting stuff, and cases of jewelry, gold, and cabs.  Easy enough.  That is definately not as stressful as if I had a booth full of pottery or paintings.  I have done many shows where I have watched the weather destroy tens, even hundreds of  thousands of dollars worth of inventory in a few hours.  Stuff like paintings or photography or glass work that can't be replaced because it has taken the artist decades to create that inventory.  There are benefits to selling rocks.  

And so I sit here this evening, the night before my opening day, and I look at my booth.  It is still half empty, or half-full, depending on my perspective at that particular moment.  I have another order to place, more rocks to put out, half finished jewelry to finish and put in cases, and pricing to do.   I wonder if I will ever be ready- it seems like so much.  And then when I am done, there is tweaking and rearranging to do.  Then there are all the rocks sitting patiently, waiting for me to begin my winter studio time, cutting, polishing, and creating.   The rocks are ready.  That's good to know. But am I ready?  And is Quartzsite ready for me?  Let's hope so, because ready or not, for another season, here I am.