Arrowheads and Meteorites

Stacks of orange and blue stratocumulus clouds welcomed me and Elmer to the bay beach on a weekday morning just past dawn. Two old timers sat in their vehicles watching the show in the sky. They are regulars at the boat ramp in the early mornings. I always nod at them; they always nod at me. We get it.

Elmer and I ranged south. He went berserk in the mud flats as usual. I collected hairy tritons and shored up my driftwood fort with fresh wood washed ashore.

We rounded a dune and a half mild down the beach I saw a man meandering at the wrack line, head lowered, no doubt a shell hound.

In all my walks here since moving to Coos Bay, I had never encountered another person on this stretch of beach.

Elmer noticed him, stopped and stared.

I plotted a course straight for him and told Elmer to follow me.

A few minutes later, I had met a homeless man, He was not a shell hound. He was searching for arrowheads. He told me this area was once a seasonal gathering place for a band of the Coos tribe. Over the years, his sister had found several artifacts, but he had never scored himself.

What will you do with it if you find one?

Keep it.

I had recently read a history of the area and knew of the seasonal encampment, and another one across the bay. The man and I conversed on this subject for a few minutes and Elmer joined in by barking.

I introduced myself and Elmer. His name was Mark. We began walking together north. I asked if he was homeless. He said yes. This is my first day.

Is that new tent, the green one, yours?

Yes. My sister and I had a feuded and she kicked me out of her apartment.

Where?

A few blocks away.

Maybe you can patch it up.

I don't know.

You have to try.

I know.

He stopped and picked up something from the beach. He held it up from me.

This is from an ancient meteorite.

What?

He explained why. His explanation seemed plausible and I knew nothing about the composition of ancient meteorites to dispute his claims.

Where did you learn about this?

He mumbled something I didn't catch, but didn't press. I could investigate on the internet later...or not. Probably not. I wasn't in a debunking mood. What put me in a much better mood was thinking that a homeless man for one day was an expert on the subject. He certainly qualified as such on arrowheads on Coos Bay.

I'd start hunting for arrowheads on my next visit to the bay. In all my Oregon ramblings, I'd never found one. Now a newly homeless man had put me on the scent.

It was time for us to diverge. I wished him well, angled to the wrack line, and kept my eyes peeled for arrowheads.