JAY-R MINE

Jim's passing marked a huge turning point in Cheri's life. She felt as though there were no real objectives beyond mere existence. The one focal point that defined her character was gone forever and the future looked unclear at best. Economic necessity and the need to re-channel her energies led her to a job at the local newspaper where she could put her art training to work as a layout artist in advertising. Always at the back of her mind was that little opal mine out in the hills, but it was difficult to contemplate the future of the property minus Jim's presence. Annual assessment work needed to be done on the opal claim, so Cheri hired the man who purchased part of the property during Jim's illness. Other than that, little thought was given to the mine. The camping gear, hand tools, and polishing equipment were packed away, and a box of exquisite blue opals remained hidden in a drawer as reminders of a vastly different way of life.

During Jim's short stay in the hospital Cheri became acquainted with a staff secretary who could see the desperation and loneliness Cheri was facing. This lady, herself a widow, invited Cheri home to meet her family and friends and share an occasional dinner. In time, these visits became a weekly event with a crowd gathered around the grill cooking hamburgers and hotdogs and finishing the evening with wild games of table tennis. Everyone knew Cheri's story, but there was one in the group that wanted to know more. His name was Mike Anderson and he became fascinated with the fact that this slip of a woman was an honest to goodness opal miner. At the time, Anderson was on temporary hire with the Forest Service during the fire season and when there were no fires to fight, his crew performed erosion control work in the drainages of the Huachuca Mountains and routine patrol in the Coronado National Forest, Canelo District. He was no stranger to the outdoors, but was amazed that this little lady had camped for over a year in the forest while staking and working her mining claims. It seemed almost like a tale from the previous century! Anderson must have seemed skeptical at some point so Cheri invited him to dinner followed by a look at the picture album. The Polaroids told the story better than words. It was a pictorial chronicle of blood, sweat, and tears, toil and triumph, discovery and perseverance. Cheri was proud of the hardships she had overcome to live such a life and Mike was one of the few who came close to understanding what that meant. His respect for her grew as the tale unfolded and to cap the evening off Cheri produced the box of polished opals mounted on cards and carefully wrapped in tissue. It was hard to believe that such beautiful gems could come from those dusty desert hills in the pictures. With Cheri's two Siamese cats glaring at him from the corner of the couch, Anderson looked first at the pictures, then at the stones and back at the pictures again. It was agreed that a trip to the mine would be in order.

Before dawn the following Saturday, Mike was at Cheri's door, his Jeep loaded with a few tools, an ice chest with lunch, and a full tank of gas. What seemed like a lark at the time would ultimately shape the life of this rather footloose individual. An hour's drive on the highway brought them to the turn off that would lead to a back road adventure in an as yet unsurveyed portion of the National Forest. As the Jeep crested the mountain, Anderson could see a huge valley, the floor of which was crowded with steeply folded hills dotted with scrub oak and deeply scarred with winding canyons. Cheri pointed across the valley to the rugged hills that harbored the blue opal and suggested it was time to "shift this thing into four wheel drive." To Anderson, it was an endless maze of steep gullies to be crossed, rock formations that resembled mushrooms, and a torturous trail that at times followed an arroyo showing recent signs of flash flooding. It took over an hour to cover those bone jarring four miles and around each bend there was a new story or adventure for Cheri to recall. An old camp by some ruined corrals, traces of the old Honda trail, a windmill and corrals that constituted the one and only permanent landmark for miles. It became obvious that she was familiar with every rock and tree stump and knew this area well enough to cross it blind folded.

At long last the two arrived at a tiny valley Cheri had named Bull Hollow. Just beyond could be seen the buff colored volcanic rock formation that held the opal and another hundred yards revealed the first of the old location pits. The Jeep got its first breather at the second pit where Anderson could see the top two feet of an eight foot ladder still showing in the hole. The sides had crumbled inward hiding evidence of all the hard work the Saunders had invested there. Across the Jeep trail and up the draw, Cheri pointed out the pit that had grudgingly yielded the most beautiful opal of all and as the two climbed through the rocks and cactus Cheri was constantly stooping and picking up pieces of float opal, some of which showed fire. Sadly, she dropped the opals explaining that she no longer owned this property and if we wanted to prospect for some "keepers" we would have to drive to the top of the hill where her claim was located.

The Jeep climbed the last, and by far the most rugged hill of the trip and was parked in a saddle between two knobby hilltops. From this vantage point, Saunders was able to point out the dimensions of her property. The Location Monument was on the peak of the hill to the north and the 1500 ft. by 600 ft. claim ran roughly east and west from that central point. She had named it the JAY-R mining claim incorporating the initials of her late husband, James Robert. No heavy work had been done on this property, she explained, just prospecting with hand tools and a few shallow digs here and there. At the top near the Monument Anderson was shown the spot where Cheri had made the original discovery of precious opal what seemed like ages ago. Anderson couldn't imagine how anyone could find a tiny vein of opal in such an immense and forbiddingly rugged landscape such as this. It could only have been a truly talented prospector!

Anderson wanted to commence digging right away, but Cheri convinced him that one must look for certain signs that might indicate opal such as a tiny stringer of chalcedony on the surface, some weathered quartz crystals, or maybe a few fragments of white float scattered on the ground. After a couple of hours of random chipping and sampling, the greenhorn came up empty handed, but determined nonetheless to find and extract a pocket of nice opal. The sun was sinking fast and there was a long and bumpy road home awaiting them, so it was decided to return again soon when there was more time to devote to some serious digging. Saunders mentioned that work performed on the claim would qualify for the required annual assessment work and that she would pay for Anderson's labors. She also offered to show him how to cut and polish an opal if he was so inclined. It had been a full day indeed and plans were made for more trips to the mine as well as some lapidary lessons.

The first stone that Mike ever cut and polished is a bit lopsided and has a small bulge on one side, but it is mounted in a ring that he still wears 30 years later. On one side of the shank is a connected JR, which denotes the mine and on the other side is a scorpion, which denotes the name of the original mining claims. The scorpion is doubly appropriate due to the fact that Scorpio is the sign for October, Cheri's birth month, and opal is the birthstone for October. Also, according to Cheri, while building all the stone monuments marking the boundaries of the mining claims, there seemed to be a scorpion lurking beneath every rock that she picked up! That first experiment in lapidary demonstrated to Mike that he was going to have to dig deep to find the patience and finesse required to gently coax a gemstone out of a rock. Cheri's rock polisher now had an electric motor instead of the noisy gas engine and it was set up in a spare room along with a six inch rock saw. Cheri had some rough opal on hand as well as new material the two had dug at the mine so they began the process of cutting and shaping opals. Much of the material didn't have the fire, or play of color that gives high value to a precious opal, but it was still a beautiful sky blue as appealing as any turquoise stone. It was also a good way to get some experience before tackling the really valuable stuff, which has never been abundant. After several trips to the mine Cheri wrote Mike a check for the assessment work requirements, which he promptly spent on a ten inch rock saw that would handle the bigger material. It would be safe to say that he had "caught the bug."