surfaceone
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Good evening everyone,
Over the years, I've done some some pretty blatant trespassing, but it's been for a good cause; bottles and old weird stuff in the ground.
When I see fenced construction sites, I'm always looking for a way in, so that I may have a look around. I've found some great stuff. I've had some construction workers leave me bottles, when I've made them aware of what I'm doing. I've been asked nicely to fill in my holes by a few, and was happy to do so, even though there's giant earth moving equipment on site.
This year I've had a coupla very unsatisfactory encounters with "security" guards. Early this spring, I noticed that a public project had removed their security fences. I thought, "OK, then...," and went to have a look at the dirtpile. I grabbed my potatoe rake (a Dan Quayle autograph model) and my favorite scratcher and scouted the open back perimeter. Plenty of nothing... I went to have a look at a big dirtpile from the other side, saw a car parked near the construction trailer, and decided to come back another day. I turned to go, and was 50 feet from the sidewalk, when I heard yelling behind me. I kept on going.
"Don't move, mother-bleeper!" got me to stop. Twenty feet away was an older gentleman in full official "security guard" uniform, including the fake fur trooper hat with badge. He was pointing his old Smith & Wesson right at me. "Get yer A$$ over here, NOW!" I raised my arms, still holding my potato rake and scratcher. He had me walk back.
"What the Bleep are you doing here!" he yelled. I started to tell him. He just yelled, "Shut the hell up!" When I got within 10 ft. of him, he yelled, "What the Bleep do you have in your hands?"
"My tools..." sez I, "I'm an ..." He says, "Drop em, right now!" from his version of the combat shooting stance. I drop the potato rake, but the scratcher is looped around my wrist with the leather thong. Now he grabs me and starts shakin me around, while waving his gun.
I'm not a big guy. He's over 6 foot, and 200+ pounds. I'm also the wrong color for this fellow. I drop my favorite scratcher. He shakes me around some more, and says, "Now, get the Bleep outta here!"
I say, "Can I have my tools..." He goes back to the combat stance.
I guess not. This is making a No Bottles day, all that much worse.
I think of a lot of ways to return the favors to this gentleman, but just let it go. Chalking it up to experience. Bad experience, but...
***********************************
This early evening, I was scouting a construction site, of another soon-to-be surface parking lot. I've talked to the surveyor on site. I asked him if it was okay to look around. He said, "Not really, they don't want anyone on this side of the plastic orange snow fence. Kinda sketchy that snow fence. Lotta gaps and really no deterrent. It did have those "No trespassing" signs.
I found the top of a privy, or trash pit, that had been freshly scalped by the earth moving equipment, within a few minutes of sliding through a gap in the plastic fence. I started digging. Lots of ash and shards.
I had just started, was trying to find the edges and was down about a foot & a half in the middle, when I heard a loud whistle.
I turned around, and saw an unmarked black Crown Vic with 2 men in blue motioning to me. I grabbed my stuff and started to walk in there direction.
All guns remained holstered. They wanted to know what the heck I was doing. I told them. They asked if I had permission. I said that I had talked to various people and had received mixed responses. They suggested that I come back Monday during business hours. I said, "OK, will do. Sorry to bother you."
One of the guards wanted to know if I found anything. I showed him the one clay marble, real nice little child's pot lid and a glass cabochon, from a piece of jewelry I had found. He didn't seem too impressed.
I left.
++++++++
The second part of a pit I found was at the bottom of a retention pond to-be. It's down 10 feet below grade and invisible from the road. It's the older of the 2 I found, I believe.
Would y'all come back tomorrow and try to dig that? What would you do? They saw my vehicle. Didn't even ask my name. What's a digger to do...
+++++++
This site sits between a Roosevelt era series of projects, and a school. The other day, when I was there, actual Police officers stopped by and wanted to know what I was doing. They warned me that there was some real bad characters in the projects, and that I should be real careful. They didn't say a word about trespassing. Guess they had better things to do.
+++++++
I'd like to hear your stories of the fine points of trespassing for digging sites. How to deal with "security guards," or whatever your thoughts are on the matter. Thanks...
When I see fenced construction sites, I'm always looking for a way in, so that I may have a look around. I've found some great stuff. I've had some construction workers leave me bottles, when I've made them aware of what I'm doing. I've been asked nicely to fill in my holes by a few, and was happy to do so, even though there's giant earth moving equipment on site.
This year I've had a coupla very unsatisfactory encounters with "security" guards. Early this spring, I noticed that a public project had removed their security fences. I thought, "OK, then...," and went to have a look at the dirtpile. I grabbed my potatoe rake (a Dan Quayle autograph model) and my favorite scratcher and scouted the open back perimeter. Plenty of nothing... I went to have a look at a big dirtpile from the other side, saw a car parked near the construction trailer, and decided to come back another day. I turned to go, and was 50 feet from the sidewalk, when I heard yelling behind me. I kept on going.
"Don't move, mother-bleeper!" got me to stop. Twenty feet away was an older gentleman in full official "security guard" uniform, including the fake fur trooper hat with badge. He was pointing his old Smith & Wesson right at me. "Get yer A$$ over here, NOW!" I raised my arms, still holding my potato rake and scratcher. He had me walk back.
"What the Bleep are you doing here!" he yelled. I started to tell him. He just yelled, "Shut the hell up!" When I got within 10 ft. of him, he yelled, "What the Bleep do you have in your hands?"
"My tools..." sez I, "I'm an ..." He says, "Drop em, right now!" from his version of the combat shooting stance. I drop the potato rake, but the scratcher is looped around my wrist with the leather thong. Now he grabs me and starts shakin me around, while waving his gun.
I'm not a big guy. He's over 6 foot, and 200+ pounds. I'm also the wrong color for this fellow. I drop my favorite scratcher. He shakes me around some more, and says, "Now, get the Bleep outta here!"
I say, "Can I have my tools..." He goes back to the combat stance.
I guess not. This is making a No Bottles day, all that much worse.
I think of a lot of ways to return the favors to this gentleman, but just let it go. Chalking it up to experience. Bad experience, but...
***********************************
This early evening, I was scouting a construction site, of another soon-to-be surface parking lot. I've talked to the surveyor on site. I asked him if it was okay to look around. He said, "Not really, they don't want anyone on this side of the plastic orange snow fence. Kinda sketchy that snow fence. Lotta gaps and really no deterrent. It did have those "No trespassing" signs.
I found the top of a privy, or trash pit, that had been freshly scalped by the earth moving equipment, within a few minutes of sliding through a gap in the plastic fence. I started digging. Lots of ash and shards.
I had just started, was trying to find the edges and was down about a foot & a half in the middle, when I heard a loud whistle.
I turned around, and saw an unmarked black Crown Vic with 2 men in blue motioning to me. I grabbed my stuff and started to walk in there direction.
All guns remained holstered. They wanted to know what the heck I was doing. I told them. They asked if I had permission. I said that I had talked to various people and had received mixed responses. They suggested that I come back Monday during business hours. I said, "OK, will do. Sorry to bother you."
One of the guards wanted to know if I found anything. I showed him the one clay marble, real nice little child's pot lid and a glass cabochon, from a piece of jewelry I had found. He didn't seem too impressed.
I left.
++++++++
The second part of a pit I found was at the bottom of a retention pond to-be. It's down 10 feet below grade and invisible from the road. It's the older of the 2 I found, I believe.
Would y'all come back tomorrow and try to dig that? What would you do? They saw my vehicle. Didn't even ask my name. What's a digger to do...
+++++++
This site sits between a Roosevelt era series of projects, and a school. The other day, when I was there, actual Police officers stopped by and wanted to know what I was doing. They warned me that there was some real bad characters in the projects, and that I should be real careful. They didn't say a word about trespassing. Guess they had better things to do.
+++++++
I'd like to hear your stories of the fine points of trespassing for digging sites. How to deal with "security guards," or whatever your thoughts are on the matter. Thanks...