June 27, 2000
Well, we have fluorite but they are small purple ones in small cavities coated with druzzy quartz. We are definitely in the "flats" now and there is no telling how wide the zone is or when we will be into the B.S. (Black Sheep) pocket. There has been noticeable disruption the back of the B.S. pocket from our blasting so we must be close and careful. We will start putting in smaller loads in fewer holes and carefully take apart the rock.
I washed down the wall leading up to the B.S. pocket in the main tunnel to see if I could determine how wide the zone may be, but it is difficult to tell whether the pockets we see in the tunnel wall are associated with the vertical vein or the flats. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.
After mucking out the previous day's shot, Dave and I laid another 18 foot set of permanent track. The Limestone seems to be dipping slightly since the roof is now at head level instead of the 7 feet we started with. This means that we will have to back up the mucker to where the tunnel is a full 7 feet high to be able to dump into the ore car.
The ore car gave us problems. Twice, while pushing it back out towards the portal we derailed it and believe me, a full ore car is not so easily put back on the tracks. Dave knows all the tricks and with only a little problem we had back on track (no pun intended). Later in the afternoon while Byron poked at the face, Dave and I turned the ore car over and replaced the rubber pads and bolts that hold the axles to the undercarriage. There was an inch of play and Dave said that's why it won't go around tight corners. Now, no more problem.
Tomorrow is another day and we intent to shoot a few holes in the face to push forward some more. When we have the time I intend to take the drill apart. It drills nicely but puts water through the main body of the drill emulsifying with the rock oil and fogging up the tunnel so bad I call it "drilling by Braille". You can't tell whether drill steel is turning or not unless you put your hand on it. Kind of like the Tulle Fog of the southern San Joaquin Valley, can't see your hand in front of your face.
Till tomorrow, Cheers, Jim, Byron and Jonina