Gold miners can certainly be rugged individualists. We had one down the road. My dad felt sorry for him and did quite a few things to help him get through life. But
the guy wouldn't move out of a tiny shack full of holes in the wall, infested with packrats. He slept on a rotting mattress with a single unwashed blanket and drove a
dilapidated old hearse. He'd only work his mine a day or two a month, basically
just enough to buy a few cans of beans, rotgut wine, and to make enough money
to pay property taxes. When his liver finally failed and he passed away, his estranged son not only inherited the mine but the forty thousand acres surrounding
it. The old guy lived worse than most homeless people, but wouldn't sell off even
a single acre to support himself.