Saturday morning tune in to NBC’s Weekend Today Show for the latest from Forrest Fenn, who hid a treasure chest somewhere in the mountains north of Santa Fe.
Here’s a link to the interview.
Here’s a link to the announcement on Dal’s site.
Category Archives: The Thrill of the Chase
How do Gemstones get their Colors ? — Know-It-All
Reblogged this because it’s kinda cool:
The most common cause of color in gemstones is the presence of a small amount of a transition metal ion. Most gemstones are allochromatic, meaning that they are colored by impurities or trace elements in their crystal structure.
100 Years Ago
On Summer Seas (1916)
The National Park Service was created one hundred years ago. Yellowstone preceded that, being designated in 1872. And once upon a time, I dreamed of being a forest ranger. My imagination had me up in a tower in a sea of green trees–a rather narrow view of the current job description.
Glacier National Park
One of the more unique rangers we’ve met was dressed to the hilt as a French voyageur and remained in character, impressing our youngest. I think there was even bread baking involved.
1868 Quetico Superior Route, Passing a Waterfall by Frances Anne Hopkins (Scene showing a large Hudson’s Bay Company freight canoe passing a waterfall, presumably on the French River. The passengers in the canoe may be the artist and her husband, Edward Hopkins, secretary to the Governor of the Hudson’s Bay Company.) (public domain)
That national park was the site of the Rainy Lake gold rush in the mid-1890’s. Northern Minnesota is not the first place I’d think of when searching for gold. Better odds, maybe, of finding Forrest Fenn’s treasure chest.
Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Chest
Portal
I won’t be making it to this year’s Fennboree, but if I could, I would take a moment in Santa Fe to get a look at an ancient wrought iron gate on East Palace Avenue, the site where dozens if not hundreds of scientists, mathematicians, and physicists, after meeting with gatekeeper Dorothy McKibben, disappeared from sight beginning in April 1943.
(Well, first I might stop at that French pastry shop at La Fonda where Amy bought those gorgeous treats for Forrest’s book signing last September.)
Said portal transported those invited to the site of the Los Alamos Ranch School on a mesa in New Mexico. You probably know (part of) the rest of the story, but for me, I learned a lot from a book called Bomb, by Steve Sheinkin, my newest favorite non-fiction author. Wow. He used to write textbooks for schools but kept notes on all the things they wouldn’t let him put in–fascinating stuff I should have learned. Sheinkin puts it together in a compelling and quick read. (Young Adult level but hey, who’s got time for an academic treatise these days?)
So back to the story: the race between the Americans and the Germans to develop the bomb; some very, very brave Norwegians on a mission; the spies who wanted to steal the plans for Stalin; the guys who just wanted to give it to the Russians so there wouldn’t be only one superpower in possession of the new and terrible weapon of mass destruction.
When I was young, my ideas of Russian spies were partly based on Boris and Natasha, and hearing intimations about the McCarthy era excesses. Somehow my public school history classes never got much past the Civil War by the end of the school year, hence the black holes in my knowlege. (No, that’s not a typo; it’s spelled Fenn’s way.)
[Side note: There was a Rocky and Bullwinkle episode titled Buried Treasure. Hmm. Frostbite Falls?]
I could also rave about Sheinkin’s newest book, Most Dangerous: Daniel Ellsberg and the Secret Viet Nam War. I have no excuse for not knowing or remembering more about the topic, having been of school age when it was in the newspapers, except that the facts didn’t all make it into the media at the time. I wish that weren’t still true. History gives us perspective if we’d only choose to look at the parallels in our own day. Does your view of Ellsberg color your impression of Snowden? What caused Benjamin Arnold to switch sides? Had you even heard of the Port Chicago 50?
Do you agree with Abraham Lincoln?
“I am a firm believer in the people. If given the truth, they can be depended upon to meet any national crisis. The great point is to bring them the real facts.”
(Check out Steve Sheinkin’s other books like King George: What Was His Problem? or The Port Chicago 50: Disaster, Mutiny, and the Fight for Civil Rights or Lincoln’s Grave Robbers, etc.)
April is Not the Cruelest Month
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
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
The Call of Distant Places – Book Launch for Forrest Fenn’s Latest
(If I weren’t eighteen hours away . . . )
Charmay Allred invites you to an autograph party
Please join us and bring a friend
Leon Gaspard – The Call of Distant Places
A new book by Forrest Fenn and Carleen Milburn
Monday September 14, 2015
5-7 pm
La Fonda Hotel
Santa Fe Room
Light refreshments will be served
Please RSVP by Sept 10 to:leongaspardbook@gmail.com
Happy 85th Birthday, Forrest Fenn!
The Fisherman
Another year has gone by with no one finding his hidden treasure, but there’s a great tribute to him over on Dal’s site.
Wishing him many, many more years of “not missing his turn.”
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Buried Treasure
Cute.
Feeling “smarter than the average squirrel?”
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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Catching Up is Hard to Do (hum to the tune by Neil Sedaka)
Time on the water, priceless. Home again? Also priceless, but busy. I was north. I was east. Was I west, “in the mountains somewhere north of Santa Fe?” No, darn it. Not yet. But this bronze reminded me of the drawing in the Thrill of the Chase book.
Another great thing about the road trip? Listening to the audio version of The Black Count, a true story about Alexandre Dumas’ pere by Tom Reiss. Fascinating. The Count of Monte Cristo was one of my first favorites. I read an old copy found in the attic. Next best was the 1998 French miniseries of it starring Gerard Depardieu. I didn’t mind the subtitles, it was so engrossing. And now to learn how so much of it was based on his own father’s experiences (including hidden treasure), enlightening. Also, it explained a lot of the history of the French revolution/devolution/rise of Napoleon, areas my education was thin on.
Minnetrista
So, my treasures when I arrived home? A lawn turned to meadow, wild blackberries to forage, and a garden exploding with cukes, beans, and tomatos, etc. Now that the pickles and jams are in the cupboard and the beans and tomatos in the freezer, except for the awesome salads Caprese and salsa verdes and, well, you get the idea.
Jungle garden
Intrepid came to visit and fortunately she loves to pick berries, dig potatos, etc., just happy to be outdoors. She’s begun her fourth (and purportedly toughest) year of residency. Six twelve hours days on for a month, then six twelve hour nights for a month, then same at a different hospital, rinse, wash, repeat…. I’d help her if I could. The least I can do is give her organic veggies. 
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