Rancher Cal Johnson looked at the land sale paperwork and smiled. “You sure hoodwinked that city boy,” he thought to himself. Ever since Karma Creek had nearly dried up, the land around it had become virtually worthless for raising cattle or any other livestock or crops. There was no other water for many miles, and the water in the creek wouldn’t have supported more than a couple dozen head. “I was lucky to find such a sucker to buy it. That foolish city boy Michael Krumholz is going to lose his shirt.” The thought brought another smile to his face.
Forty-five minutes later, Michael Krumholz stood in Karma Creek. He reached down and pulled up a handful of wet soil. As the water drained beneath his fingers, it lightly washed away a thin film that had covered flakes and even some small nuggets that glistened brightly in the golden sunlight. The view made geological engineer Michael Krumholz smile.