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Up to the Yukon, in search of his grandfather's gold
After his grandfather amassed a small fortune (and then lost it all) panning for gold, a young prospector heads to Canada's Yukon Territory in hopes of striking it rich.
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By Ryan MacDonald
British Broadcasting Corp., London
Friday, August 3, 2018
Crouching above the frigid waters that race down Bonanza Creek, one of many streams that feed the mighty Klondike River in north-west Canada's Yukon Territory, I stared into the bottom of a rusted metal pan, hoping to spot something shiny among the sediment.
... Dispatch continues below ...
Juggernaut Commences Inaugural Drill Campaign on Its Empire Property
via Globe Newswire
Tuesday, July 31, 2018
VANCOUVER, British Columbia, Canada -- Juggernaut Exploration Ltd. (JUGR.V) is pleased to report it has commenced diamond drilling and IP programs on its Empire property, 40 kilometers northeast of Terrace, British Columbia.
-- Inaugural drill program started on Empire at the MaxMin zone.
-- 2018 IP survey at Big One identifies significant chargeability anomaly in the subsurface coincident with the airborne EM anomaly.
-- New Jay-Bear zone discovered on Empire that is situated on regional northwest trending geophysically indicated structure.
Diamond drilling will commence August 7 on Midas. ...
... For the remainder of the announcement:
I had come to this isolated pocket of Canada to write about a local gold-panning world champion. But what I was really hoping for was some of my grandfather’s good luck. In his lifetime, he amassed a sizeable sum (and then lost it all) panning for gold. If I could channel just an ounce of his prosperous spirit, I’d be leaving a richer man.
With my patience running thin, I did my best to employ a method I learned in Dawson City, a nearby mining town where gold was first discovered in 1896. The trick, a local explained to me, was to tilt the pan back and forth and create tiny ripples across the surface. These undulations help the valuable metal break away from the dirt. The murky, coffee-coloured mixture, which comprised a few scoops of dirt and river water, swirled around the surface of my plate-sized saucer before splashing down between my legs. No matter how methodically I swished the contents of my pan, only clumps of mud remained.
Overhead, dark, bloated clouds swallowed the spring sky and sent tiny pellets of hail hurling in my direction. When a gust of wind kicked off my hat, the festive optimism of the day slithered downstream with it. Resigned, I tossed my muddy boots, along with my dignity, into the trunk of my rental car. ...
... For the remainder of the report:
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