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)

Wandering in Wyoming (Part Two of Trip One)

Posted on September 5, 2013 by waterhigh

My sights were set on Montana, but I had time to check out (parts of) Wyoming. The state is a collection of mountain ranges and basins. I knew I couldn’t cover it all. Had to scratch off Como Bluff and it’s dinosaur bone house—but it’s not open to the public anymore.

I planned to cover the Big Horn Canyon/Yellowtail Reservoir on my way home, but there was a huge change of plans along the way. So, where did I leave off? Worland.

In the morning I headed for Cody. First up, the Buffalo Bill Dam in Shoshone Canyon where I met Buck, a volunteer at the Visitor Center.

Buck

Wonderful, interesting, happy guy who served his country well.

After that, back into Cody to visit an historic church which the gracious man of the collar opened to me. It has an ancient Wurlitzer organ, of interest to few, but special to me. I told myself I wouldn’t refer to the church by its nickname, but there it was, on a bronze plaque right outside the door….

Downtown for lunch at the Irma Hotel. I gazed in the mirror and looked quickly down, to no avail. I also picked up a neckerchief in case that would be of help in some deciphering I’ve been trying to do.

After lunch I hit 4 out of the 5 museums at the Buffalo Bill Historical Center where I saw a fetching Fechin, the pre-sale artworks of many talented people, Plains Indian artifacts, natural history exhibits, and so forth. I skipped the Firearms Museum this time as Mr. W wasn’t along. (Been there, done that.)

Supper. A double rainbow. Discovered it was FF’s birthday, so I sent him best wishes and a note on my (lack of) progress.

Next up? I had reservations in West Yellowstone, the Gallatin Valley, and a certain hot springs over the next few days, but . . . .

Wyoming cabin made mostly of petrified dinosaur bones (trib.com)
Day Five: A exciting ride off of Big Horn Mt. (nickm94.wordpress.com)

To Go or Not To Go . . .

Posted on September 1, 2013 by waterhigh

I knew I would regret it all winter if I didn’t get out West for my first TTOTC search, but where was my back up: my husband couldn’t get away; a brother just laughed; my friend needed more notice.

(Really a diaper bag)

So, I just did it. Found a back pack that could easily carry a bronze box, water, and bear spray. Flashlight. Check. Whistle. Why not? GPS. No. Forrest’s book. Definitely.

Packed the car. Took off. It’s amazing how much ground you can cover at 75 mph. The vast, flat, empty Nebraska disappeared in a blur. Made it to Ogallala the first night. Then came eastern Wyoming. Hillier. Also mostly barren. Until the mountains start looming up out of nowhere.

I headed north and stopped in Chugwater, site of an old buffalo jump, a museum (closed), and the state’s oldest soda fountain.

Since it was 105 degrees F, I indulged in a delicious chocolate malt after wandering the outdoor exhibits.

From there I headed for Buffalo and the Big Horns via Casper. On the way I took a quick peek at Register Rock and the Oregon Trail ruts near Guernsey. (See Stephanie’s coverage at her blog ‘What’s A Chase’.)

I passed the reservoir at Glendo, water low, where many ancient layers of rock are visible. Saw a couple antelope roaming, and a couple raindrops made it to my windshield. Fort Fetterman was Closed as was the GlenRock Museum. (It’s not even Labor Day yet, folks. Not that I minded the lack of crowds on the highways, etc.) I also saw the bright red gash where they’re cutting Red Mountain for the rock.

At Kaycee I took in the Hoofprints of the Past museum, which had an outstanding number of arrowheads on display. Down the street was a large bronze of a rodeo rider/singer.

I picked up a book on Wyoming’s geology at the museum in Buffalo. Also, helpful was the museum in Worland, Washakee. I tried to memorize the various ages/layers of stone by color and texture. ( Like, where are the dinosaur fossils, the oil, the ocean beds–a visible geologic clock.)

Tensleep Canyon

The most stunning visually is the Tensleep layer, a swirly red and cream, which I saw coming down out of the Big Horns. BTW, there’s a beautiful Meadowlark Lake up there in the woods.

Meadowlark Lake

Are the Big Horn Mountains part of the Rockies? Until I hear otherwise from Mr. Fenn, I’m not ruling them out.

[To be continued. . . .]

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)

“Sell it all; hit the road”

Posted on August 20, 2013 by waterhigh

Here’s an idea (not everyone can/would choose):

Sell it all; hit the road.

But just imagine how much searching one could do . . . .

Ready, set, . . . .

Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Chest

Caves and Kivas

Posted on August 17, 2013 by waterhigh

So many things can go wrong . . . .
Eastman boat in Chicago
24 July 1915

Just finished reading Preston/Child’s Thunderhead, a thriller set in the mysterious canyons of the desert Southwest. Thrills. Chills. And sherds. Lots of potsherds.

New words: kiva; Quivera.

Forrest Fenn is listed in the Acknowledgements. You’ll see why if you read it.

Will I sleep tonight? Yes. Well, maybe.

Will I wander the canyons in the Southwest? Not on your life.

I also picked up Treasure Island at the library since it’s mentioned in Fenn’s The Thrill of the Chase . I don’t think I ever read it as a kid. I see that there is a Skeleton Island on the treasure map, and, (yes, I peeked at the ending which I rarely ever do), there is a cave — filled with all manner of gold and such.

Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Chest

Click on this link to see a 45 million year old stalagmite in Europe.Antiparos, the Cyclades – A travelogue [part II].

Review: Preston/Child – Relic (abstracthorizons.wordpress.com)
Underwater Cave (rbcconnects.com)
Treasure Island: A Review (nobodyputssarahinthecorner.com)
Explorer rescued after getting stuck inside New Milford cave (rep-am.com)

New Q & A with Forrest Fenn

Posted on August 12, 2013 by waterhigh

I’d been wondering for awhile about Mr. Fenn’s hidden autobiography, the one sealed in a jar in the treasure chest. Would the finder, if not me, be sharing it with those of us fascinated by the man?

Also, since I’m still mystified by the meanings of the hints and clues, real and imagined, is he planning to publish a book (after the chest is found) that would put us obsessed seekers out of our, well, not misery exactly, but you know? A cure for whatever we want to call it.

So, I asked him.

His response was quicker than my posting. ***

There is a now a new column/heading on my blog: Q&A with Fenn. I’ll add to it as they occur. I’m never short of questions, just answers.

You’ll see by his answers why I’m now more motivated to head to the Rockies before the snow flies. Even if I haven’t had that mental breakthrough so I could go with perfect confidence, I think I’d regret it all winter if I didn’t try at least once.

The other news from Forrest Fenn is that his newest book, Too Far To Walk is headed to the printer’s this week. I’m already on the waiting list at Collected Works Bookstore in Santa Fe. It will also be available on his website, Old Santa Fe Trading Co.com.

*** Friday I had no internet service, and this weekend I headed 3 hours north for a funeral: 95 year-old WWII veteran, tears at the first hymn, and at the 21 gun salute. “I learned to pray at Normandy,” he’d told the pastor.

Blackberry Moon

Posted on August 8, 2013 by waterhigh

Tiny thing

Yes. Another frog. This little guy posed for me this morning while I was gathering wild blackberries.

(Courtesy note: no new Forrest Fenn/Thrill of the Chase Treasure Hunt clues in here. Just frogs and flutterbys….)

By the time I put the last batch through the juicer to take out the seeds on Tuesday, I ended up with only 9 half-pints of jam. Not enough for Christmas gifting and a year’s supply for us. Not a problem. There are plenty more out there.

Blackberry thorns are meaner than the wild raspberry’s, which ripen in June. So, I armored up, grabbed water, my phone, and my camera. Ready or not, I still missed a shot of the deer and fawn getting a drink. And darn it—the butterflies just won’t sit still for me.

I’ve seen several black and blue swallowtails, very large yellow butterflys, small ones, a tiny blue one, but only 3 monarchs fluttered by this year.

English: Photograph of a Monarch Butterfly. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The monarchs are in some distress.

milkweed

I’ve got plenty of milkweed plants for them (want some seeds?), but I heard they’re not making it past the Texas drought area. There are several generations per summer. The final generation flies all the way back to Mexico to winter in a particular area.

The bigger disaster for their population was 2 winters ago. I remember hearing that a hailstorm hit their winter haven and decimated the flock. Crop Duster

Another issue is the ubiquitous use of pesticides which don’t discriminate between life forms based on desirability. Don’t you wonder what they’re spraying up there? Fungicides, pesticides, herbicides, peoplecides. And why, if the biotech transgenetics are so wonderful?

US distribution of Japanese Beetle, (This map is not entirely accurate. Infestation is established much farther west at least to the Oklahoma line.) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

About the berries. I don’t pick along the fencelines where the neighbors are raising corn and soybeans. So, yes. There are occasional bugs in the bucket. But, I’d rather remove them myself than pollute my food.

Still. I’m really not happy with the voracious Japanese beetles who moved into the neighborhood 3 summers ago. First it was the grapevines. Then the rosebush. This year the orchard. The bright side? The chickens come running when I shake them out of the trees.

Japanese beetles foraging on grapevine

Where are all the monarch butterflies this year? (ctvnews.ca)
Why monarch butterflies’ numbers are in freefall (theglobeandmail.com)
This one’s cute: How A Frog Fights Rain (ramanan50.wordpress.com)

SCARED IN THE SKIES! Man Takes Friend Who is AFRAID of Flying on Aerobatics Flight

Posted on August 7, 2013 by waterhigh

This is funny, in a terrifying sort of way.

Profanity Trail (Photo credit: found_drama)

[Warning: put on mute if bad language offends you]

Click on this: SCARED IN THE SKIES! Man Takes Friend Who is AFRAID of Flying on Aerobatics Flight.

I can relate. A friend once took me up in a tiny plane, sans the aerobics; just a mighty crosswind on landing.

Thank you, Jim. It was unforgettable. : )

“If you can’t fix it with gum or duct tape, it’s not a real VW bus”

Posted on August 6, 2013 by waterhigh

Okay. So why did I reblog this? Aside from the humor, it reminded me of the first James Michener book I read. The Drifters— a pop-top VW bus cruising across Europe with, I think, 6 occupants.

It kindled a spark I had for overseas travel, being young and single at the time. I didn’t make it to the running of the bulls in Pamplona (I’m fine with that), or the ancient cave paintings in Lascaux, France (which are now closed to the public).

Lascaux Caves – Prehistoric Paintings (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Michener’s known for dozens of works including Tales of the South Pacific, Texas, Hawaii, Alaska, and Centennial. You get the idea. Lots of historical facts woven into great stories.

Treasure in the Rockies

But, more important to The Thrill of the Chase by Forrest Fenn, it reminded me of another Michener novel I read (and reread) ages ago. The Source. I plan to revisit it again. It’s multi-layered—an archaeological dig at a tell in the Middle East, with a new story at each strata, plus the thread of the current dig. Very Fennesque in imagination.

For more on the VW, click this link:

If you can’t fix it with gum or duct tape, it’s not a real VW bus.

(Having owned a VW bug, I can attest to the cabin comfort consisting of ‘Heater On/Heater Off’. The change in temperature was accomplished by getting underneath the beetle and beating something to the opposite position.)

English: Duct Tape (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

For more grins and giggles with duct tape, check out the Red Green videos, especially the Possum Club oath at the end of each show.

From Red Green’s Facebook Page

“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.)