I am absolutely convinced that everyone, yes, literally every cop has their own story about incredible or even unpredictable luck in the pit. I also have a lot of such stories, and by a certain point in time there were already so many of these same stories that I had a desire to at least somehow systematize them. Damn it, if you believe the fans of the Russian Lotto, even the lottery has its own pattern. Therefore, I decided to devote several field trips to conducting statistical experiments.
How was it all?
About three years ago, I entered a new field, unknown to me in the village. The field was plowed and covered with discs, and therefore it was logical to run through it in “reconnaissance” mode. And it should be noted that the reconnaissance was extremely successful. He walked in a straight line from one end to another, back and forth, and in the swag box lay eight scales and three copper coins. This is the result!!! This is where I hit the nail on the head!!! Definitely a field rich in swag.
The next day I came again to dig for a couple of hours in the evening in the same field. I walked around haphazardly, also in the “Reconnaissance” mode. And then what? In the first 1.5 hours the cop dug up SIX buttons and nothing else. Six buttons Karl. On the way back, I picked up one dead, worn-out coin. But, six buttons, that’s something you can rarely dig up in a whole day as a cop.
A similar example of buttons on another field)))
Okay, Grandpa joked and that will be enough for you. I said challengingly, looking at the field for the third exit. No accidents, this time I decided to just follow the chain of my own tracks from the first day of copping. I went back there, the result was one coin and various kinds of scrap accessories. So, how to understand this???
Conclusion. Since then, I began to take a more practical approach to the stories of comrades about how they found rich swag in a cleared field. Or how a digger with a cheap device digs more than his comrades with professional MDs. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, and I believe it, but why not believe it? When you pick up the sixth button in a row, you begin to understand that being a cop is not a systematic and unpredictable hobby at all.
Epilogue. Yesterday a friend arrived from Moscow; he has a dacha in a neighboring village. He is a good person and a reliable friend, and therefore I always give him one of my MDs upon arrival to dig at his leisure. As usual, I recommend interesting metas, and, yes, I showed him that very field. Why, let him dig for buttons too. He sends me a photo this morning. I dug for a couple of hours at dawn. And there, a cloud cover and a bronze arrowhead. I won’t write further, because I have only non-literary images on my mind.
