My search for this mine has roots going all the way back to the 1990s, when on a Saturday afternoon I paid ten cents per page to photocopy a geological booklet I found at the UNH library. I didn't go searching for Pattuck back then, but the booklet ended up in my basement and while doing a little minimalizing a few years ago I stumbled back across it. Always up for a challenge, I set out to see if I could find it using not much more than one of the page's hand-drawn maps.
Although it didn't seem like it should be a tricky place to find - just follow the old mining path on up - I made the search much harder by two weekends in a row choosing the wrong entry point to climb the mountain. But in my defense, when you're looking for a dirt road that hasn't been used in nearly seventy-five years, they don't always jump right out at you. As a result, those first two attempts resulted in enjoyable afternoons in the mountains, but nothing else.
My third time out was with friends, and this time I picked an entry point that, looking back on it, should have been obvious from the start. Bound not to make the day too easy though, I still led the group on a completely unnecessary detour over a rock face before we finally found the first of the dig sites.
Photo by Barry McKay |
From there it was easy enough to continue uphill until locating the main area of Pattuck, identified as Pit B in Pegmatite Investigations 1942-1945 New England, by Eugene Cameron. Pit B consists of a large open pit and tunnel extending off its northern end, and is littered with the kind of scraps that any rockhounder would be happy to set up camp in.
Because its entrance sits within a dip, from a distance the tunnel looked like we were going to have to enter on our hands and knees.
Photo by John Egolf |
But once past the dip its deceivingly large opening becomes apparent. Rubber boots - a staple for any good mineshaft explorer - are also necessary to navigate several inches of water.
Photo by John Egolf |
Although easily of walking height, after approximately twenty feet the tunnel ends in a pool, making this one of the smaller mines we have explored here in the granite state. Three separate afternoons of searching, all for my buddy to poke his head inside and ask, that's it? Not all of our mines are going to be as extensive as the Paddock Pit, but every one of them is a treasure, a window into our past, and a reminder of how men once earned their living at jobs that would never understand the concept of dress down Friday.
My third time into the hills of Alexandria turned out to be the charm, as well as a lesson in persistence, and I was finally able to remove the Pattuck Mica Mine off my never-ending database of places I seek to find.