Here’s a link to an OUTSIDE article that lays out what is currently known about the finding of Forrest Fenn’s hidden chest.
And there’s this more comprehensive recent article from the UK, The Daily Mail:
By Abigail Thomas I’ve always been curious about why one chooses fiction for one story and nonfiction for another. For me it’s pretty simple—some stories need to be served straight up. That’s nonfiction. Others need more architecture, that’s fiction. It’s a decision best left to the gut. It has been a long time since I […]What Am I Doing? A Writer at Eighty — BREVITY’s Nonfiction Blog
Just sharing this author’s post because she’s wise.
And because a change has got to come to my site. There is no longer anything I find worthy of sharing in the ongoing saga of who found Fenn’s treasure, or where, or what did the clues in the poem mean…
I’ve been toying with switching over to a literary magazine format for quite awhile. In fact, I only started The Fenn Diagrams as an exercise to learn how to run a blog/website, an author’s website, to be more specific. And now, nine years on, (really?) it’s time to pull the plug. I held on thinking there would actually be some closure, certainly within a year of Forrest Fenn’s death. It hasn’t come. Sadly.
So the annual renewal is about to come due. I don’t know how soon I’ll flip this or how (cold turkey or melding or ???) But, if anyone wants to follow along, I think that the first story I post will be one that I shared with Forrest and he shared with Dal (and possibly Douglas Preston.) Both veterans approved. It was a story about a vet and had already been published in an online lit mag.
After that, maybe I’ll post the short story that won first place in the Minneapolis Writers Workshop Conference. But who knows?
Busy times here.
I’ve got to count all the bees in the hive here in the 100 acre wood.
Rumors and rumblings. So much mystery. So many theories.
Wyoming vs New Mexico?
Some searchers will gather this weekend in West Yellowstone. Maybe Amy will host something in Santa Fe next month. Maybe Forrest’s daughter will have something to share after the year of probate is over.
Some think Jack had help. Some think a group are keeping secrets. New books coming out. And just how many NDAs have been signed?
I’ve been taking a back seat for many reasons, but still: I’d love to know the solution to the clues in the poem and the hints in the books!!!
So, I’ll keep hanging around online in case there is news some day. And in the meantime, count my blessings in the gold I have in sunsets and prairie blossoms and the honey in the hives.
This may be as close to closure that we searchers will come. For now, anyway.
I’m happy to hear his story and understand his desire to remain anonymous, but a certain litigant and judge have made that impossible.
FYI. Dal is shutting down his site, The Thrill of the Chase. (A current message from Shiloh today.)
Dal has made Forrest’s Scrapbooks available to anyone who wishes to download them.
And now, let’s let Fenn and his family rest in peace.
Searchers (not “finders”) gathered for a weekend of fun.
Not until we were well on our way home, just ahead of the massive snow storm, did we hear the news of Fenn’s passing.
One treasure found. One treasure lost.
Maybe, maybe not.
West Yellowstone and Yellowstone Park.
Cynthia is orchestrating it. Dal is presenting. Toby is streaming it. Fun and games. Picnic. Brunch. And mixing it up at Bullwinkle’s.
A story almost a hundred years old. A soldier, wounded inside and out, walks out of a facility and, in time, finds healing.
Jump to today. Same story. New name.
I’m only in my second year of beekeeping but I get it.
Bees are mesmerizing. So organized, with a uniform goal of survival and yet independent.
And share with us such sweet rewards.
The photo of Forrest Fenn looking over the contents of the found treasure chest shows, in my opinion, silty sand around the rim of the open box. Like what you’d expect if it had sat in a river bed for ten years or so.
A line from the poem includes “There’ll be no paddle up your creek, just heavy loads and water high.” I’ve used Water High as my screen name, I chose it quickly when setting up this (my first) web site.
After that, during my endless investigations while trying to solve the clues in the poem, I learned that navigable waters are public property, even when they flow through private property. Definitions of such are subjects of interminable legal battles, such as the recently-overturned claim by the EPA that if a rainstorm leaves a puddle, it falls under their jurisdiction as a waters of the USA, blah, blah, blah.
What piqued my interest was how the edge of the river is determined. The river is deemed “public” land, up to the “high water mark.” Relevant, yes?
I imagine the chest was in a river bed, somewhere below the high water mark, making it legally on public land.
Verification? May be never, may be soon.
From another poem, once carved in stone in Wisconsin:
It may be never, it may be soon,
But I hope that it will be one afternoon.
I’ll hear a step on the creaking stair.
I’ll open the door, and you’ll be there.
It’s a start. A new message from Forrest Fenn reveals the treasure was hidden and found in Wyoming. That was my first solve.
Can’t wait to learn more someday.
The message below is posted on Dal’s site: The Thrill of the Chase.
SUBMITTED June 6th, 2020 by Forrest The treasure has been found It was under a canopy of stars in the lush, forested vegetation of the Rocky Mountains and had not moved from the spot where I hid it more than 10 years ago. I do not know the person who found it, but the poem…
Photographic images verifying that the chest was found and the turquoise and silver bracelet is on Forrest Fenn’s wrist again. The LINK.
The bracelet is unique in that the beads are mounted flat. A lot of history there.
Again, congratulations to the finder of the chest!
Good Friday Remembrance
My great-grandmother’s grandfather was an artist. Not sure when he was born, but her mother was born in 1837 in Braunschweig.
On the back of the drawing is a tempera (?) painting of the Wetterhorn alp from the glacier-filled valley at Grindelwald.
Have a blessed Easter.
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