American Locations - Crater of Diamonds

From Natchez Trace State Park in Tennessee my wife and I continued west on I-40 through Memphis and across the Mississippi River into Arkansas. We followed I-40 to Little Rock, where we picked up I-30 and continued southwest. We stopped at Crater of Diamonds State Park to dig for diamonds. I didn’t expect to find any. But I dug anyway. Sort of why people buy lottery tickets. They don’t really expect to win. But they just might. People had found diamonds here, a few of them valuable. Like winners at the lottery.

Only buying a lottery ticket was easy. Getting here took effort. We were traveling this way and it was a only short detour from our route. But the drive wasn’t scenic, and the park itself had nothing to offer other than a plowed field. Where you could dig for diamonds. Ages ago there was a volcano, which produced the diamonds. A company had mined the place, but once all the easily-reached diamonds were gotten it had gone out of business. Then someone had opened the place up to fortune seekers, charging them for the opportunity to dig for diamonds. After that had gone out of business the state of Arkansas bought the property and turned it into a state park and established a campground. They also built a visitor center detailing the history of the place, which is where I learned all this. And they opened up the field for digging.

Every two weeks they plow the field. This supposedly turns up new diamonds. The park ranger told me it had just been plowed, so our chances were good at finding a diamond. The field was several acres, so there was plenty of space to roam around, looking here, poking there, digging in various places. There was no rhyme or reason to it. You just hoped to stumble onto something.

We weren’t alone. There were a dozen or so of us diamond seekers that day, scouring the dirt for fortune. And we were outside, in the open air. And it was a pleasant day. And we were getting some exercise. And this was something different, I had never dug for diamonds before. Also, I did find some interesting rocks. So I persisted.

Then it started to rain. I’d like to say I quit. My wife had before the rain even started. Most of the others quit once it did. But I continued to slog through the mud. For the same reason the 49’s wasted their lives going to California to dig for gold. I was willing to work a little for the chance to gain a lot. Only these pioneers had helped settle what became the richest state in the union. All I accomplished was to get muddier and wetter than I have ever been in my life.

But I persisted. With the mindset, ‘I can’t quit now.’ I had already invested so much time and effort. Just a little more effort might produce results. I let momentum carry me through the mud. Sort of like that definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

It rained harder and harder. It became difficult to pull my feet free of the muck with every step I took. So, finally, I quit. I cleaned my boots, took a shower, and put on clean dry clothes. It was an experience, one that I can’t imagine I’ll ever repeat. I’d rather buy lottery tickets. It’s easier. And cleaner.

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