First Steps on Fresh Soil: My Guide to Metal Detecting on New Fields

The sun was just peeking over the horizon as I pulled up to the gate of a field I’d never detected before. The grass was still damp with dew, and there was a slight chill in the air that made me glad I’d remembered to bring my thermos of tea. I sat in the car for a moment, sipping the warm brew and contemplating the expanse of green before me. A new field is always exciting – who knows what secrets it might be hiding?

But where to start? That’s always the question, isn’t it? Over the years, I’ve developed a bit of a system for approaching a new field, and I thought I’d share it with you. It’s not foolproof, mind you, but it’s served me well enough.

First things first, though. Before you even think about swinging that detector, make sure you’ve got permission from the landowner. There’s nothing worse than getting excited about a new site only to be told to clear off halfway through your first sweep. I always make sure to have a chat with the farmer or landowner before I start. Not only is it the right thing to do, but they often have interesting information about the history of the field.

Doing Your Homework: The Advantages of Pre-Detecting Research

Once you’ve got permission sorted, it’s time for a bit of research. Now, I know some detectorists who like to go in blind, saying it adds to the excitement. And fair play to them, but I prefer to have a bit of background knowledge. I usually start with old maps. The local library or county records office can be a goldmine for these. I’m looking for any signs of old buildings, pathways, or boundaries that might not be visible today.

I also like to have a chat with the locals if I can. You’d be surprised how much information has been passed down through generations. Old Tom at the pub might remember his granddad talking about a fair that used to be held in that field every summer. That kind of information can be invaluable.

With the research done, it’s time to get out into the field itself. But before I even turn on my detector, I like to take a good walk around the perimeter. I’m looking for any features that might be interesting – slight rises or dips in the ground, areas where the grass looks different, or any visible remnants of old structures.

I also keep an eye out for any surface finds. After a good ploughing or a heavy rain, you’d be amazed at what can work its way to the surface. I once found a medieval coin just lying there on top of the soil, clear as day. It’s not common, mind you, but it’s always worth keeping your eyes peeled.

Choosing Your Starting Point: Where to Begin Your Detecting

Now, with the walkover done, it’s time to fire up the metal detector. But where to start? Well, if my research or walkover has highlighted any particularly promising areas, I’ll usually head there first. If not, I tend to start at one corner of the field and work my way across in a systematic pattern.

I always make sure to overlap my sweeps slightly. It’s better to go over the same bit of ground twice than to miss a strip entirely. And I try to keep my swing nice and level, and not too fast. It’s tempting to rush when you’re excited about a new field, but slow and steady wins the race in this game.

As I detect, I’m not just listening for signals. I’m also keeping an eye on the ground beneath my feet. The soil can tell you a lot if you know how to read it. Different coloured patches might indicate where buildings once stood, and subtle changes in the lay of the land can point to old boundaries or pathways.

Now, here’s a tip that’s served me well over the years: don’t ignore the “junk” signals, especially when you’re just starting on a new field. Yes, it’s probably just another bit of scrap iron, but digging these signals can give you a feel for the soil conditions and the depth of the finds. And every now and then, that “junk” signal turns out to be something special.

I remember one time, I was detecting a new field and kept getting these annoying signals that sounded like iron. I was tempted to ignore them, but something made me dig. Turned out to be a scatter of medieval arrowheads. Not valuable in themselves, perhaps, but they led me to the site of an old archery butts. You never know what a signal might lead to.

Tracking Your Finds: Using Technology to Map Your Discoveries

As you’re detecting, it’s crucial to keep track of your finds and their locations. Personally, I’ve found the TektoTrak app on my phone to be a game-changer. It allows me to mark the exact GPS coordinates of each find, categorise them, and even add photos and notes. This digital approach is not only more precise than physical markers, but it also helps me build up a detailed map of the field over time. I can easily see patterns emerging – like where the medieval finds cluster, or where I’m finding most of the Georgian-era coins. It’s brilliant for planning future detecting sessions and for sharing information with landowners or archaeologists if needed.

Don’t forget to take breaks, either. It’s easy to get caught up in the excitement and push on for hours without a rest, but that’s a surefire way to miss things. I like to stop every hour or so, have a sip of tea, and just look around. Sometimes, taking a step back can help you spot patterns or features you might have missed while you were focused on detecting.

Now, let’s talk about digging. When you get a good signal, it’s tempting to just plunge your spade in and start heaving soil about. But that’s a surefire way to damage finds and upset the landowner. I always pinpoint the exact position of the find using criss cross sweeps from different directions which allows me to see the exact location, and I then cut a neat plug of turf around the item that I can replace afterwards.

If the signal is still in the hole, I’ll use my pinpointer to locate it more precisely. Only then do I start carefully removing soil. I always put the soil on a bit of tarp or plastic sheeting – it makes it much easier to refill the hole neatly afterwards.

And speaking of refilling holes, make sure you do a good job of it. There’s nothing that’ll get you banned from a field quicker than leaving it looking like a moonscape. I always make sure the hole is filled in properly, the turf replaced, and tamped down. If you’re detecting on pasture, take extra care – livestock can easily break a leg if they step in a poorly filled hole.

As the day goes on, I like to periodically review my finds and adjust my detecting strategy if needed. If I’m finding a lot of one type of artifact in a particular area, I might spend more time there. Or if I’m not finding much at all, I might move to a different part of the field.

It’s also worth remembering that not every day will be a gold-coin-and-Saxon-hoard kind of day. In fact, most won’t be. But every find, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, is a piece of history. That battered Georgian halfpenny might not be worth much in monetary terms, but it’s a tangible link to the people who worked this land hundreds of years ago.

As the sun starts to dip towards the horizon, I know it’s time to think about packing up. But before I do, I always take one last walk around the field. Sometimes, with the sun low in the sky, you can spot features in the landscape that weren’t visible earlier in the day.

Once I’m home, I make sure to clean and properly store all my finds. Even if it’s just a handful of buttons and a few old pennies, they all get carefully cleaned, labelled, and recorded. You never know when that information might come in handy.

I also like to spend some time reviewing the day while it’s still fresh in my mind. Where did I find most stuff? Were there any patterns to the finds? Are there areas I want to focus on next time? All of this gets jotted down in my detecting journal.

And finally, I always make sure to report any significant finds to the Portable Antiquities Scheme. It’s not just about following the law (though that’s important too), it’s about contributing to our understanding of history. That medieval buckle you found might be the missing piece in an archaeologist’s research.

So there you have it – my approach to detecting a new field. It might seem like a lot of work, and I suppose it is. But for me, that’s part of the joy of it. Metal detecting isn’t just about finding treasure (though that’s certainly nice when it happens). It’s about uncovering history, piece by piece, and helping to build a picture of how our ancestors lived and worked on this land.

As I sit here, writing this and sipping on a well-earned cuppa, I can’t help but feel excited about the next new field. What stories might it have to tell? What secrets might be hiding beneath its surface? There’s only one way to find out – and that’s to get out there and start swinging that detector.

But for now, I think I’ll put my feet up and dream about what tomorrow’s detecting might bring. Maybe that elusive hammered gold coin is just waiting for me in the next field. Or perhaps I’ll unearth a Roman hoard, or a Viking silver arm ring. Who knows? And isn’t that uncertainty, that possibility, part of what makes this hobby so addictive?

So here’s to new fields, to the thrill of the unknown, and to the stories waiting to be uncovered. Happy hunting, fellow detectorists. May your signals be strong and your finds be plentiful. And remember – every beep could be the start of a new adventure.