Trotter 2000: Trip of the millennium

by Terry Wilson

Jeanne and I hadn’t been on a rock hound field trip in months, and we really wanted to see the magic of fluorescent minerals, so we were primed to go to Trotter Dump in Franklin, NJ, on April 29. The Delaware Valley Earth Science Society plans this annual trip all year, giving people from all over the world a chance to come and hunt for these rare minerals in this former zinc mine, now closed to the public, in north New Jersey. Don Halterman masterminds and coordinates this unique event (read the caption to his photo with the red wagon).

We gathered the usual rocking gear — work boots, picks, hammers, hard hats, safety goggles — but this trip also required an ultraviolet lamp in order to see the colors; otherwise, they are rather ordinary rocks. I attended a camera club fair earlier in the day, so I was inspired to take my camera and skew the trip towards photography, rather than collecting. When I stocked up on film at Walmart, I also picked up a new tripod. My photography buddies poke fun at my old one, and besides I wanted a quick-release head to hold the camera so I wouldn’t have to fumble with anything in the dark.

I picked up Jeanne around 5 p.m. and we drove a little over 2 hours north. Rising into the mountains, we watched the arrival of spring in reverse: the trees were nearly in full leaf at home, but barely past bud stage by the time we got to Franklin. We knew we were in the right place when we spied a U-Haul truck with Franklin fluorescent minerals illustrating its side. Jeanne and I pulled into the collecting location tucked in the middle of town. We greeted our fellow club members, and paid our $20 collecting fees. With still an hour’s worth of light, I set up my tripod and recorded the general area, including the long trench which is specially bulldozed for (and financed by) this trip.

As darkness fell, Grant Elliot, left, from our club, showed us specimens in the discard pile that looked inviting under UV light, even with some ambient daylight. The picture I took of that pile was the only photo that actually showed both the fluorescent colors and the natural rock. Later, it would be pitch black, showing only vibrant colors. Lorraine Campbell loaned us an old electric UV light, and we settled into an area at the end of an extension cord plugged into a generator. We very soon decided that having your own battery-operated powerful SuperBrite UV light would make this a much better trip, although it would set you back about $300.

Earlier that day when I was with my camera buddies, my friend Ellen gave me a last-minute tip. She said to trust my Nikon’s autoexposure feature, even at night, as modern computerized metering systems are very reliable. This gave me the confidence to just compose and shoot, and not agonize over exposure times, wasting film on widely bracketed shots. In fact, I did no bracketing, and my rejects had nothing to do with faulty exposure. (Most of the shots took 10 to 15 seconds.)

I left Jeanne happily searching a pile of rocks, and took off down the road to an exposed rock face, where Don Halterman, Greg Lesinski and others were working away, cracking open new material. Steve Phillips, the property’s owner, had the bulldozer cut a fresh exposure of the original ore body, making this the highlight of the whole event. This was the first new material exposed since 1954, when the mine ceased operations.

Along the walk, I encountered people using their UV lights to show them their way, making the calcite willemite sand at their feet glow like a million embers. At the end of the road, I parked myself across from the guys and shoved my tripod into the side of a sand hill.

Don was cracking large rocks, while Greg was holding court before a small audience after uncovering a spectacular vein of electric blue hydrozincite, smeared across the typical red and green rocks. He writes: "Here is how exploring an 1/8" seam and testing the rock for unseen fractures can pay off. I was rewarded with this hidden hydrozincite treasure, which revealed itself after probing the rock face. An unforgettable experience I was able to share with the many children who were gathered behind me with their parents. I made sure all the kids who wanted some pieces got some." I got him to pose with his wall, then moved in on Don Halterman. Next I got Don and young Jennifer Carey to ‘wash’ their section of wall with their UV lights for a long exposure.

I made my way back to Jeanne, where she was looking for “crazy calcite,” a two-toned red mineral, with Sid Pomper from Massachusetts. Sid was familiar with the area, and told us that many local houses have chimneys made from native rocks, and at Christmas, people illuminate them with UV lights for a red and green show. Sid found some very nice specimens (including crazy calcite), and we set them up for close up shots. Jeanne found some pretties also, and agonized over what to keep and what to leave. They charge $2 per pound since these specimens are so rare and finite. (If all quarries had this policy, maybe we wouldn’t all have so many rocks cluttering up our garages…)

At checkout time, I ran into Greg again. I scattered some magic “red” sand on my bucket lid and arranged his beautiful blue rocks on it for the best shot of the night (the shot that opens this photo layout). Jeanne and I said our goodbyes a little before midnight and found a diner for a bite before making the 2 hour drive back home.

As soon as I got home, I thought of a few things I could have done that will have to wait for next year. For example, I can’t believe it didn’t occur to me to take natural flash photos as companions to the UV lighted exposures. I crossed my fingers when I picked up my pictures a few days later, and was amazed at how well they came out. I posted the best ones on the Internet, and got feedback from Greg asking if I was going to the nearby Buckwheat night collecting trip in June. Maybe I won’t have to wait a year after all!