Lake Michigan
Wishing hoping and praying for the safety of Randy and all those out searching for him.
Randy’s well thumbed copy of The Thrill of the Chase
April is Not the Cruelest Month
Category Archives: Rocky Mountains
Scouting New Mexico
My first visit to New Mexico was brief, less than 24 hours. I came down from Colorado on the dark side of the mountains one night and was glad to arrive (safely) at the hotel in Santa Fe. Not until morning did I try to find Fenn’s place. I had the address. I had GPS. I had an invitation. But. The car was leading me out of town, back into the mountains. The streets were one way this way and that. And narrow. No view. Claustrophobic.
I’d allowed plenty of time but it was fading fast. Aha, I thought. I’ll go to the bookstore. They must know where Forrest lives. When I asked the nice guy behind the counter in Collected Works, he said, “Why don’t you just call him? He’s in the phonebook.” I said just point me in the right direction. I made it on time and there he was, just like he says in the book. to show you care.
Cactus
I had to head home then, and didn’t explore the mountains north of Santa Fe, or even Santa Fe, for that matter. And between you and me, I was relieved to be out in the open sky again. I’m not a desert person. I don’t get it. Give me green; changing seasons; trees.
Still, when the approval/opportunity came up to return for one of Forrest’s book signings, I jumped at it. Leaving in the midst of harvest? Well, I’d pay the piper later. Short notice, but what did I need to pack, really? Camera, phone, the book to be signed. Good to go.
About halfway to Santa Fe, the climate changes, the trees disappear, the dirt turns red. Very red, and it was flying where the farmers worked it. And of course, it was hot when I left and got hotter the further west I went.
First tourist stop? The Blue Hole I’d read about. It would make living in the desert bearable. Almost. If I scuba dived.
Cold Water in Blue Hole
Another thing that makes it bearable, is altitude. (It turns out my car’s GPS does have an altimeter, after all. Wish I’d noticed it on my last trip to the Rocky Mountains, where I was gauging altitude by how short of breath I was.) By the time I hit 6,000 feet above sea level, Santa Fe, in other words, it was a bit cooler and a lot livelier. So. I had two or three days, depending on an incomplete arrangement, to explore the land of enchantment.
First up, the Enchanted Circle Scenic Byway loop around the mountains above Taos. It was by (fortunate) chance that I chose to drive the loop clockwise that Sunday, since there was some sort of mountain bike event and dozens of bikers were taking it counter-clockwise. Nine or ten thousand feet above sea level – I don’t know how they do it. (A couple of them looked like they were wondering if they could do it.) My car didn’t care for the altitude, either. The capless fuel flap didn’t want to give. Thank you, kind station attendant!
I knew I wanted to visit the Vietnam Veterans Memorial at Angel Fire. (See this post.)
And this.
And then I thought I’d stop at the Rio Grande Visitor Center on my way back to Santa Fe, but I made a wrong turn and ended up here.
Facing this,
One lane bridge
and, nearby, 
Seriously. Bears, again?
Actually, it wasn’t bears that scared me away.
New Mexico Museum of Art
I stuck to Santa Fe proper on Monday and saw the most amazing “painting” made of found things (think Forrest’s Holiday Ornament Contest) in the New Mexico Museum of Art. Pansy Stockton (1895 – 1972) used things like bark, moss, twigs, and so forth and created beautiful images that from a distance looked finely painted. The one on display was of a waterfall, and the milkweed silk gleamed perfectly as falling water.
Pirates – Captain Hawkes Sets Sail
As I played tourist, I scouted for parking for the evening event at La Fonda, remembering the difficulty I’d had on my first visit to Santa Fe.
Miracle Stairway
Monday evening was the book signing and the chance to meet some fellow treasure seekers, one of whom brought a box of fabulous French pastries to share!
La Fonda Blaze
Arrangements fell into place for Tuesday evening, so I had the day to explore more of the mountains north of Santa Fe.
66,000 Links North of Santa Fe
In particular, the Ski Basin and the Audubon park.
And then, when it was time to head home, I saw the blaze.
Morning Blaze Over Santa Fe
Bears, Oh My!
Summer’s winding down and bears will be getting hungrier. Rethinking my entire Yellowstone area hiking plans. Hmmm. How far south do the grizzlies range?
Bears, oh my!
Cute story by Ryan Gebhart for Middle Grade readers about a boy and his grandpa. FICTION, fortunately!
Related articles
Discovering a real Jurassic Park
What a cool opportunity!
A ranch. Somewhere high in north-western Montana. We’re fly fishing in the baking heat, casting for trout, listening to the trickle of clear spring creeks and glimpsing sleek, fast-moving shapes in the shadows.
It should be relaxing, but I’m distracted. I discovered in a chance conversation with the rancher’s wife earlier in the morning that at least two dinosaurs are entombed in rock on their land and she promised a ride to where the university volunteers are digging – and spending the long scorching summer.
“Yeah, they’re all living up there in the rocks, right beside the rattlers,” said the woman with a real life Jurassic Park on her land. “Someone flew over the ranch in a hang glider years ago and discovered the site and they’ve been working on it on and off ever since.”
The Jeep bounced, rattled and shuddered its way over a track more suited to cowboys…
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Favorite Fennisms
A year ago, I set off on my first hunt for the Fenn treasure. I’d hoped to wait until I had a complete solve, but I knew that the snows come early on the northern Rockies. I was confident that the chest was hidden somewhere north and west of Yellowstone, but couldn’t rule out the rest of Wyoming, so off I wandered, with Mr. Waterhigh’s blessing (and/or his desire that I find the gold.)
I emailed Forrest from West Yellowstone and entertained him with my story of not having the right shoes at the waters at the Continental Divide in YNP.
Forrest’s response—
“You’re having too much fun.”
I next emailed him from the Gallatin Valley to wish him a Happy Birthday, and he invited me to Santa Fe for a cup of coffee.
Decision—
Hmmm?
a.) Should I stay on course and hike to a ‘water high’ with just the grizzlies for company, or
b.) should I skip my night at the hot springs, which I really wanted to visit, and set my GPS for Santa Fe?
Forrest said,
“Life’s short and getting shorter.”
Really. It was an easy choice.
Besides, I can always go back to Montana with Mr. Waterhigh.
(We spent our 24th or 25th or 26th anniversary there. Next month is our 35th, but he’s tied up this year….)
I was somewhere in Colorado before I got ahold of Mr. W to tell him of my change of plans. He suggested I pull the old Colombo thing as I was leaving. You know, pop back in the door, “Oh. Just one more question, Mr. Fenn….” and hope to catch him off guard with the perfect question.
I didn’t, of course. I was pretty much speechless….
So, I did find treasure south of the mountains when I got to meet the remarkable Forrest Fenn. All in all, it was a fantastic trip/chase.
Possibly my favorite Fennism is found in the Epilogue of his book, The Thrill of the Chase—
“And what I’ve learned that’s most important is that both countries and people should know enough to just leave other folks alone and do a better job of protecting our planet.”
— By the way, his 84th birthday is next Friday, so why not surprise him with a “Happy Birthday” wish from all 304 of you blog followers.
(He’s in the phone book, otherwise I wouldn’t post his address–
1021 Old Santa Fe Trail in Santa Fe, New Mexico)
DON’T just show up in his driveway! I’m thinking cards, flowers, chocolates, …. No wait. That’s me.
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Pieces of Eight
The Spanish dollar was the basis of the United States silver dollar. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Aaargh! Am I the only one who thought pieces of eight were made of gold?
There’s been a lot of pirate talk on the Thrill of the Chase blogs lately, and some pirates have already departed on their quest for the Forrest Fenn treasure hidden somewhere in the Rocky Mountains north of Santa Fe.
English: The two Manila galleons-the “Encarnacion” and “Rosario” during the five battles of La Naval de Manila in 1646. Original illustration by John Ryan M. Debil (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
So while I sit patiently in the Midwest trying to decode the clues in the poem, I continue to decorate my mind with new and possibly-never-useful facts. But then again, Mr. Fenn said nothing is too small to know (I still need to find his exact words on that.
Even though where I grew up “two bits” was not uncommonly used in place of “quarter”, for some reason I always pictured pieces of eight as heavy gold coins. Wrong. The Spanish gold coin was the “scudo” or “escudo” and equaled 16 reales (royals).
English: Spanish doubloon stamped as minted in 1798 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
The Spanish 8 reale coin was silver, and sometimes cut when smaller coins (i.e., a picayune was a half reale) were scarce. Hence, 2 bits, four bits, etc. One bit equaled 12 1/2 cents, which is coincidentally why, up until August of 2000, the New York Stock Exchange reported value changes in eighths.
Wait. Why base the NY stock market on the value of a Spanish coin?
Well, for starters, the colonies were forbidden, on pain of beheading and/or drawing and quartering, from making their own coins.
Secondly, the Spaniards had been reaping(?) the silver from Mexico to Chile since at least the 15th century. Spanish “Milled” or “Pillar” dollars were minted in places like Mexico City; Lima, Peru; Santiago, Chile; and, of interest to seekers of the Fenn chest, Santa Fe de Bogota, Columbia. (Quote: ” …in the mountains north of Santa Fe.” How far north, some have asked.)
English: Detail of Pillars of Hercules from Ta…
Holy Pompeii Pillars! I mean, Pillars of Hercules, at the Straights of Gibralter, gateway to the New World, as seen on the obverse of the coins milled in the Americas.
Back to the stock market question.
The Spanish silver dollar/real a de ocho was the most common coin in circulation in 1792 when the NYSE was founded. That was the same year Congress authorized the first Coinage Act, which established the mint in Philadelphia. Since it was going to take awhile to ‘print’ a lot of money, Spanish coins were made legal tender in 1793 and remained so until 1857, you know, after the California gold rush filled the coffers. And new regulations.
Next question: so why are old reales showing up in fields, clay pots, and creekbanks in Illinois? Like the 1/2 reales minted in Lima in 1755 and Nuevo Reino de Granada (Santa Fe de Bogota), and the 1702 to 1733 (?) vintage two bit piece.
(Hint: It’s good to look near really old tavern sites with a metal detector.)
Again, a couple answers. This was the frontier back in the day. Even before the War of Independence, the French, Spanish, and Brits were all over the place trying to plant flags and claim what wasn’t theirs. And up the Mississippi were the Spanish Mines—lead, not gold or silver.
And then, consider the sheer number of reales produced—between 1732 and 1821, 1.3 billion eight reale coins were minted at Mexico City alone. And they didn’t all make it to Madrid. The Manilla Galleons took them to Asia, as silver was the only commodity the Chinese accepted in trade.
1748 Seale Map of the Pacific Ocean w- Trade Routes from Acapulco to Manila – Geographicus – Pacific-seale-1743 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Shipwrecks. Pirates.
“Pizzas at eight! Pizzas at eight!
So, Dal, maybe you should go back to scuba diving for treasure and leave the Rocky Mountain treasure to us landlubbers.
Just kidding…..
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Link to Toby Younis’ Taping of Fenn Book Signing
In case you missed this on Dal or Stephanie’s blog, here is the link to see the Forrest Fenn book signing last Saturday at the Moby Dickens in Taos—-
Event video on YouTube: http://youtu.be/JXupxL4ovmY
Thanks to Toby for his excellent work!
Related articles
- The man who buried his treasure in a poem (telegraph.co.uk)
Adventurers
borrowed from Kelly @flateleven—Thank you.
Me to Mr Waterhigh: please, please, please, ….
I think once he’s done with his day job we could hit the road. If it’s not too cold. And I’ve got this puzzle solved, with confidence.
Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Chest
Related articles
- Forrest Fenn’s Book Signing in Santa Fe New Mexico (op2myst.wordpress.com)
- ‘The Thrill of the Chase’: Why Forrest Fenn sparked a treasure hunt for $3-million worth of gold and artifacts (news.nationalpost.com)
- How to Be a Modern Day Treasure Hunter (money.usnews.com)
Ask Me No Questions and I’ll Tell You No Lies
“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.”
Enzo to Andreas from The Dane
Cripple Creek, Colo., under martial law, 1894 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Thanks to Stephanie and Toby for sharing Tuesday’s book signing Q & A in Santa Fe. It’s the next best thing to being there.
Forrest Fenn was being Forrest Fenn—
a) generously giving a new clue: The treasure is not above 20,000 feet.** Not that any of the mountains appearing on his map in Too Far To Walk are nearly that high.
I remember wishing while out west that my car had an altimeter so I’d know when I was over 5,000 feet (a previous clue.)
b) sealing his lips when asked for too much information.
2012.07.17-IMG_5034 (Photo credit: martin_kalfatovic)
It looked like the entire trio (Fenn, Preston, and McGarrity) had a wonderful time. Thanks again!
Now, in other business—i.e. Dal’s current contest—
I sent him 2 pictures, so the caption you see goes more with the first one, not shown, which is a shadow of a small wooden chest dripping with (costume) jewelry, and it’s the only picture, shadow or otherwise, that anyone is going to see of my “chest” on the internet.
Secondly, and this shouldn’t need to be stated, the “jewel” I’m holding in picture two is fake, a piece of glass, just so no one gets the idea it would be worth their trip to the Midwest.
If I had something like that, it would be in a vault like this one which happens to be on an island somewhere in the Pacific. Just saying.
** A better clue, the treasure is not over 10,200 feet, appeared in a separate article recently.
Related articles
- The man who buried his treasure in a poem (telegraph.co.uk)
Dinosaur for Sale
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?
I need to borrow £600,000.
Or AU$1,006,629.
Don’t worry, I’m good for it.
Mark the 27th 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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Me.
Just because.
A student of mine recently sent me the following comic strip under the subject: “You”. I can’t help but agree and decided this was totally worth sharing:
West Yellowstone & Up the Gallatin (Part IV)
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 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.
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. . . .
Related articles
- 30. Leaving Yellowstone and heading west (fugious.wordpress.com)
- Smokejumper injured on Montana-Idaho border fire (ktvb.com)
The Fenn Diagrams 