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Flintknapping

Thinking back......

I sit sometimes and think what was it exactly that sparked my interest in aquiring indian relics. I didn't find my first point until I was 25. Before then I had always wanted to start collecting but really didn't know where to start, until a friend took me to a spot. Soon after we arrived there, I was introduced to hundreds of pieces of flint fragments. I bent over a thousand times that day looking through the ancient heep of debutage laying throughout the dirt floor of this clearcut. I was still unclear what I was looking at but nonetheless I knew that a great possibility lay before me, so I kept my eyes focused on the rocks. To our great disappointment we found nothing, and headed home just feeling lucky to have gotten a feel for being on a site.
 
Not long after, I went back to this site, except I entered from the opposite side thinking it might have been shorter that way. When I started up the ridge toward the area I was headed for, I started to notice the flakes. I picked them all up, putting them all in my pockets, of course, and finally reached a knoll high above the road where I had parked. After taking a breather I headed along the main bulldozer path and to my surprise there lay a perfect point, not just any ugly ole point either. It was an Adena beavertail in flintridge, red and cream swirl, milky smooth, thin and perfectly chipped. from that moment I was hooked. I then walked not 20 feet and as if I was dreaming, there lay a perfect triangle blade in a brown creamy flint, even thinner and more perfectly chipped than the beavertail.
 
After my great success i then decided to sit and admire the scenery. In the dark about what still laid around me, I sat looking in every direction,  studying where my next steps would be taking me, and refueling on a can of vienna sausages.
 
Feeling less dazed now from the effect of my discovery, I moved on. The flint was pouring out from all around me my eyes didn't know what to do. My head was throbbing from bending over too many times, and my heart was pumping fast. My hands were busy accumulating anything flint. Soon the sun warned me to go home, and my pockets  agreed.
 
When I got home with my loot, I displayed it all on the kitchen table, and started looking through the flint. Noticing diferent things about certain pieces, prompted me to buy some books. To my surprise some of the flakes and spawls etc. were actually tools.
 
 

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