Coyote…Part Two


© 2011 dal neitzel



It took more than an hour to go back the ten dusty miles of red dirt road to the highway toward Coyote. It was about 2pm. It felt like the sun was burning a hole in the roof of my truck. I was sticky and hot and very uncomfortable. I don’t belong in this kind of climate. I kept imagining myself as a turkey all basted up on Thanksgiving and roasting in the oven.

As soon as I hit the asphalt, life got better. First thing I did was roll down the windows and push the accelerator to the floor to move some air around in the cab. This is a northern truck. Good mileage but no air conditioning.

Then things began to go downhill again. Second thing I did was slow way down when I looked in my rear view and saw blue and white flashing lights about twenty feet off my rear bumper. Where on earth did he come from? No trees. No side roads. No buildings to hide behind. “Maybe he’s Apache” I thought to myself. I rolled to a stop. Pulled onto the far right shoulder. Shut the engine down and reached into my back pocket for my wallet.

“Stay in the vehicle! Put your hands on top of the steering wheel and do not move!” A voice yelled from behind my truck. I did what he told me to do. I could see him in my side view. He was big and dressed like a cop. He had taken a regulation, two handed shooting position with his handgun pointed at where he figured my head should be in the truck. He side stepped to his right out of my view and over to the other side of my truck so he could approach me from the passenger side of the GMC. I wondered if he had called this in yet. I also wondered if the county cops around here made all their traffic stops like this. Tough neighborhood!

I didn’t move. I didn’t get smart mouthed. I sat with my hands on the wheel and my eyes forward while he checked me out.

“Any weapons in the vehicle?” he shouted.


As he came around to the passenger window he leveled the weapon through the window at my upper torso. He knew enough not to touch the vehicle or put his weapon in through the window. Then he started giving me directions.

“Listen to me and do what I say. Okay?”


“Put your left hand behind your head and hold it there. Do it slow and easy”

I followed his instructions, slow and easy.

When my hand landed behind my head he gave me the next instruction.

“Slowly move your right hand down to the ignition. Pull the key out and toss the key through your window to the ground.”

I did as he instructed but now my right hand was dangling in the air in front of my chest. I was certain he would want it somewhere else.

“Move your right hand to behind your head just like the left.”

I did as he instructed. He moved closer to the passenger window so he could check out the space next to me for weapons.

“What’s that on the floor next to you.”

I knew what he was talking about and I wondered if it was going to be a source of contention.

“Its my ice axe.”

Just then I heard the second cop running up to my side of the vehicle. The first cop must have called it in.

For a moment they stood at opposite doors. Two guns pointed at my torso and also at one another like one of those Police Academy movies. But I wasn’t laughing.

The cop on my side repositioned himself a little forward so any slug from the first cop’s gun that went through me  and the door would miss him. Then the first cop left his position and reappeared on my side with his weapon holstered.

“I’m going to open your door now and when I do you will not move until I tell you too. Okay?”


“Is your door unlocked?”


The first cop looked at the second cop. They nodded at one another. My door jerked open and the first cop hauled me out by my elbow, pushed me to the ground and told me to “Get down and stay down!” In my peripheral vision I could see that the second cop had moved toward me and was now holding his weapon about three feet from my head. Then a cadence of instructions and questions.

“Spread your legs. Lock your fingers behind your head. If you move you’re a dead man. What’s your name?”

With my hands behind my head, my face was in the red dirt. I wondered if anyone had stopped here to pee. I hoped not. It felt like my keys were pinned under my right thigh. With my mouth in the dirt I said my name. I felt a knee hit the small of my back with quite a bit of weight. My left arm was wrenched from behind my head and a plastic cuff was locked around my left wrist. Then my right arm was hauled down to meet my left and cuffed to it.

The first cop was now feeling up my backside, torso and legs for anything unusual. He was not being nice about it. I figured these guys were very concerned about weapons but I had no idea why. He pulled my wallet out of my right back pocket. He stood over me and said, “Repeat your name!”

I turned my head to one side and repeated my name.

“Spell it!” he said.

I spelled it trying not to breath in the dirt that was coating my nostrils and mouth.

The big cop looked up from my license. “What kind of name is that?”, he asked.

“Its German.” I said.

I could hear some relief in his voice. Something had happened. I was not who he expected and he was relieved to find that out.

“What are you doing here?” he yelled.

I was afraid of this question. I knew it was coming and I was trying to think of a better answer than the truth. An answer that would not cause any trouble. But I couldn’t come up with one.

“Looking for hidden treasure.” I said.

I felt the knee push hard into the small of my back. The first cop didn’t like that answer. I didn’t think he would.

“I’m going to ask that again!”, he said. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say what I think you just said. Don’t be a smart-ass it won’t help you right now. Just tell us the truth. What are you doing here?”

“That is the truth.” I said. I’m looking for hidden treasure. I can prove it.”

There was a pause while the cops considered what I had just said.

I decided to try to get into a more comfortable position.

“Look, can I get up?” I asked. I’m suffocating down here. I don’t have any weapons on me and I’ll answer any questions you want.”

More silence. Not a single car drove by. The highway out here was definately underused.

“I don’t know what you guys are looking for but I’m pretty sure I’m not it. I’m a damn tourist.”

Cop number one grabbed my belt and hoisted me up one handed while I tried to get my legs under me. As soon as I was on my feet he yanked my shirt up to make sure there wasn’t a concealed weapon in my waist. “Got any needles or sharp objects in your pockets?”, he asked.

“Cash and a folding pocket knife is all.” I said.

He put his hands in my pockets, emptied them and turned them inside out. I had about $6 in my left pocket and my pocket knife in my right. He put my things on the hood of the truck and turned back toward me. I spread my legs and he patted me down from the front this time. The second cop holstered his weapon, crossed his arms over his chest and watched. He was smaller than the first cop. About my size but thinner. Maybe 35 years old. His tan uniform had sharp creases. His hair was neatly trimmed and his face was clean shaven. I could smell All Spice after shave on one of them. Their shoulder patches said Rio Arriba County.

The big cop stood up and looked me hard in the face. He was probably over 6 feet tall and must have weighed 250lbs. He was younger. Maybe early twenties. Played football at some high school out here a few years ago. He looked like he worked out. His uniform was just as squared away as the other cop’s except his knees were now stained from the red dirt.

“I’m going to look inside your truck.” he said. “You got a problem with that?”

“Not me.” I said

“Good.” he said as he picked the keys up off the ground and headed to the back doors of my van.

The small cop just stared at me. He didn’t say anything. Just looked at me like I was an infant with a dirty diaper. The All Spice was definitely coming from him.

I found a point on the bridge of his nose and stared right back. I can be just as manly as the next guy.

I could hear the big cop rummaging around in the truck. Nothing back there was going to get me in trouble.

After about two minutes the big cop came back around the front of the truck. He had my ice axe in one hand and something small in his other hand along with my keys. I couldn’t see what it was.

“What did you say this was?” he said as he held up my ice axe.

“Thats an ice axe. Climbers use them when they are traveling on ice. Its an assist and safety tool.”

“Uh-huh.” he said to me and then turned to the other cop. “There’s nothing in there. I think we should uncuff him.”

The smaller cop came toward me. I turned my back to him and raised my hands a little so he could get at the cuffs.

While the smaller cop was fooling with the cuffs the big cop said “So why do you need an ice axe in New Mexico in August?” He was hefting the axe for balance and trying it out while he asked.

“I use it when I’m hiking around.” I said.  “I can poke at places I’d rather not put my fingers.?

“Emm hmm. Where do you get something like this?”

“I don’t know about around here but in Washington you can get them at practically any climbing gear shop.

The smaller cop finally spoke up. His name tag said Vargas. “Where were you coming from when officer Bear pulled you over?”

“Bear! Thats his name…Bear? Officer Bear laughed.

“Call me Griz for short.” he said. “I like your axe.”

“So where were you coming from?” Vargas asked.

“I was coming back from that old trading post about 10 miles back from where I pulled out.” I said

Bear nodded his big head and said “And what were you doing back there?”

“Exactly what I told you before. I was looking for hidden treasure. I thought it might be back there.”

“What do you mean hidden treasure?”

“I can show you. Okay if I get a book out of my truck?”


I popped the door open and reached into my computer bag between the seats, pulled out Forrest’s book and handed it to Vargas.

“Fellow in Santa Fe decided to hide about a million in gold…”

“A million dollars in gold?..” Bear almost dropped the axe.

“Yeah, about a million and anybody is welcome to go look for it. That’s what I was doing.”

“So its buried around here someplace?” asked Vargas. He started thumbing through the pages as he listened and talked.

“I don’t know where it is. I’ve been looking in a bunch of places including out here. Could be anywhere.”

“But you have good reason to believe its out here, right? You aren’t just flipping a coin to see where you’ll look are you?”

“No I was following some clues that led me out here.”

“What’s this?” Bear asked. He was holding a small stone carving of an animal.

“Can I see it?” I asked while holding out my hand.

I examined it. I had never seen it before. About three inches long. It looked like a dog. It was expertly carved out of a green colored stone. The creature had something that looked a great deal like my ice axe carved out of reddish stone and held onto its midsection with a leather thong. Looked old. Rounded like it had been rubbed a lot. The leather was dark with age. Beautiful marbled stone.

“I guess its a carving of a dog. But I’ve never seen it before. Where did you find it?” I handed it back to him.

“In your van. It was laying on the passenger seat.”

Vargas had stopped thumbing the pages. He found the poem and was studying it closely.

“Well I don’t know where it came from.” I said.

Bear held it up between his thumb and forefinger so Vargas could see it.

“Look at this.” he said to Vargas.

Vargas looked up from the poem, took the sculpture and studied it for a few seconds. “That’s your ice axe.” he said to me and pointed at the object tied to the dog. “Did you give a ride to an old indian?” he asked.

“Not exactly.” I said. “But, yes there was an old indian by the name of Yellow Hat that was in the truck about an hour ago.”

“Yellow Hat!” boomed Bear. That’s a good one.

“Okay.” I said. “What’s going on?”

“You tell him.” said Bear.

“Well we’ve all been suckered.” said Vargas. That old indian that was in your truck. He’s an Apache trickster. His name is Coyote. This is not a dog. This is a Coyote. You must have been around him for awhile if he carved your ice axe and tied it on.”

“No. Not very long at all. Maybe 20 minutes is all.”

“I don’t think he could have carved your little ice axe in 20 minutes with all that detail.” Vargas said.

I rubbed my eyes. They were suddenly dry and itchy. “No, 20 minutes is all.”

“Well if we ever catch this guy he’s going to be in a world of hurt. This time he called 911 and told the dispatcher that a white van with Washington plates was headed out from the Capa Amarilla road with four bales of Marijuana. Driver’s name was supposed to be Jones. I just got the call from dispatch when you came lurching out of there onto the asphalt and started driving like your butt was on fire.”

Bear added, “He lives back in there somewhere. They’ve been looking for this guy for about 40 years…I kid you not.”

He handed me the sculpture.

Vargas said, “Its an Apache fetish. Its his calling card. First time I’ve ever seen one personalized like that. Its good luck. Carry it with you all the time. You’ll be safe…and…do you know the name of that trading post back there?”

“Nope.” I said.

“Its called Capa Amarilla.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Yellow Hat.” said Vargas.


25 thoughts on “Coyote…Part Two

  1. Well…..this very much captivated my attention. Good read…I think you could easily have a series going with that indian.

  2. Wow, that’s pretty cool. I like that carving too. Apache Fetish. Forrest mentioned something about fetishes in one of his interviews.

    Trucker Sue & Kelly K9

  3. I think you should have gone back to the trading post and left your ice axe as a gift to the Indian. If there was a treasure there he might have taken you to it who else would know if a treasure was in those mountains than an Indian who has been wondering them for 40 years
    Your ice axe could have lead to maybe even something better!

  4. Hi all! I’m Joy (a.k.a. Celticpath). 🙂

    I love that story, Dal (parts 1 & 2)! 🙂 That’s one sneaky and clever Indian. lol
    I’ve been following and reading your blog for the last day or so, and have really enjoyed reading it. I’ve also been reading/following other bloggers related to this search as well. I have to admit, this whole thing has got me captivated. And it’s a bit addicting to search for hints and clues online.
    My husband is interested in the search, too. But right now, I’m the only one who has been doing the online searching. lol But I do relay to him all the interesting clues and tips that I come across, and we both have various theories of where the elusive treasure could be. And I’ve managed to get quite a collection of bookmarks in the last couple of days. lol
    I saw Forrest’s story on the Today show a week or so ago (can’t remember exactly when it was). And it piqued mine and my husband’s interest. But, unfortunately my memory isn’t quite what it used to be, and it totally slipped my mind after a little while. But then a friend of mine posted something on Facebook yesterday, about the woman from Carrolton, TX who went missing and then was found, while she was searching for the treasure. And it reminded me about the search. So since yesterday, I’ve been digging all over online almost non-stop, just to try my best to figure out this mystery.
    In my searching and thinking about this chase, various questions and thoughts have come to mind, that I’d like to ask Forrest, or anyone who may have any clues about the answer. For instance, I know Forrest said that the chest isn’t somewhere dangerous. And I’ve read where people have brought their kids with them on their search. But I was wondering what age do you think is too young to bring your child with you on such an excursion. I’ve got a 12 year old daughter who really seems to want to go if my husband and I find a way to go. I know it mostly depends on where we decide to search, but what do y’all think?
    And the other question that I would like to ask Forrest is, would the location of the treasure (and the areas leading to the location) be a place that someone with claustrophobia and a fear of heights (especially open heights) would have a problem going to/into? Because that’s one of my main issues with going on a trip like this.

    Now, here are some thoughts I had that popped into my head earlier:

    1) If the chest is in a low-lying area close to the ground, it’s possible that animals have possibly defecated, urinated, or left their scent on the chest.

    2) Depending on where it is, animals or insects may have built up a nest around the chest.

    About the 1st & 2nd point: I think it would be wise to bring some type of work gloves to put on, for those who go on this search. Because I don’t know about y’all, but I’d rather not put my bare hands on the chest if any of those things are on it. lol Not to mention, work gloves may come in handy for any rough surfaces you may have to face, or rough objects you have to move (rocks, logs, etc.).

    About the 2nd point- If any kind of nests (built by whatever kind of creature- insects, birds, etc.) have been built around it, it would possibly make it that much more challenging to see the chest. And possibly more challenging to get it out of whatever it’s hidden behind, under, or in.

  5. Fantastic story Dal – I love it! Great writing too – I think you have a future in writing if you don’t find Forrest’s treasure….and maybe even if you do! 😀

  6. Loved this story. I wish interesting things like this would happen to me. 🙂 By the way when you were describing all the drawings on the stone and you said one seemed to have fire coming down from the sky, I was waiting for you to say you looked quickly down… Seems like a perfect “blaze” to me. And you let a trickster lead you away. This and some other things also got me to wondering, does Forrest own a 4 wheel drive? I guess he could always rent one…

  7. Great story. Hope you still have the carved coyote, It’s beautiful. Only question I have is why that part of NM? Seems clueless to me. Sorry, couldn’t resist the pun.

    • SOB-
      Yes…that’s the beauty of that spot…no one else looks there…lol.. Well, if I’d known then what everyone knows today I probably would not have headed out there. But Forrest had not revealed as many additional clues back then and I could follow the clues we did have and get there pretty good. I wouldn’t bother today since new clues rule out my extremely clever thinking on Coyote 🙂

  8. Great story Dal! Will read to kids tonight. I love these real stories and you tell it so well. Thanks for sharing.

  9. This is probably my favorite story yet. Thanks for sharing. I really think you should write a book about your chase…. I’d buy it.

    • Thanks Jeremy-
      That little coyote with the ice axe sits on my window sill. I keep hoping he’ll bring me luck…
      I certainly give him plenty of opportunities…lol…

        • Don’t have a sure bet but maybe mid August if I can get away from the office. I am itching to look at a new WWWH.

  10. Dal, this is great!!!

    Even if you are convinced that the chest is not out there, do you think that you would like to return?

    I have a good 4X4 truck with air conditioning and would like to see the old store and the petroglyphs. Whenever you would like to go, I will be available. Meeting David Yellow Hat would just be icing on the cake.

    • special-
      Not to chase the treasure. I was following a creek that looked much more promising on paper than it turned out in real life. I would have turned around sooner if I had been able to find a wide, hard spot. And since the group back there was involved in trafficking illegal substances and used me as a decoy…I don’t think I need to see them again… 🙂
      Let me say that Yellow Hat was fun. I could sit down with him and listen to stories and drink a beer or two…

      • You’re right Dal, I wouldn’t want to be near that kind of mess either.

        Sounded like a good opportunity at first, perhaps another adventure. 🙂

  11. Now that is a great story.
    I read part one a while ago, but just found part 2.
    Very strange goings on eh.

  12. You almost made me late to a movie, Dal! This story was so good I couldn’t put it down. It sounds like it must have been terrifying, though, having sheriff’s deputies pointing guns at your head!

  13. Quite the enjoyable yarn. I’m curious to know if maybe you didn’t eat that little hard candy (from Coyote part 1) on the way back down that dirt road? Mighta been tainted.

  14. Dang Dal…This is your best story ever!

    Note to self, stay out of Arriba county,
    Don’t stop at trading Post to talk to old Indians.

  15. Ha ha great story Dal, very entertaining read! I’m attempting to read all these things I missed from the beginning of the chase. Good thing I’ve got lots of time for reading these days!

    • Jen, I am so with you on this one, after careful observation and thorough analysis of this post by Dal, I am reminded how fascinating, even enlightening this “Quest” for Indulgence ie The Holy Grail can be, such great comedy for a play or a movie scrip: Forrest Fenn may be the “Heisenberg” of treasures hidden, but Dal is “Don Quitoxe” of searches and adventurers. Kudos on such brainy comedy, I am still writing and laughing


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