Sometimes, You Just Have to Ask: Our Montana, Wyoming & South Dakota Rockhounding Adventure
Before every rockhounding trip, we do our homework. We research locations, study maps, save coordinates, check access, and make lists of what we're supposed to find at each spot. By the time we leave home, our maps are covered with little pins, and we have enough research to convince ourselves that we know exactly what we're doing. Then we get there and discover that the rocks have changed the assignment.
Our August trip through Montana, Wyoming, and South Dakota was no exception. We spent part of the trip with our jujujems Wyoming Rockhounding Team and explored rivers, mountains, canyons, old mining areas, roadside cuts, and more than a few places that looked considerably easier to reach while sitting at home on a computer.
We also continued our seemingly lifelong quest to find the mythical rockhound's honey hole—that magical spot where you look down, and everything is a keeper.
We didn't find it.
We did, however, discover that some of the best finds of the entire trip came from places that weren't marked on our maps at all.
Montana Agates ... Where Are You?
One of our first days took us to the Yellowstone River in Montana, where we were looking for—yep—Montana Agates. We worked five different locations between Reed Point and Columbus with our team, but the river evidently hadn't received the memo about our visit. The water was extremely low, and everything was covered with enough dirt and slime that one rock looked pretty much like the next.
Rocky river in Montana Rockhounding on the Yellowstone River in Montana
Out came the spray bottles. Spray a rock, look at it, put it down. Spray another rock, look at it, put it down. Every once in a while we'd get a hmmm ... maybe, and that one went into the bucket. After repeating this process more times than we can count, we had some Yellow Jasper and some possible Montana Agates to show for it. Obviously, Montana had decided to camouflage most of its goodies before we arrived.
We say possible Montana Agates because there are few phrases spoken more frequently on our trips than “We'll know when we cut it.” Sometimes a plain-looking rock goes under the saw and reveals something beautiful. Other times the promising rock you carried around all afternoon, put in the truck, hauled halfway across the country, and finally cut open at home reveals that it is, in fact ... a rock. At least it got to see the country.
Welcome to the Land of Leaverite
The Oregon Basin south of Cody, Wyoming, was another carefully researched destination. There certainly wasn't a shortage of rocks, but having lots of rocks and having lots of rocks you actually want are two entirely different things. We found chert, chalcedony, more chert, more chalcedony, and just when we thought we'd seen it all, some more chert ... and chalcedony.
Much of it received our favorite unofficial mineral classification: Leaverite—as in, leave 'er right there. Every rockhound eventually develops this skill, although it usually comes after hauling enough pretty but ordinary rocks home to realize you already have enough from the last time. We still have to remind ourselves: Put it down. You don't need another one!
We found a few agates and a shell fossil, but overall the day earned about a two on our completely scientific one-to-ten rockhounding scale. Then Janet spotted something different about 20 steps from the truck. One rock contained several crystallized fossil forms, which immediately earned it a spot in the truck. A two-out-of-ten day can improve considerably when you find one thing that makes you say, “Okay, what the heck is THIS?”
Fossil from Montana Fossil from Montana
Meanwhile, Back at Camp ...
The next morning we decided to explore the private property where we were staying near Belfry, Montana. We had their blessing to look around, so we headed up the hill to see what we could find. At first, things weren't terribly encouraging. We worked our way toward a gully, looked at layer after layer of similar rock, and started thinking we might be headed for another morning of Leaverite.
Then, on the way back down, Janet spotted the first gastropods. Once we realized what was embedded in the rock, we carefully opened the matrix and found more fossils inside. We carried the first load back to the RV and did what any sensible people who had just hauled a pile of rocks down a hill would do—we went back up and got more.
By the time we finally stopped, we'd collected roughly 50 pounds of fossil-bearing rock. Sure, finding 50 pounds of cool rocks is exciting; carrying 50 pounds of cool rocks down a hill is not so much.
The irony wasn't lost on us. After hours of researching rockhounding locations, we found some of the most interesting material of the trip practically outside the RV.
Mountain Goat Jim and the Nephrite
Not every good find was a complete surprise. We also had permission to return to the area where Jim had found Nephrite Jade on a previous trip. Since the location had been good to us before, it seemed worth another look. Unfortunately, the Nephrite had not used the intervening year to move itself any closer to the road.
Up the slope Jim went, entering the mountain goat phase of his life. The climb paid off, and he found another handful of nice Nephrite pieces to bring home. Of course, there's a small flaw in the excitement of finding rocks while climbing a steep hill: every rock you gleefully add to your bags has to come back down with you. And rocks seem to gain weight on the return trip. We haven't found the scientific study proving this yet, but we're confident it's true.
By then, a pattern was beginning to emerge. We had maps full of carefully researched public locations, yet some of the finds we were most excited about were coming from places where we'd asked, “Would you mind if we looked around?”
According to the Map, There's a Mine Here
The Pryor Mountains gave us an excellent lesson in the difference between researching a rockhounding location and actually standing there. We had coordinates for an old mine where fluorite and vanadinite had reportedly been found, so off we went to find the treasure.
We found the mountain. That part went extremely well! The mine was another story.
According to our research, it was there. According to the mountain, it was not. We hiked around looking for it because nothing inspires optimism quite like a GPS pin somebody put on the internet, but eventually we admitted defeat. Jim did pick up something that might be fluorite, although it's still sitting comfortably in the “Maybe” category.
We also had a location marked for Marcasite. Technically, we probably could have reached it. All we had to do was go down a steep, brush-covered ravine, climb up the other side, go back down, climb up again, and then eventually reverse the entire process to return to the truck.
After pondering the route, we decided that Leaverite can apparently apply to coordinates as well.
Elsewhere in the Pryors, we found some geodes, colorful chert and chalcedony, more fossils, and other pieces that looked interesting enough to bring home. Now that we've had a chance to look at some of them again, let's just say the mountains probably aren't missing everything we took.
Bear Canyon: 1, Truck: 0
Then there was Bear Canyon. We knew beforehand that the road could get rough, but rough is one of those words that means different things to different people. And we're not lightweights. But the farther we drove, the more adventurous things became until we reached rock slabs that were two or three feet high. At that point, we realized we had found the precise place where rockhounding could turn into truck shopping.
Since a new truck wasn't in the budget, we parked.
We explored what we could safely reach and found some pretties, along with a few pieces that looked like Dryhead Agate. At another stop, we found more shell fossils and possibly fossilized coral, but due to the weather, we had to leave. The wind and rain started because Bear Canyon didn't think the road had made its point strongly enough on the way in.
We returned another day and tried a different area, but once again the results were modest. The honey hole remained stubbornly absent.
Apparently, We Were Also on a Wildlife Tour
Rocks weren't the only things we encountered along the way. There were the usual animals, but also an angry bull snake, a llama, a kitty who almost hitched a ride, and one fuzzy creature we never did positively identify before it ran off. Oh, and some cool dragonflies.
At one point, the whole trip started to feel a bit like a petting zoo—just one where you probably shouldn't pet anything.
Dragonfly on Jim's sock Pronghorns eyeing us curiously Llama at the gas station
And a couple of members of the wildlife tour weren't quite finished with us ...
We Interrupt This Rockhounding Trip for a Cow ... and a Bull
Near the end of the trip, we stayed in Spearfish, South Dakota, and headed into the Black Hills before eventually making our way toward an old mining area just across the Wyoming border. This particular road required four-wheel drive, and Janet started filming the truck's forward camera display as we crawled uphill, watching the terrain and tire tracks while the truck bounced and tilted its way along.
Everything was going just fine, assuming your definition of fine includes voluntarily driving up a mountain like this, when another obstacle appeared ahead of us. A cow was standing directly in our path, obviously unconcerned that we had rocks to find and places to be. We stopped; Bessie eventually decided we could pass, and our rockhounding expedition continued.
On another day, we encountered Elmer, a bull we spotted watching us from atop a hill while we were looking for Devil's Toenails (Gryphaea). No problems until we were driving out, when he slowly swaggered across the road and decided the tasty snack he desired was RIGHT HERE, in front of us.
(If you'd like to see the climb—and the cow who briefly took control of our schedule—we shared the videos on our Facebook page, where you can see the cow cameo here.)
Anyhow, when we finally reached the mining area, we discovered that getting there was only half the problem. The hillside was heavily overgrown, and shorts and T-shirts weren't exactly ideal clothing for pushing through the vegetation. We looked around the areas we could safely reach and added the rest to our growing Next Time list. Successful rockhounding sometimes means knowing when to admit that you dressed for the wrong adventure. We did get some sparkly mica, so all was not lost.
And Then There Was the Petrified Wood
One of our last stops brought us back to private property where we'd been permitted to hunt. By this point in the trip, we'd become much more selective about what earned a ride home. Agates, chalcedony, and quartz still got our attention, but every rock now had to pass a much stricter test: Do we really want to haul this back to the truck?
Then Janet dug out one that made the answer pretty easy. It was several pounds, ringed, and oddly shaped. Once we turned it over, we could see what appeared to be a small branch or growth extending from the side. Suddenly, this wasn't just another rock.
It may be a substantial piece of petrified wood, although it still needs a good cleaning and closer examination before we're ready to say what we've got. That's part of the fun of bringing rocks home from the field. Sometimes the excitement isn't knowing exactly what you've found—it's coming across something and saying, “Ohhh, look at THIS!”
Our Third Rockhound
There was one member of our traveling party we haven't mentioned yet.
Ragnar came along for the entire adventure, although his approach to rockhounding was far less strenuous than ours. While we climbed hills, dug in the dirt, searched riverbanks, and hauled rocks back to the truck, our Supreme Leader generally remained in the fifth wheel overseeing operations. And flies. And the neighbors' dogs.
As you can see, the responsibility was completely exhausting.
Sometimes, You Just Have to Ask
We never did find the honey hole. We did come home with Nephrite Jade, fossils, agates, quartz, possible petrified wood and fluorite, and enough mystery rocks to keep us cleaning, cutting, and scratching our heads for quite some time.
Looking back, though, one of the most interesting lessons from the trip had very little to do with identifying rocks. We spent a lot of time researching public collecting locations because we know we can explore them, but some of our favorite finds this year came from places where we'd simply asked if we could look around. Not every great rockhounding spot is going to appear in a Google search, on a map, or in somebody else’s list of coordinates.
Always ask before entering or collecting, respect the answer if it’s no, follow whatever rules the landowner gives you, and leave the property as you found it. Being allowed to explore someone else’s land is a privilege, and we appreciate the people who granted us the ability to do so.
So after several weeks, hundreds of miles, questionable roads, disappearing mines, pounds of fossils and rocks, a couple of bovine roadblocks, more Leaverite than we needed to find, and absolutely no honey hole, perhaps the biggest lesson of our 2026 rockhounding adventure is also the simplest ...
Just ask.
And if they say yes? Bring a bucket!
Stay Sparkly! ✨
The jujujems Team
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