Money does grow on trees after all.

Posted on October 25, 2013 by waterhigh

So green. Who knew? Click on this to read—

Dinosaur for Sale

Posted on October 22, 2013 by waterhigh

Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Chest

Wondering what to do if you find Fenn’s treasure chest? Just a thought, if you have room in your basement? barn? museum?
Myself? I’d keep the jewels. Just what is a coat bracelet, I wonder?

Trowels and Trenches

I need to borrow £600,000.

Or AU$1,006,629.

Don’t worry, I’m good for it.

Mark the 27^th of November in your calendars everyone. That is the day that Misty, a Diplodocus longus dinosaur goes up for auction at the Summer Place auction house in Billingshurst, England. The 18m long and 6m high dinosaur is estimated to sell for somewhere between £400,000- 600,000 and is one of only a handful of Diplodocus’ in the world. In fact the bones of the Diplodocus are so rare that even London’s Natural History Museum displays a plaster cast that is based on two separate skeletons.

It took a team nine weeks to excavate Misty, after the fluke discovery of the female specimen outside of the Dana Quarry in Wyoming. Famed dinosaur hunter Raimund Albersdoerfer was undertaking an excavation in the quarry when he sent his sons to investigate the area, not expecting them to…

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I Know You’re Out There Somewhere, Somewhere . . .

Posted on October 3, 2013 by waterhigh

Now playing on a continuous loop in my head—

The Moody Blues

Oh, yes, I know you’re out there somewhere, somewhere, somewhere,

Oh, yes, I know I’ll find you somehow . . . .

They’re playing in Peoria next Monday. Yay!

The Best of The Moody Blues (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Next up:

Once upon a time

In my wildest dreams . . . .

Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Chest

The Moody Blues Launch Fall Tour (myq105.cbslocal.com)
‘The Thrill of the Chase’: Why Forrest Fenn sparked a treasure hunt for $3-million worth of gold and artifacts (news.nationalpost.com)

A very very very bad frog joke

Posted on September 26, 2013 by waterhigh

A Australian Green Tree Frog (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

For grins and giggles:

A very very very bad frog joke.

(I realize that this may be lost on you millennials… just pass on by.)

Jumpin’ Jack Flash! Mick Jagger to be a great-grandad? (q13fox.com)
Sticking under Wet Conditions: The Remarkable Attachment Abilities of the Torrent Frog, Staurois guttatus (plosone.org)
In pictures: Colourful poison arrow frogs and other rainforest rockstars invade Museum of Nature (metronews.ca)
Tiny Frog Swallows Sound (guardianlv.com)

How A 3200-Mile Loop Became a 4000-Mile Crazy 8 (The End)

Posted on September 16, 2013 by waterhigh

When I wished Forrest Fenn a Happy Birthday, I mentioned I was in Cody. He asked about my search and by Saturday, when I was halfway up/down the Gallatin, he invited to meet him for a cup of coffee. Wow, I thought.

Now, I’d told my husband I’d be home by Friday, unless I found the chest and needed to swing by Santa Fe to return a bracelet to Mr.Fenn. Hmm.

I could do both if I knocked off a visit to a hot springs and a great restaurant I had reservations at. Hmm.

I’d also brought my book hoping to get it signed if the opportunity presented itself. Hmm.

“Life is short and getting shorter” said Mr. Fenn. Hmm.

Mr. W’s phone was off on Sunday. By the time I got ahold of him, I’d already flown by Billings, Casper, Laramie, and was maybe nearing Denver.

“Cool,” he said. I told him he was invited, too, but he’s still busy supporting my hobbies.

Serendipity. A southern suburb with a gas station, a car wash, and across the street, a great steak salad for a late lunch. I didn’t recognize anything of the Denver I knew in the mid-80’s.

Back on the road, it was dark when I passed through the mountains north and east of Santa Fe. I had reservations on the west side and thought I’d have no trouble finding the Fenn estate the next morning.

Wrong. I plugged in the address but it wanted to send me about 12 miles back east of town. Time was getting short, so I stopped at a place I was sure could help: The Collected Works Bookstore.

Fortunately, the guy at the desk knew it was only a couple miles away, and gave me a start in the right direction. Museum Hill would be ‘too far’. That’s where I turned around, but at least I’d passed the correct address.

(Was anyone else a bit claustrophobic with the narrow streets, adobe walls, and one way streets in old Santa Fe, or is it just that I’m used to seeing horizons?)

I turned in the drive and pushed a button. The gate opened and I pulled forward. I grabbed my book and camera, and hoped the big dog was friendly.

Yes, those are Post-Its in my book.

Mr. Fenn met me at the door, and I was escorted into the big room, familiar because I’d seen Dal’s pictures: the wooden Indian by the fireplace, the ancient books on the shelves, the buffalo skull. Bells. Baskets. Beautiful things.

He was curious about my search; I was curious about everything. The time flew. Then, I took a couple pictures, he signed my book, and a “homely girl” got a kiss. No. How does it go? I mean, smile. (Is it too late for braces?)

I headed home with my treasures. Amarillo, Tulsa, St. Louis, Bloomington…..

Friday evening, I was greeted with a vase full of roses, happy chickens, and fresh peaches on the tree. More treasures. They don’t all fit in a chest.

Life is good.

West Yellowstone & Up the Gallatin (Part IV)

Posted on September 12, 2013 by waterhigh

In the morning, the first item on my agenda was to find Dal’s cache in the woods. His GPS coordinates were of no use to me, but fortunately his instructions were clear, and if precisely followed would lead me to the stash with confidence. It also didn’t hurt that I’d seen the photos on his blog.

I’d brought a set of ‘important bear info’ playing cards to leave in the tub. To make room, I had to choose between a black thing and electric tape. I took the tape. Good to go.

The rest of the morning was spent driving down the Madison and checking out the earthquake damage. I’d been there the day it happened and again when I was ten. (See Terremoto entry.)

The Hebgen Lake Dam and fishing access was closed for construction/repairs.

Possibility of water high?!

Surprising how the rocky scars still look fresh. In fact, across from the Earthquake Visitor’s Center (also CLOSED), I saw an omega blaze and looked quickly down.

OMG! The Omega?

Okay, between me and the hidden treasure chest was a rushing river, boulders, and a steep ravine. Hmm. I’ll come up from below, I thought. I drove down to where the valley opened up. A longer hike than I’d be doing alone in the heat. Maybe not ever.

I turned around and drove back up the ‘hill’. Now, there were 2 empty cars parked along the road. For a moment I panicked and thought they were just ahead of me on the chase. I parked and started hiking down the slippery slope across from my blaze. And then I saw them.

It turned out, they were ‘just’ fishing.

I had some time to think there on the slide. The more I gazed across the river, the more I realized that spot was just not possible to reach safely. Not for a child, a person of eighty, or even one approaching 60. Anyone in between, go for it. You have my blessing. Go in peace.

Instead of heading north, I went back into West Yellowstone for bear spray, just in case I got brave enough to get in the wood. And, just to remind myself of the vertical factor this winter while I’m poring over maps, I picked up a 3-D molded plastic version map of the area. I think we still have a Denver/Rockies one from 28 years ago.

I inquired of the volunteers at tourist info as to where Watkins Creek was. In addition to printing me a map, they mentioned a $6k per week Firehole. I started out for it, but the tarred road was scant.

I made it a bit past the nice boat launch/campground before I was jarred into turning around. Clearly the movie stars they’d mentioned must fly in.

I only had 6.7 more miles of gravelly washboard to go. If Mr. W gets that pickup, we’ll try it next year. Plus, that will give me an extra year to get into shape to reach those aptly (?) named lakes above there. *** Is there an air ambulance available for the over-confident? she wonders.

After lunch, I headed up Highway 191, the Gallatin River valley, to the Soldier’s Chapel. I’d recently read The Bloody Bozeman, and have to agree with the person who mentioned that Bozeman ought to be named Story. Bozeman was rather reckless with other people’s lives.

I headed south to where I’d made a reservation for the night. A welcome thunderstorm passed through that night and drenched the area. Helpful to those battling a fire or two.

I planned to attend the chapel service Sunday morning, and then, if I was really brave, I just might have (probably not), ridden the ski lift/tram up Lone Mountain before heading to parts north.

But, there was an email waiting for me. From Forrest Fenn.

*** If I had kept up with Dal’s blog the day I was packing, I would have realized that a couple of fearless, and healthy, searchers had made the trek up the mountain to not just Lower Coffin Lake, but the Upper one as well. So, maybe we don’t need that pick-up truck. . . .

30. Leaving Yellowstone and heading west (fugious.wordpress.com)
Smokejumper injured on Montana-Idaho border fire (ktvb.com)

Where It’s Not — Part Three

Posted on September 7, 2013 by waterhigh

In the morning, I drove through the tunnel, past Mummy Cave, and the BB Dam again. About the time I stopped to pay my entrance fee to Yellowstone Park, I was struck by a blaze — the blinding kind you get before a migraine, if you’re subject to auras.

At home my remedy would have been to boil water, brew green tea with half a capsule of feverfew, and hit a dark room with an eye mask. On a 2-lane winding highway, I popped a cola for caffeine and downed Excedrin, and took a time out at a pull-out. Then I spent more time at the ranger station/stuffed animal museum. In the shade.

The ranger called the lone bison I’d seen a “fed-up bull” — fed up of fighting the young bulls in the herd, and at an age where he prefers to go it alone.

There were 5 fires burning in Yellowstone Park at the time, a few pull-outs were closed, but no roads closed that day. I remembered the summer of 1988 and the massive fires in Yellowstone. We could smell the smoke all the way over in Minnesota.

Fishing Bridge

So far, going solo hadn’t been a problem (except for getting creeped out by a guy in a van who asked me where I was from. He had just been staring at my license plate, so I thought it was not a real question. This happened back at the Oregon Trail ruts and Register Cliff where we seemed to be the only tourists out in the 105 degree weather. Not a good sign. Maybe it was nothing, but I didn’t like being followed.)

West Thumb of Yellowstone Lake

Another reason I’m going to bring Mr. W next time came about at Isa Lake.

Lily Pads at the Continental Divide? Is there a frog?

I really wanted to wade into the lily pads to see what was at the end of an under-water marker, but a couple (searchers??) from Salt Lake City was kinda killin’ time, like they were waiting for me to leave.

I won, but then realized, typical female, I didn’t have the right shoes.

Also, I saw strange underwater bugs, a possible fluke-wiry worm, and a very fast little pond-hugging, mole-nosed rodent running towards me. The picture that was supposed to of him is a blur of me jumping out of his way.

Yikes!

I don’t think I screamed.

From there, not far but too far to walk, I arrived at Old Faithful at the perfect time. People were streaming towards it so I parked and joined them. Another geyser was putting on a show at the same time. Serendipity strikes again.

And then, something else. Remember I left home without a GPS? The only place I might have needed it this trip was in the parking lot at Old Faithful Lodge and Visitor Center. It’s changed in the last 15 years apparently. The other thing about migraines is the mental shadow they leave you with. It took me an extra 15 minutes (or so) to find my car, and then I scared a poor family picnicking next to it when the alarm went off.

I passed another lone bison as I continued west. My heart goes out to the old and lonely.

On to the much discussed Firehole River and Canyon. Is it “Where Warm Waters Halt”? I couldn’t say.

And then, of course, the much touted Madison River, which had lots of giant boulders lying around.

I tarried as much as I wanted that day. I had a reservation for that night in West Yellowstone, so no need to hurry. Just tried to absorb the beauty and if a potential solution to one of the TTOTC 9 clues presented itself, all the better.

No treasure yet, but so far, so good. Any day that doesn’t involve a trip to the hospital is a big plus.

25 years after 1988, Yellowstone reflects change wrought by fire (ravallirepublic.com)
August pushes Yellowstone visitation over 2.5 million (billingsgazette.com)

Today Show TTOTC Clue Update

Posted on August 28, 2013 by waterhigh

It sounds like Forrest and the Today Show people have been in touch. Just waiting on Matt Lauer for the timing of the next clue. Getting ready . . . .

People playing Cluedo, a deduction boardgame (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“One of These Things Is Not Like the Other”

Posted on July 31, 2013 by waterhigh

SESAME STREET*Google (Photo credit: COG LOG LAB.)

I’ve got that Sesame Street song in my head. It’s been laying tracks for a while now–the subconscious working on the conscious.

“One of these things just doesn’t belong. . .”

Result: I’ve come to the conclusion that no way were the Fenn’s hungry enough to eat meadowlarks during the Depression. The father had a college degree, steady employment, and apparently, plenty of fish and potatoes. Besides, who would go to all that trouble. I’m going to attribute that to the 15% of the memoir he made up, and add it to the list of questions I’d love to ask him someday. Like, when I drop off the bracelet. (I wish.)

So. Why is that story in the book? Four meadowlarks and a scissortail.

“Can you tell me which thing is not like the other . . .”

Full houses in poker (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Why are four cards and a joker mentioned? Why are there four nuggets and a frog, and a coin, sitting on the map?

“. . . Before I finish my song?”

English: Pot of gold under post! Consolation prize after a soaking. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Or at least before I head west for The Thrill of the Chase.

A visit to the book factory (hotkeyblog.com)
Pic Shows End Of The Rainbow (No Pot Of Gold) (now100fm.cbslocal.com)

New Clue –Forrest Fenn on NBC Today Show

Posted on June 28, 2013 by waterhigh

“The treasure is not hidden in Idaho or Utah.”—–Forrest Fenn

English: Clearwater River near Orofino, Idaho (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Here’s the link:

http://www.today.com/news/keep-searching-fresh-clue-released-hunt-n-m-treasure-worth-6C10480482

Well. That narrows it down by 168,469 square miles. I can cross one trip off my list and write about where I was going to look.

Darn. It looked like a lot of fun. Wait. Maybe I’ll still go down that canyon. . . .

Today Show Clue Delayed

Posted on June 27, 2013 by waterhigh

Hard to corral . . .

Forrest Fenn has notified Dal that the Today Show clue won’t be given until Friday morning, about 0505. (Click on Thrill of the Chase blog for the full message.)

I’d guess that’s Mountain Time zone.

Looking forward to it.

Meanwhile, back to my new decoder ring. ; )

(Re–(Updated) Clues Blues

Posted on June 19, 2013 by waterhigh

Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Ches

{Now scheduled for Friday, June 28th at 0505 Fenn Time}

For those of you not familiar with the Chase, Forrest Fenn has been giving out one new clue a month on the Today Show. It was scheduled for June 17th but got postponed. Not for the first time. Last month they made him get up at 3 something in the morning two days in a row. “Truck trouble,” they claimed. (Although I suspect the crew was out searching for the treasure on the extra day.) ~~It’s now scheduled for June~~ ~~27th~~ ~~(Not~~ the 28th)according to Stephanie (What’s A Blaze) at Chasechat.

So far the clues have been:

helpful. Like don’t dig up old outhouses (people apparently thought that’s what “putting in below the home of Brown” meant. Not what came to my mind.
common sense. Like, don’t dig up a cemetery. Again, not something that crossed my mind.
vague/general. Like, it’s above 5000 feet. Not a surprise since he said it was in the Rocky Mountains.

Actually, I don’t mind the generality of the extra hints. I don’t want to hear that it’s been found already. I still plan to head West as soon as we get the chance. I say we. I’m waiting on my husband to clear his schedule. He’s mildly amused by my new hobby. Also, I haven’t exactly figured out the poem yet….

Forrest Fenn says all one needs is the poem, which is in the book.

Meanwhile, enjoy the Thrill of the Chase as you search/seek/solve/obsess …..