Wow that is an awesome head! It always makes me stop and try to imagine the last person who held it and lost it. Some of my best finds were when I was hunting. Cool to think they were hunting too probably when they lost it.
Never heard the term “clear arrow head” Whats it mean?
On Long Island NY you might find a stone one or a stone paint pot if your digging near a river.
Probably knapped from clear obsidian. If you look at the point, it is transparent.
Thinking its made of obsidian, lava glass.
When we were out in Yellowstone we didnt get to see it as its closed to the public but there is a cliff face that has a vein of obsidian running through it.
For natives of the area it was a Mecca of sorts where they would come and gather material to knap some crazy ass sharp shit.
What is pretty cool is they can source these artifacts from where the obsidian was quarried if there has been samples taken there and they are in the database. Also with hydration rind dating they can also tell when the artifact was made. Glass Butte in Oregon is loaded with obsidian that you can collect off BLM. Artifacts cannot be collected and removed however.
I think this one is quartz, but i may be mistaken. Was found on a worked hill overlooking a spring .
Do you know how popular obsidian is here in NC? We have alot of white quartz rock in our fields, i was assuming this was a very clear piece of that..? If it is what resembles a Hardaway-Palmer point of clear quartzite, that would make it roughly 7,500- 9,000 yrs old, according to projectilepoints.net .
Read an article about obsidian maybe 30 years ago. Supposedly three times sharper than surgical steel. Some plastic surgeons use obsidians blades.
^^^Didnt know that this was from NC. I live near Charlotte and we have lots of white quartz here as well. We used to find a lot of points down near Wateree lake in SC. It just so happened that my Uncles lot was located near where there must have been a camp. Lots of white quartz points. That’s a nice find that you have there.
Its true. Apparently obsidian breaks to the molecule. Way sharper than steel.
Obsidian Cliff - Yellowstone National Park (U.S. National Park Service)
Obsidian Cliff is the primary source of obsidian in a large concentration of Midwestern archeological sites.
www.nps.gov 
I would really like to have a video, unfortunately, I do not. I will try to paint a mental picture.
The English House Wench goes to bed. 5 minutes later she comes in the living room with a tissue.
I am relaxing on the couch.
"What kind of bug is this?" As! She opens said tissue directly over me she says:
"He is still alive..."
Now when those words left her mouth, said bug, shot out of the tissue at what I can only assume was just under the speed of sound, as I did not discern an audible Sonic crack.
As he disappeared under my shirt, I made every effort to match his speed and I did hear an audible crack. At the time, I thought I had in fact exceeded the speed of sound, but later as I thrashed my shirt against my bare chest and back, I realized I was stumbling. The crack was in fact my bad knee, which had popped like a CCI Stinger.
Delighted at her good fortune to witness such a display of dexterity from a fat near cripple, the Wench began a series of barrel laughs and snorts.
I began a string of obscenities, and inquired as to why she didn't at least stun the fast bastard with a little squish, before simply releasing it unmolested and vibrant, onto my unprotected crotch.
In her most eloquent Nottinghamshire dialect:
"I don't like to squish them.......So what kind was he?"
"Well....judging by what I could tell in the commotion....a £¥¢π√%© mother @#$@¥^{¢ fast one is what kind it was!"
The English House Wench goes to bed. 5 minutes later she comes in the living room with a tissue.
I am relaxing on the couch.
"What kind of bug is this?" As! She opens said tissue directly over me she says:
"He is still alive..."
Now when those words left her mouth, said bug, shot out of the tissue at what I can only assume was just under the speed of sound, as I did not discern an audible Sonic crack.
As he disappeared under my shirt, I made every effort to match his speed and I did hear an audible crack. At the time, I thought I had in fact exceeded the speed of sound, but later as I thrashed my shirt against my bare chest and back, I realized I was stumbling. The crack was in fact my bad knee, which had popped like a CCI Stinger.
Delighted at her good fortune to witness such a display of dexterity from a fat near cripple, the Wench began a series of barrel laughs and snorts.
I began a string of obscenities, and inquired as to why she didn't at least stun the fast bastard with a little squish, before simply releasing it unmolested and vibrant, onto my unprotected crotch.
In her most eloquent Nottinghamshire dialect:
"I don't like to squish them.......So what kind was he?"
"Well....judging by what I could tell in the commotion....a £¥¢π√%© mother @#$@¥^{¢ fast one is what kind it was!"
Wimens.....
I still believe you are a lucky man to have her Mr Chikin.
Even with occasional questionable acts such as that.....?
I still believe you are a lucky man to have her Mr Chikin.
Even with occasional questionable acts such as that.....?
Love those clear ones.
we collect obsidian cobbles as mother stones and during quiet times in Elk Camp, we sit around and Knapp points.
the ones that crack or aren’t perfect we dump in a midden pile at the base of a tree. We camp in the same spot year after year.
We are there during archery season, so that’s a month of accumulation each year.
When we return it is pretty obvious that someone has dug through the pile.
Sort of like that old joke about the piper cub that crashed in the cemetery. The numbers of bodies found keeps climbing!
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