What If?

Oh, no!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Forrest thinks “The treasure may be discovered sooner than I anticipated.”

{Here’s a link to Jenny Kile’s blog where you’ll find her new Six Questions with Forrest Fenn, and the above quote.}

 Ever get that sinking feeling?  How will we searchers feel once the treasure chest is found?

Forrest Fenn's Treasure Chest

Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Chest

Early on, I emailed Forrest and asked him not to give out any good clues until I got a chance to head west.  (Beginner’s Confidence.  Some of you know what I mean.)

Then, after a month or two of ridiculously obsessed behavior, I actually wished someone would find it.  I wanted my life back.

(Okay.  That didn’t last too long.)

I’ve wavered back and forth since then.

IMG_0431 It hasn’t even been a year of chasing for me.  I think I first heard of The Thrill of the Chase last March or April. But I don’t want it to end.

Not yet.

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Serendipity II — Right Time, Right Place, Right Stuff

How much pure luck or chance do you think it will take to find Forrest Fenn‘s “blaze“?

So often, it’s the unanticipated that turns out to be the treasure.

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A full moon.

A shuttle launch.

A fortunate location.

Serendipity II close 1

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Wind, Sand and Stars

Wind, Sand, and Stars, front

Yes, it’s the title of a book by the author of The Little Prince.  Antoine de Saint-Exupery was a pilot not unfamiliar with the Sahara.Dive Bombers Daily Drover

I’d only learned of the book back in high school because of a friend in the next town reading it in french class.  (My little school only offered 2 years of spanish.)

I stopped at 2 libraries yesterday to find a copy of The Little Prince.   The 2 copies at the first one were nowhere to be found.  The second library, rather new and planted absolutely Too Far for anyone To Walk to, had none.  When I said I thought it was a classic, he said they didn’t really carry the classics.  Something to do with only putting brand new books in there, ones with tracking chips.  New World.

I stopped at my friend’s.  She looked for her french and german copies but thinks her sons may have them.  Not that my french and german are that adequate anymore, but there are on-line translators, right? (See Forrest Fenn’s Scrapbook # 47.

Okay.  I do have a copy or two myself—-in a box, in a barn, inaccessible at the moment, and I wanted to read it now.

I’d tried my Kindle, but it wasn’t available for download.  Last stop last night on my way home, Barnes and Noble.  Yay.

Oh.

It’s a new translation.  New cover.

Cover of

Cover via Amazon

Choice:  Paperback.  Hardcover.  Set with recording by Viggo Mortenson.  Very tempting that, but I went with the cheapest version.

Okay.  Why go to all this trouble for a book I read ages ago?

Let me try to explain how mind mind works:

Mind Map …..   Free Association …..  Word Play

Case in point —-

Since Forrest used the word “fling” in his talk at Moby Dickens,

and reading the story of the sunken storage jar in Too Far To Walk,

and my earlier reading of Thunderhead, with its kivas,

and remembering the snakes writhing in the Indiana Jones movie,

Plant in White Sands National Monument, New Me...

Plant in White Sands National Monument, New Mexico, USA. The plant’s roots hold a pillar of sand in place, while the surrounding sands are shifted by wind erosion.

and someone I know opening the door to an old underground bunker at White Sands, intending to descend until he saw the floor moving; again, a mass of writhing snakes,

and finding a place called Snakeden Hollow,

and buying snake boots after stirring up a snake while morel hunting, actually, I should use a hiking staff instead of my bare hands to rake through leaves next to fallen trees next time.

Oops.  Getting off point there …. but, okay.  You get the idea.

So, I couldn’t remember the details of the story but I knew there was a snake and a star and a desert involved in the sad conclusion of The Little Prince.

the little prince

“What makes the desert beautiful,” said the little prince, “is that somewhere it hides a well….”

So, back to “fling”.

I know there’s been a recent notice to disregard what Mr. Fenn might say in interviews, just rely on the Poem.  I think Dal believes, maybe Forrest said somewhere, that the treasure is hidden in the original spot he had chosen to rest his bones.  I know he’s said it’s a place “dear” to him.  And somewhere he mentioned desert.

Forrest Fenn's Treasure Chest

Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Chest

Can I reconcile all these ideas?

Not easily.  I think it would take me more than four Xanax, a staff, and snake boots to fling myself into anyplace that might have a ‘moving floor’, even if there was a certain treasure chest in the middle of it.

“It is such a mysterious place, the land of tears.”

English: Saint Exupery monument in Tarfaya Рус...

English: Saint Exupery monument in Tarfaya Рус…

Gimbles and Gymbals

Cover of

Cover of The Jabberwocky

“‘Twas brillig and the slithy toves

did gyre and gymble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogroves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son.””

from Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll

—Fenn knows someone who has the entire book of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland memorized.

Gyroscope with arrows

Gyroscope with arrows (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Thanks to Toby’s video, I got to enjoy Forrest Fenn’s  book signing event in Taos last month at Moby Dickens.  Fun and, as always, fascinating to hear the man himself.  He reminisced,recited poetry, and remained cryptic when it came to where the treasure lies.

Gyroscope-9-4

Gyroscope-9-4 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

New insights?  Yes and no.  “Fling” was new to me, but then I have no trouble in finding clues in everything he says or writes.  I suffer from mental gyrations following each and every post.  Tabasco?  Mace?  Curlers?  Head spinning.

Also, hearing him talk about the deal he made with his granddaughter regarding med school expenses reminded me of conversations I had with Intrepid.

As high school graduation approached, her friends were all getting piercings and tattoos up the wazoo.  She was inclined to follow suit, until I asked her if she wanted help with college.  A deal was struck.

She got early acceptance into the only school she applied to, (UW-Madison

English: University of Wisconsin "Sifting...

English: University of Wisconsin “Sifting and Winnowing” plaque Located on Bascom Hall, University of WIsconsin Photographed July, 2002 by Daniel P. B. Smith. Copyright ©2002 Daniel P. B. Smith. Licensed under the terms of the Wikipedia Copyright. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

) ((I was very jealous.))

One time, when she was home on break, she asked what would happen if she got a tattoo.

Me:  You’d turn that gift into a loan.

Her:  Oh.

Me:  Anything you want to tell me?

Her:  No.

At one point in those years, she was set to join the military because they would pay for med school and she’d get good experience.  I suggested she wait until she got accepted into med school before taking that route, because once she joined she may not get the choices she expected.  Or something like that.

So, she waited.  Got into med school and through it, on student loans.  Now, this was a surprise to me— the interest rates go up the higher your level of study does.  Undergrads, the lowest, and med/dental students the highest, like 7 to 8 per cent.  How, I wondered, could this be, in a time when banks pay you virtually nothing on your savings?

Early forms of stethoscopes.

Early forms of stethoscopes. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Well, she is now in a 5 year residency, and owes about twice what our first home cost.  I think there are underserved areas that are willing to trade tuition for services, kinda like Rob Morrow’s character ending up in fly-in Alaska in Northern Exposure.  She does love to travel.

About the tattoo(s)?  She’s now old enough to know what forever means (longer than the life of her loans), and if she wants the rod of Aesclepius indelibly inscribed on her body, she’s earned the right to choose it.

Aesclepius

Aesclepius (Photo credit: santanartist)

{{Note to self:  Let Dal know that, if by a slim chance my entry won his contest over at Thrill of the Chase, not to ship the prize.  I need a way to convince Mr. W that I have to return to Santa Fe!}}

Related articles

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

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

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.safe

**  A better clue, the treasure is not over 10,200 feet, appeared in a separate article recently.

Holy Pompeii Pillars, Batman!

Batman with his sidekick Robin. Painting by Al...

So what does it mean if the night after I drove through Yellowstone National Park I had a nightmare and woke up in a one-horse town frantically searching for the dust mask I had packed (somewhere) because the volcano had blown and the ash-laden air was getting thicker and thicker?!?

Can you say “Terremoto“?

{I’m still searching for Forrest Fenn’s hidden treasure chest BTW.}

Signature of William Clark, on 1806-07-25 at t...

Signature of William Clark, on 1806-07-25 at todays Pompeys Pillar National Monument, Montana (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Caves and Kivas

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

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.

Pot Sherds

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.

English:

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.

English: map of Treasure Island, from the firs...

Forrest Fenn's Treasure Chest

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].

Boat Skeleton, Cô Tô Island

“One of These Things Is Not Like the Other”

SESAME STREET*Google

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. . .”

TTOTC book jacketResult:  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

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 p...

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.

Tea with Olga

tea time
tea time (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Some things don’t jump out at you until later.

This chapter of The Thrill of the Chase is about a neighbor and friend of Forrest Fenn’s, a bittersweet story. It put me in mind of many things, the line from Robert Frost’s poem, for one, about having promises to keep.

Another was a woman who lived down the hall in the hospital dormitory. She was old, and frail, and worked in the surgery department, as I recall. She was a refugee from the Sudetenland. Quiet.

I dropped off some cherry tomatoes from my Dad’s garden one day. She couldn’t eat them, but insisted on returning the kindness by preparing blintzes for me. A first and best ever for me.

She also shared a bit of her story. I hope I get this right. I think it was well after the Nazi’s had rescued/annexed/invaded the area, and that it was the Russians coming through much later. Either way, soldiers came to the house and demanded that her mother get up to prepare them a meal. Her mother was quite ill and in bed. They beat her anyway. If I knew anymore than that, I’ve forgotten it.

I also don’t know what happened to the sweet woman who made me the blintzes. They closed the dorm, and I’d moved on. She had a daughter in the area.

There are so many stories out there that we never get to hear. Or is it that we don’t “listen good”?

Taos Mtn. from El Prado,New Mexico

So, what did I learn from this chapter of TTOTC? I think it was about making adjustments in the face of reality.

Yes, Forrest Fenn was headed for the summit, the usually icy, snowy peak, but the green of the meadows within the ponderosa and aspen seemed the better choice.

And, that’s why I think he may not have hidden the chest where he originally intended. Just speculation on my part. Like he said, “Indecision is the key to flexibility, . . . .”

Forrest Fenn's Treasure Chest
Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Chest

But then again, he said he “knew exactly where to hide the chest . . . .”

Addendum — June 23, 2013

I just listened to a WGN interview with Forrest Fenn, not sure of the date, in which he said he’d been very certain of where he was going to hide the chest. You can listen to it and find other Thrill of the Chase info at Shaun’s site. (http://www.creationeer.co.uk/forrestfennfacts.htm)

A Rumor of Gold

The Hand of Faith, the largest gold nugget in ...

The Hand of Faith, the largest gold nugget in the world. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Just what does it take to abandon family and the comforts of home?  Dreams of adventure? Fortune?  Fame?  Maybe just a dare.  Or a failure of common sense, as in buying lottery tickets?  Oops.  Not you, of course.

I guess I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for a great-grandfather that had that something.  He sailed from Denmark and ended up in Cripple Creek, Colorado, at the right time. Cripple Creek mining dist According to a great-uncle, he found a large gold nugget.  Great-grandpa also knew when to say “Basta”, enough.  (Yes, that’s Italian, not Danish.)  He sailed back to Denmark and returned with his bride.  They bought a farm in the midwest and lived happily ever after.  Actually, I couldn’t say;  I never met him.  The same great-uncle also claimed we were related to the Danish royalty.  I told my kids that even if they were princes and princesses, they still had to do their chores.  There was no one left to ask whether it was true or not.  (I wrote a novel based on that nugget;  maybe 15% truth, tops.  85% lies and imagination.  Surprising to readers which parts are actually true.)

on frozen lake

Worth the Cold

That something seems to have been passed down through the generations, so much so that one child I’ll refer to as Intrepid.  She decided it would be fun to take a high school class that combined biology and phys ed credits, and spent a 3-day weekend in February(! ) camped on a frozen lake in the Boundary Waters on the Canadian border.  icy waterfall

behind icy waterfallWhy I looked on the internet for the weather report, I don’t know.  I saw that instead of a low of 0 degrees F, a front came through with 40 mile an hour winds and 20-something below temps.  I didn’t sleep that night.

Not THE blaze

Not THE blaze

She’s also the one who phoned home one night from a trip to the wilds of Alaska to tell us not to worry about the forest fire.  She had to hang up then so the other kids could call and scare the heck out of their parents.  Not until we got her photos developed did I realize how serious it was.  Not the kind of blaze any TOTC searcher wants to run into.

I suppose I had a bit of that something as well.  Once, I went west with a friend in a VW bug to visit a former co-worker who’d moved to Colorado.

royal gorge 5

We thought we’d see the sights while there, so ended up hanging in a cable car over the Royal Gorge.  I turned to her to tell her that I was getting off, not enjoying the view while terrified, but, too late.  The door slammed shut.  At least I made it across without screaming or fainting.  Oh.  Back to the story.

Trailblazing.  I was the navigator.  I love maps.  We’d visited the Air Force Academy, been down as far as Pueblo, and wanted to get back to Denver or Boulder or somewhere.  I saw a short-cut.  It was right there on the map.  No name.  No number.  It appeared to be paved.  So, we took it.  Before long, we started seeing jeeps.  Army jeeps.  And other things.  Low buildings.  Low flying jets.  Who knows.  Soon, one of the jeeps with 2 or 3 guys in it, came up to us.  We stopped.  They asked what we were doing or where we were headed or how we ended up there.  I explained.   I showed them the map.  They gave us an escort.  I followed them right up the road I’d planned on.  Saved several miles.  I don’t think I’d be alive to mention it if it happened these days.

There were other things I didn’t mention to Intrepid until she was older, like sleeping on a picnic table in Tennessee on the way back from a Florida camping trip—different friend, spring break sort of thing.  Intrepid comes up with enough ideas of her own.  I’ve got a few gray hairs to show for it. She’s too tied up these days to venture west on a rumor of gold.  Maybe I can get an older child interested.

TTOTC book jacketSurprising the reactions I get when I mention Forrest Fenn‘s The Thrill of the Chase treasure hunt.  Nobody thinks it’s real.  That’s okay.  I’m a firm believer in the Fenn formula.  Somebody’s going to find it.  And all the other TTOTC searcher’s are having fun.  (Though some of you might need to slow down…..you, know.  Basta.)