They are specters from our collective childhood, observed from behind half-finished sandcastles. They move purposefully along the beach, captivating young onlookers with the promise of magical treasure.

They are metal-detector guys. The archetypal loners. Sealed off from the world by giant headphones, happy to reward young tagalongs with a bottle cap.

“It’s my Zen,” says Alex Kelley, President of the Bay Area Searchers. For many, like Kelley, the hunt itself is a meditative experience, a way to escape from the daily grind.

Though metal detecting is a solitary pursuit, the hobby can be surprisingly social. Dedicated hunters compete against each other in time trials, searching the beach for pre-seeded targets. Many participate in clubs, where they meet up for show-and-tell and swap war stories about returning lost engagement rings and having close encounters with dog mess.

The activity hits a sweet spot in the Venn diagram of escapism, community, imagination and outdoor strolls. Behind the metal-detector stigma are thoughtful people seeking some atypical thrills.

Wired recently spent time with some avid beachcombers in the Bay Area. We learned the ropes and the lingo, and saw what keeps them searching. Read on for an introduction to the tools of the trade and the inner life of the modern treasure hunter.

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