7/24/04

    Steve and I got together for our weekly dig. Hopes were running high. We had a pretty good property lined up in an old section of town. It was a little to early to bug him,  So, we decided to open up a pit on an empty lot we have been excavating.

    It was right next to the pit from last week. It probably wasn't going to be old, but maybe we could get something cool out anyway. The digging was easy, but the gnats were terrible. Flying into our ears and eyes. The pit was six feet deep and full of broken pottery and glass. Some of the more interesting things were: a pint Special Dairy from Pueblo(Colorado), a bunch of salt shakers, a few citron and aqua Dr Pierces Anuric Tablets for Kidney and Back Pain, Buob Brewing crowntop in aqua, Croak Brewing, Magnesia Springs water bottle from Montgomery Illinois, and even some broken 78 rpm records. After filling it in, we headed over to our long awaited next dig.

Goodies from the first pit

    By now it was 10 am. I figured the owner should be up. I knocked on his door and got his dog barking. A minute latter he came out.  Of course it looked like he had been sleeping. Sure enough, he is a 2nd shifter and just got to bed. I apologized and he gave to go ahead. We had probed a pit behind the garage and one on the lot line last year at this place. We spent 10 minutes trying to find the one in the corner. It was so rocky. Every once in awhile we would get some ash on the tip, but we weren't sure it was a pit. Then we moved to the one behind the garage and couldn't find it. What the heck is going on. There is only three feet of space between the garage and the fence, I don't know how we could be missing it. I gave it one last try, finally finding the spot. The long probe was stuck in next, she went to the handle, no sign of bottom.

Not much room, looks like a lot of work ahead.

    I started looking for the edge. Steve's probe tip got broken off a couple minutes before, so he couldn't use his. Tap, tap, tap. I move over a little. Tap, tap, tap. "Steve, I think we got a stone liner here". Sure enough it was! Pontil fever sets in. It has been awhile, but one will never forget the symptoms. To make matters better, it is deeper than 7'. I can imagine a 10' deep stone liner, chocked full of pontil goodies all the way down to the layer.

    Part of the pit would be under the garage. I didn't want the owner to come out and see a gaping hole under his garage. So, I went back to the house and got him back out of bed to make sure it was OK. Looking back, I am lucky the guy didn't kill me, or worse yet make us leave. Anyway, we set up a couple tarps and start shoveling. The first four feet produced some turn of the century bottles mixed in with a lot of ash. Steve probed it out, looks like it will be 8' in depth. Then we started bucketing. Carrying the dirt out one pail at a time, around the corner of the garage because the tarps were filling up.

Steve deep in the stone liner

    To make a long story short, we got down to the bottom and the pit never got any older than 1900.  There was no long forgotten use layer, nothing. This thing was scooped out and used over and over. I can't believe how much effort we put into it for nothing. From a pontil pit high to the lowest of low. It felt like somebody kicked me right in the bag.

    We filled it in and headed home.

The take from the stone liner, not good.