Odds n Ends About Fenn’s Treasure Hunt…

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Please click on the comment balloon below to contribute to the discussion of  Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Hunt. Please note that many topics have their own pages. Please scroll through the blog to see all the discussion pages. There are also stories, scrapbooks, searcher’s reports general information, tips from Forrest, a rumors blog and even email responses from Forrest. So please look around and if you want to make a comment please use the most appropriate page.

Thanks…

 

dal…

Odds n Ends About Fenn’s Treasure Hunt…Part Seventy One

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This page is now closed to new comments. To continue the discussion please go to the newest Odds n Ends page.

Please click on the comment balloon below to contribute to the discussion of  Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Hunt. Please note that many topics have their own pages. Please scroll through the blog to see all the discussion pages. There are also stories, scrapbooks, searcher’s reports general information, tips from Forrest, a rumors blog and even email responses from Forrest. So please look around and if you want to make a comment please use the most appropriate page.

Thanks…

 

dal…

Imagine That!…

November 2018

By Voxpops

 

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Lake Vyrnwy in North Wales. An entire village was submerged here in the late 19th century when this valley was flooded to provide drinking water for Liverpool

There’s a book I read recently for our local book group: Days Without End by Sebastian Barry. It’s a tale centered in the Indian Wars and the American Civil War. At times it’s funny, at others horrific, and with its stream-of-consciousness delivery, you might say it’s more of a tone poem than a novel. How historically accurate it is I can’t say; certainly, with its references to cross-dressing and interracial exploits, it feels a touch implausible and anachronistic in places, and yet it is an imaginative tour de force, carrying the reader deep into the blood-soaked landscape and vomit-inducing stench of war.

Days

For me, the past year has been a lesson in the power of imagination. There have been periods of terror offset by flashes of enlightenment – all brought about through intense introspection as a result of my involvement in the Chase. It’s only now that I’ve concluded my search that I’m able to look back with a sense of perspective, and begin to understand how imagination has played a critical role in forging a path that I could follow both physically and metaphorically.

We all know that Forrest Fenn ranks imagination above knowledge, but it might be worth asking ourselves why that is. What is it about imagination that will propel us forward to the hiding place, while knowledge leaves us scratching our heads in confusion? To answer that I want to start by examining the reasons given for the treasure hunt: “…to get kids off the couch and away from their texting machines…” and: “…in a terrible recession… I wanted to give hope to those who had a sense of adventure and were willing to go searching.”

As someone pointed out recently, given the decision to write the poem and hide the treasure preceded the economic downturn by more than a decade, we can pretty much discount the second reason as a prime mover for the Chase, unless we’re prepared to grant Forrest clairvoyance. It may well have been something that gave added impetus to the timing, but even then it seems unlikely that a family deeply affected by the recession would have the spare resources to gamble on the one-in-a-billion chance of finding the chest. But before we dismiss it entirely, the word “hope” is interesting. Whether or not we’re in an upcycle or downswing, the human condition is one that needs – is almost desperate for – hope: hope that there is something better in the future; hope that our lives are not lived in vain. Hope springs eternal according to Alexander Pope in his poem An Essay On Man, in which he castigates mankind for believing that he can use his knowledge of science to “scan God.” So by Fenn saying that he wanted to give hope, maybe he was talking about the power of imagination over that of knowledge, where the latter speaks to man’s desire to measure and classify everything, and the former grants access to a cosmos of fresh ideas. Perhaps there are some things that transcend the known, and yet remain vital to our wellbeing.

As for the first-mentioned reason, we probably spend about 90% or more of our “search” time online, with a tiny proportion given over to BOTG. Families searching together certainly give their kids wonderful and real experiences that they couldn’t possibly match with their “texting machines,” but overall, even though there’s probably been a huge upswing in searchers’ exposure to the wilderness, the Chase has probably also been instrumental in increasing our slavish devotion to gadgets!

So we’re left with two given reasons that are not altogether satisfactory. And if we accept that, then is there a hidden or underlying reason? I would contend that there is, and that it is partly to do with imagination – to help us develop that faculty and to open our minds to whatever influences may be present. In my own search that has meant using imagination to bridge the “gaps” between clues, and developing a kind of sixth sense for recognizing “aberrations that live out on the edge.” It’s more of an art than a science, and if, like me, you’re not used to that way of thinking it can be a lengthy – and at times frightening – learning curve.

Merriam Webster defines imagination firstly as: “the act or power of forming a mental image of something not present to the senses or never before perceived in reality.” That’s an interesting definition because it allows for truly “blue-sky” or visionary thinking, not necessarily grounded in reality. In the context of the Chase, my contention is that the only way to successfully complete the challenge is to delve as deep into your imagination as it’s possible to go, until you develop the technique of mirroring Fenn’s thinking. The problem is knowing when you’re beginning to succeed, especially if there’s apparently so little to help you confirm your progress (ignoring for a moment the books and ATFs, which have the tendency to confirm everyone’s solves!). But I would suggest that if you can develop this technique you will have flashes of insight that help you plot a way forward. The mirror may be very cloudy at first, and progress will be stumbling, but with time and persistence things should become clearer.

Of course without knowing where to begin and without understanding how the numerical framework comes into play, imagination alone won’t be sufficient, but it can certainly help with both these elements. However, here’s the rub. There’s no way to know in advance whether your poem interpretations and mirror-imaging are correct without testing the ideas on the ground – possibly many times. I seriously doubt whether this depth of “vision” can be obtained by fireside cogitation alone. Even though I believe the answer we’re all seeking is fairly simple in one sense, the possible permutations are almost endless. We’re talking about a slow and dogged development of this faculty, which requires getting off the couch and out into the wilds.

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Castle Rock and Green River during a storm

My last trip to Wyoming was not a particularly happy event – and nearly didn’t happen at all. It came after what my doctor diagnosed as an acute psychotic disorder. I was recovering from a bout of flu when I began to have serious concerns about the Chase, and these rapidly morphed into terrifying thoughts and delusions. Basically, I had spent so long making connections at a profound level that I’d forged pathways into my own darkest mental recesses. In short, I’d let the demons out of the cage. It was an intensely unpleasant experience that was also very distressing for those around me. So the trip, which had almost been canceled, was foreshortened and took place alongside a wife who had come to, quite understandably, detest everything about the Chase.

But before you dismiss what I’m about to say as the ravings of a diagnosed lunatic, I’d ask you to consider what Fenn really had in mind for the most ardent searchers. This is “The Thrill of the Chase.” We might normally define this as the excitement of the hunt. But what if we adjust the emphasis a little?

Fenn has a way with words – to the point of exasperating the reader. Take SB 178 as an example. The first line is: “Pony Ault was the only important client our gallery had in Santa Fe, and she seemed to know everyone.” Does that mean that Pony Ault was the only person living in Santa Fe who was an important client? Or does it mean that she was the only important client… period? Well, the latter seems unlikely since Forrest could boast of some of the biggest names around as clients. But now read the entire SB slowly and carefully, and pay particular attention to the final paragraph; does that alter your perspective at all? A quick Google search for Pony Ault will reward you with very little. But you will find the name given as a founding member of the Santa Fe Art Institute, along with William Lumpkins, a member of the Transcendental Painting Group, which aimed to convey spiritual truths through abstract art. Interesting.

Now try, “It doesn’t help to stretch a tangent.” Back in 2016, if I’d read that sentence with the emphasis on “tangent” instead of “stretch,” I might have saved myself a couple more years of searching, and perhaps some heartache too.

So to return to TTOTC, the word “thrill” originally meant “to pierce.” If we read the line with the emphasis on “Thrill” instead of “Chase,” we might conjure an image of a searcher being pierced by something. So could the phrase really be referring to searchers being hunted down and pierced? And if so, by whom and with what?

We all know from the fishing stories and the cover of OUAW that Fenn is angling for something. It’s not beyond the bounds of possibility that he’s looking for someone for a reason. What that reason is remains known only to the poem’s author. I honestly don’t believe he’s looking for the cleverest searcher; after all, there are some pretty amazing brains working on this, but cleverness doesn’t seem to be what’s required to solve the poem. Could it be, instead, that he wants someone with the necessary imaginative skills to complete the journey? And if so, why?

I believe the answer to these questions is a spiritual one. An abiding image for me is from an interview during one of the earlier bookshop appearances, in which Forrest breaks his vocal stride to deliver a line which goes something like, “nothing is as it seems.” When you watch the video it seems like a non-sequitur, and that draws attention to it. What is not what it seems? From my own experiences this year I would suggest that we’re not talking about a regular treasure hunt, but about a vision quest where outward appearances may be deceptive. I’m not the first to suggest this as a plausible scenario, but I would like to support that viewpoint and relate it to the concept of imaginative solving as I try to make sense of what’s been happening in and beyond my own chase.

I will say upfront that the search is over for me. Interpret that as you will, but it certainly tallies with my current predicament. I am stuck in Britain, unwilling to risk my marriage any further for a box of gold. Unless the domestic situation changes, there will be no more trips to the Rockies. Besides, the Welsh countryside is equally impressive, just on a smaller scale!

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LLynnau Cregennen near Cadair Idris in North Wales

In the past, the various artefacts I’ve found and spoken about as being Chase-related have caused some controversy and hilarity. That’s completely understandable, particularly if you don’t know the reason why a particular spot has meaning, or how a specific find can help spark the imagination sufficiently to be able to move forward in a solution. On the other hand, my own interpretation has developed over the course of time as I tried to make sense of the simple practicalities involved in placing strategic “pointers,” or generating distinctive symbols that appear on Google searches.

At one time, I was convinced that Forrest or someone he trusted had somehow gone around secreting these little “aberrations.” Take the smashed pottery as an example. See the “Garden City” name here? Now look at the picture of the book cover in SB 172 – and note the publisher’s address.

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Smashed pot courtesy of the Garden City Pottery Company and found near Daniel, WY

It’s these tiny coincidences that I kept discovering that had me believing these were plants. Now, after being able to see more clearly the role imagination plays, my understanding has both shifted direction and deepened. Now I believe that if you can open those mental channels sufficiently, your subconscious will “notice” things (aberrations out on the edge) that can assist your conscious mind in its deliberations. They are not necessarily things that have any direct relevance to the Chase, but they are things that help reinforce the connections you are making. And that also means that they are likely to be different for every searcher.

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Stone “triangle” in the Big Piney area

The two quartz-filled stones forming a triangular window are another example. These were so important to my developing trajectory in terms of confirmation that without discovering them I could easily have floundered. They would probably mean little or nothing to another searcher who happened upon them while on a different trajectory. And that’s another thing that I’ve changed my view on. There are many possible routes to the chest. It was only after discovering my end point that I realised I’d taken a particularly convoluted path. If I’d understood things better earlier on, the path would have been much simpler. So why did I find these stones that could have been placed there by anyone? Because my imagination needed them as a spur. A bit like, “…seek, and ye shall find.”

The “frog” offers another small insight. This was how I found it when first searching at this spot. It gave me a heck of a boost.

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Stone “frog” discovered near Marbleton, Wy in 2017

When we returned to the place this year, it never quite looked right. I tried to get the same angle and effect, but to a certain extent it eluded me. It’s not that there’s anything particularly different about it twelve months later – maybe just the lighting – but I’m not sure I would have even noticed it if I didn’t already know it was there. In other words, it had already given up its meaning to me, and because I no longer needed it to give my imagination fresh impetus, my subconscious now ignored it.

So my conclusion from all my “finds” (of which there are many), is that whether FF placed any, all or none of these, it doesn’t matter. What matters is whether you have created the conditions necessary for your imagination to assist you. But as I discovered to my family’s deep concern, there may be a price to pay for diving so far into the deep. Beware!

Crowhurst

And this might be an appropriate point to mention another book that passed my way from our book group: The Strange Last Voyage of Donald Crowhurst by Nicholas Tomalin and Ron Hall. This is a fascinating account of Crowhurst’s attempt at sailing singlehanded and nonstop around the world as part of a competition in the late ’60s. The work involved old-fashioned investigative journalism of a kind rarely seen these days, and uncovered a tale of hubris, fraud, resilience, shame, and (inferred) suicide. What is particularly intriguing towards the end is the state of mind of Captain Crowhurst as he tries to formulate a theory of man’s forthcoming evolution while drifting in the Atlantic, but descends into incoherence and madness. And although it’s tempting to ridicule the man for his vain attempts to set himself up as some kind of new prophet, his long, lonely days at sea had given him the opportunity to use similar techniques of “imaginative penetration” to those that I believe are required in the Chase. Unfortunately, he paid the price for straying off course (both literally and metaphorically) after being pierced by something from deep within.

 

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Petroglyph near Torrey Lake, Dubois, WY

One thing that shouldn’t be forgotten when considering the importance of imagination is that Forrest has said he would never tell anyone his secret spot. If that is literally true, then the poem, on its own, does not reveal the spot. If it did, that would contradict his statement, and he would have, by inference – even if only obliquely – told the whole world his hiding place. So although the poem contains all the ingredients necessary to discover the spot, the method of cooking is missing some vital instructions. In order to measure and mix all the ingredients in the right order, we’re going to need directions from the subconscious. Without them, the task is hopeless in my opinion. And specialized knowledge, beyond a comprehensive knowledge of geography, will yield nothing useful. To bake the cake according to Forrest’s recipe, we need to be able to navigate precisely, and rely on a level of imagination that approaches divination.

In support of that, and to suggest that logic, while important, can really only take you so far, I want to touch on a couple of things that have occurred to me since returning to the UK from my last search. Because I had left Wyoming with the job unfinished, I continued to ponder my finishing moves. This was around the time of the Dizzy Dean SB. A major breakthrough was forthcoming relatively quickly, and with the aid of Google I was able to home in on a spot which contained a symbol that echoed what I’d found at my start point. A helpful arrow was also visible nearby. I had been checking my progress against the website wherewarmwaters-halt.com that someone had referenced around that time. After congratulating myself for finding what I assumed was “the spot,” I was irritated to find the website continued to make insistent “noises.” At the same time I had the nagging suspicion that, despite what looked to me like a perfectly acceptable hiding place, I hadn’t quite finished. There were loose ends. During this time I was sending my “moves” to Forrest in somewhat coded form, and what seemed to be coming back via the website dovetailed neatly with my situation. (I have no idea who is actually behind that site.)

Suddenly, as I went over and over the data I had amassed, the penny dropped. I used a technique that I’d honed on previous excursions to pinpoint a spot – in a totally unexpected area – and noticed something in a Fenn drawing that seemed to offer support. But still the WWW-H website shouted its orders. I wasn’t done yet! This time, rather than use the website for confirmation, I allowed it to lead me to a spot about a mile distant that I should have noticed before but didn’t. The place had meaning for me via its distinctive rock formation. The website went quiet, and I breathed a sigh of relief, tinged with slight annoyance that I’d succumbed to being led rather than working it all out for myself. But my relative peace of mind didn’t last long. The combination of what I’d discovered at the spot, what I picked up from a few rather odd blog posters, and my own still rather fragile psyche’s promptings sent me into a downward spiral. Once more I endured terrifying thoughts and deep paranoid suspicions that lasted for days. It was very difficult trying to keep this from spilling over into my daily life and rekindling my wife’s angst.

But as I wrestled with these demons, a thought occurred to me. What would happen if I spun these thoughts 180 degrees? What if reinterpreting them as positive rather than negative symbols might be the way to go – and avoid a real crisis? So then began a slow but steady period of recuperation. Even though I’ve never been a very successful meditator, I tried to recall some of the techniques I had encountered briefly in the past. Things improved, and I continued with trying to use imagination in a wholly positive way. And that was when I began to discover its real power.

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Rainbow on the horizon near Fontenelle, WY

When you open up your imagination as a direct consequence of delving deep into the subconscious – in this case attempting to get on the same wavelength as Forrest Fenn – I believe that your subconscious will attempt to help you. This concept was brought into sharp relief for me during late summer as I tried my best to practise a form of mindfulness.

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The beautiful countryside of Montgomeryshire

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River Vyrnwy near Dolanog North Wales – a spot for tranquil contemplation

Here I was, back in Wales, not really thinking about the Chase anymore, when out of the blue I discovered that the coordinates of my home in Montgomeryshire, which we’d moved to from Oregon two years prior, added up to 166 – a really odd coincidence. I was jolted back into search mode, and tried to see if my subconscious was attempting to tell me something. For some reason I felt I had to visit the Rainbow horse riding trails in Dyfnant Forest, just a short distance away from where we live. Specifically, I felt directed towards the spot where a lookout tower used to be sited at the top of a hill to help protect the surrounding forest. There, my trusty GPS refused to function, and so I had to rely on intuition and what I remembered from the map to guide me to the exact location.

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One of four metal posts from the old Lookout Tower in Dyfnant Forest North Wales

I found the metal posts indicating where the tower had once stood in the middle of brambles and undergrowth. The trees had been felled in the immediate vicinity and on one stump just below the summit I spotted something rather bizarre. Three identical small pegs had been inserted into carefully drilled holes surrounding the center point of the tree rings.

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An odd, knotty find in the middle of nowhere

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The leaping hare

A beer bottle cap with the image of a leaping hare lay to one side. Why anyone would take the trouble to make this with such care and in such an awkward-to-access spot was beyond me. I spent hours pondering it, and then came across this whimsical piece of craftwork adorning a tree in our village a couple of days later.

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3 and a knot

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I did as I was asked

There appeared to be distinct correlations to many of the things that had featured in my Chase (the three-sided fire pit, the three-cornered stone, the three-coordinate rectangle, even the chalk graffiti at the Museum of the Mountain Man where “Fenn” looks like “Fe3 – with the “3″ twisted 90 degrees CCW.”)

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St. Melangell’s church at Pennant Melangell, North Wales

I had a look on GE and traced a line north through the two locations. Some miles distant, a third and related tri-pole symbol appeared in a village that I’d never heard of. Looking it up on Google, I found that Pennant Melangell hosts a church and shrine dedicated to Saint Melangell, a sixth century hermit and now the patron saint of hares. The coincidence was remarkable, if a little spooky.

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The shrine to St. Melangell, where pictures and postcards of hares have been placed by pilgrims

My wife and I visited the shrine, adorned with pilgrims’ images of hares, and took in the beautiful surroundings, including a rock shelf where the virgin hermit used to sleep out of the reach of wild animals.

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The rocks where the hermit St. Melangell slept during her life around the sixth century

I was perplexed. It was quite clear that Forrest had zero to do with the placing of the “symbols” that led me to the shrine. But they definitely had resonance for me in the Chase, and came amid a cascade of odd incidents, chance meetings, book readings, and online “contacts” that I couldn’t explain. A few seemed quite otherworldly. What I suspect is that Forrest knew he was setting up a “spiritual” challenge when he launched the Chase, but he probably had no personal knowledge of how this would affect each individual searcher with their unique insight and experiences. For me, it was a major process of spiritual discovery that has profoundly affected my worldview.

By the time we visited Pennant Melangell I’d stopped communicating directly with Forrest. But it seemed that he hadn’t quite finished with all of us. As autumn arrived, it came with a series of public communications from Fenn, which sent me wearily back to GE. I really didn’t want to be doing this anymore. Each of Forrest’s posts contained pointers. I used them to tie in with what I knew of the area of the Rockies I’d “landed” in. They helped me navigate to the blaze, and then (after a couple of false starts) to the final location, strangely only some 200 ft. from where I’d “spent” the previous couple of months, never noticing what was so close by. And at last things became clear. Here was the symbol that mirrored those at the two “ends.” Here was where you’d at last find J.C. Penney. Here was the place that finally brought the poem to a close – and for once I had no doubt in my mind.

But I could no longer claim that it was “my” doing. It was a question of making the effort over five years, yes, but then it was the recognition that not only had I made use of prompts from Forrest through his public utterances, and occasional searchers’ pointers, but also that whatever was at work deep below the conscious ego was far more in tune with events than “I” ever could be.

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Looking westward wistfully from Wales (actually it’s south, but I like the W’s!)

But despite all this the chest remains out there for anyone to find and retrieve. I don’t know whether circumstances will ever be right for me to return to the Rockies, and that’s hard to live with, admittedly, but I try to be content with things as they are. I stay off the blogs as much as possible in order to concentrate on “real” life, but as you can see I’m not always successful! (It may be that Forrest has also now withdrawn from public interaction, but only time will tell.) The Chase has taken me to the darkest places, but also to radiant uplands. I have made discoveries that go far beyond anything I could have imagined – and for that I’m eternally grateful. I certainly feel more “integrated” than I ever have done in my 65 years.

To wrap up these musings on imagination, I have a sneaking suspicion that the chest will only be recovered when it is ready to be recovered. Yes, that sounds fanciful and a bit “woo-woo,” but if you believe, as I do, that this a vision quest as much as it is a treasure hunt, it may require a certain state of mind and personal readiness. I know that all of this will send some searchers into fits of giggles, and others will just sigh and shake their heads, but that’s OK; there will be a few who will be curious and willing to keep an open mind, particularly when they return to some of the Scrapbooks and other Fenn writings with this in mind. Remember that there’s a reason the Little Girl from India can get no closer than the first two clues with her map and poem. Anyway, I apologize to those looking for concrete pointers that none of the places pictured here are anywhere near my final spot (nor even the places the first two clues lead), but I sincerely believe that those willing to delve deep can find the same haunting hillside that both beckons and bars me (for now). And lastly, to return to books, if any of you are into motor racing, and particularly Formula 1 (sorry, Nascar fans!), Damon Hill’s autobiography, Watching The Wheels, makes for a fascinating read, as well as touching tangentially on the theme of this post.

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-Voxpops

 

Pike’s Stockade…

November, 2018

By Amanda

 

This solve is mostly on private property so you will have to get permission from the owners to go in there. And that doesn’t mean they will let you. To do that you will have to either knock on some doors to figure out who the owner is or go to the assessor’s office.  I have only driven by and stopped on the county road stayed in my car to get my bearings but I do not suggest doing that. It is a good solve to look at in Google earth.

 

As I have (sieve) gone alone (lone, one) in there (hare-rabbit)
And (end) with my treasures (miter) bold (bowled),
I can keep (keap) my secret (seek ret) where (hare, weir),
And hint (indent) of riches new and (wand) old.

Begin it (ginnett ) where (weir or hare) warm waters halt (military term for rest)
And take (tack it like a sail boat) it in the canyon down,
Not far, but too (24) far to walk.
Put in below (be low) the home (ohm) of Brown (round).

From there it’s (rets) no place for the meek (meeke), (lacet?)
The end is ever (sever) drawing (a draw) nigh (nye);   
There’ll be (reel) no paddle (pattle) up your creek (the act of walking in shallow water),

Just heavy (juiste) (V) loads and (sand) water high.

 If you’ve been (bean) wise (wisen) and found the blaze (Z) (belays, Belize),
Look (loke) quickly down, your quest (stow, west?) to cease (cees),
But tarry (ute ) scant (secant) with marvel gaze (gaize) (V),

Just take (stake or tack) the chest and (stand) go in peace

So (sow soe) why (Y) is it that I (tie) must go (geo)
And leave (levee) my trove (rove) for all to seek (secant?)
The answers I (eye) already (reedy or red) know,
I’ve done it tired (tiered, tied or red)(McIntyre springs), and now I’m weak ( weck) and barely visible).

So (sow, soe) hear me (heme or army arm, mall) all and (land) listen (list) good (goode),
Your effort (reef)(fort)will be worth (bow or earth) the cold (cole or col).
If you (hue) are brave and (ravine) in the (dent)(hue) wood (woad)
I give you (ute) title (tittle) to the gold (geo, heg or toggle).

 Look on a map and you will see the following NEAR the fort (Pikes Stockade)( army) at 24 and Y (24 too far to walk) roads 24 south as it veers left and ends (a loke OR THE END). The Conejos river (meaning rabbit) meandering river and all the agriculture associated with the valley such as growing the grain for Coors beer (wizen).  Growing beans cabbage (cole) with cows and steak.  Cutting hay. Also a lot of tarry scant (grease wood).  In winter you want to be n the other side so you don’t have to cross the freezing river. Follow road V out of Sandford CO go left on W it is a paved one lane road.  You will see saddleback mt and once you cross the Conjeos River look to the left.  The Sierro del Ojioto just a small hill is not impressive as it is no more than a sand pit (geo, white gaize) that is the blaze as it gazes up with it’s eyes about the size of small swimming pool with another weird looking eye.  You can see it from the road.  There are no trespassing signs everywhere so you have to ask the owner.(Google map view not in satellite mode) you will see 2 large Cs looks a lot like the omegas but only in map mode. One is in the circle of irrigation crops. I drove by several times and thought what a yucky place but to each his own.

WWWH is the warm spring at McIntire Springs where it goes into the cold Conjeos river an archeology dig at near sierra del ojito (small hill) yielded several things including writing (tarry scant)(see link at bottom of page)  so the hill is the home of the Brown the Ute many arrowheads also were found hence all the references to arrows in the poem. Pikes Stockade contained a pvt. john brown and sgt meek was one of his pikes men (don’t know if meek made it over there though. Near Sanford (sand) near sierra del ojito (eyes and dents sand) near saddleback mt (col – the lowest point of a ridge or saddle) near Lassuas meaning reedy N of V road.

  1. Solve 1. Sierro del Ojito This is private property so I assume either the first house or the one further back are the owners I do not know.  So again ask first. Should be in the irrigation ditch (you have to go in there put yourself in)directly below the white eye aka the blaze behind the trailer house and before the river to the north (just a round pile of sand) oyos you can see it in map quest it is in the shape of a V.  A newer ditch than the others. I am thinking it is at the corner where it changes direction in a mitre 90 degrees the corner but anywhere along that ditch might have to follow it back toward the spring or the other way.  It looks like other ditches are around too so it may be in one of the other ones too. If its in one of the older ditches I would think it would be closer to the sand pit. It should be barely visible however it has been several years so if one has a metal detector you could go faster. I assume there is a little water in the big v shaped ditch but maybe not during the winter. I don’t know if it involves a rope and spike but fyi in case I may be off on that . If you go in summer many rattlesnakes beware no place for the meek. Also means you can’t plow there. 
  1. Solve 2. Start at the end of 24 road by pikes stockade. Will have to cross the river (walk barefoot through shallow water) unless you start on the other side if its winter North of Saddleback Mt in There is a small dam (weir or levee) in the shape of a V.  Cross the river. There is a large irrigation reel tiered (water high and heavy loads with a generator )(ret-watering). Irrigation makes a loud sound (hear me).could be described as a Secant with a wand, there should be a small ravine a draw, a geo with red hew tint probably oxidized metal ore–the (heme iron stained reef or metallic looking if not red) blaze near some trees perhaps a dry stream where the treasure will be barely visible. Might be some muddy water near might be in a dent. Possibly a generator or electric near supplying the irrigation or near where the water source.  Might mean belays or stakes tied to something. Might find the treasure right in there.
  1. Solve 3. Might be in the warm spring (soe a warm bucket also means warm, rope) or a bucket like thing like a well or a trough or a bucket under a windmill. Very near one of the arms..Look for tin, lid, projecting part of something, toggle a stake, a tine, stand or rope. A soe might be in McIntyre spring There is one tree near the spring and a dam. Lots of white rock around

I initially thought that the whole san luis valley was wwwh as it is a closed basin and mt Blanca was the blaze as you can see it from the whole valley.

Tittle-small part of something or the dot above a j or i. or teat as in bird or nib-small pointed projecting part

Rove-meander or a sliver of cotton fiber drawn out (rope?) and slightly twisted for preparing to spin or a small metal place or ring or Rove-archery term

Marble gaize-white rock

Geo-small fiord or gulley

Bellow-roar

Nye-flock of birds

Wizen-grain for making beer

Miter bisecting 90 degrees or like mitre tapering to a point in front or back a v

Belays-spike of rock used for tying off a rope or the rope

Keap-concerning agriculture

Weck-weck grain for bread

Ginnet- mule

Billow-spiral

Weir-low dam across river

Juiste-right extended piece

Pattle-small spade to get dirt off plough

Onan-type of generator

Reef- a metalliferous mineral deposit especially one that contains gold

Stow-deposit

Friche-fallow land

Loke-dead end lane

Velga-meadow

Heg-a barrier that serves to enclose an area,

Lacet- knot on a rope

Mall-a sheltered walk or promenade.

Woad=yellow flower scrub ragwort

 

http://legacy.historycolorado.org/sites/default/files/files/OAHP/Programs/PAAC_PikeStockade_Survey_Report_nomap.pdf

https://www.google.com/maps/place/Pikes+Stockade+(replica)/@37.2809337,-105.8349851,14.25z/data=!4m5!3m4!1s0x0:0xec515ac32dfdcdc!8m2!3d37.2940897!4d-105.8103501

see the two horseshoe shaped water areas or oxbows

 

 

 

 

 

Odds n Ends About Fenn’s Treasure Hunt…Part Seventy

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Please click on the comment balloon below to contribute to the discussion of  Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Hunt. Please note that many topics have their own pages. Please scroll through the blog to see all the discussion pages. There are also stories, scrapbooks, searcher’s reports general information, tips from Forrest, a rumors blog and even email responses from Forrest. So please look around and if you want to make a comment please use the most appropriate page.

Thanks…

 

dal…

Odds n Ends About Fenn’s Treasure Hunt…Part Sixty Nine

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Please click on the comment balloon below to contribute to the discussion of  Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Hunt. Please note that many topics have their own pages. Please scroll through the blog to see all the discussion pages. There are also stories, scrapbooks, searcher’s reports general information, tips from Forrest, a rumors blog and even email responses from Forrest. So please look around and if you want to make a comment please use the most appropriate page.

Thanks…

 

dal…

A Brown for the Times…

October, 2018

By Stephan

 

William Harvey Brown, b.1862, d.1913

A stout-hearted man if ever there was one!  I imagine that all three of his names will certainly ring a bell with searchers.  Born in South Africa to American parents and later educated at Cornell, he worked for the Smithsonian, and spent more than a few years roaming the Rockies and the American West.  A naturalist, he collected specimens of mammals for display in the museums of his day, rubbing shoulders with some of the 19th Century’s most accomplished taxidermists.  He ended his life in South Africa.

It could well be that museums such as the Denver Museum display to this day some of his specimens in their taxidermy collections.

On one of his expeditions, he helped establish a scientific camp high in the Rockies, which was dubbed “Camp Brown Bear Trail”, so named for the many grizzly trails which then criss-crossed that area.  He resided there for several weeks and hunted for grizzly.

The following is an actual account  from recollections of those days:

“I went up the side of a steep mountain following a small stream to its head.  I chose a large flat rock at the edge of a ledge for my camping place.  The view was marvelous.  On the rock I soon had a fine fire going.  Water was heated and venison toasted.  Though tired, I was much refreshed and cut a great stock of fir spruce boughs which were to serve for a bed that night.  A goodly quantity of wood was gathered for the fire,(which) was now removed nearer the edge of the rock and the spruce boughs spread down.  I stretched my weary bones out on that bed of Mexican feathers and really almost went to sleep and would have had not the fire burned low and a horrible dream about a grizzly roused me.”

Well, I figured this small stream he followed was the creek to paddle up and I figured that this ledge just had to be the blaze in Forrest Fenn’s poem, what with campfires blazing and bones and all..  And wouldn’t you know it, after some considerable effort (difficult but not impossible) and some years, I finally found the Ledge and stood upon it.  The view was truly marvelous.  And yes, I had already considered where warm waters halt: and it led me right to it.

But before I ever went to the Ledge, I figured I had better give the poem a once-over just in case I missed anything.  Good thing I did:

Scant (from Wiktionary)- a block of stone, sawn on two sides down to the bed level.

Marvel (from the Shorter Oxford)- see also marvil.  A child’s marble.

Tarry- of, like, or covered in tar; splattered with tar.

Clear as day, then:  I knew I needed to find a block of stone with black flecks and a marble-like marking of some kind on its face, probably white.

Since I knew Forrest Fenn was a marble champion in 7th grade, I knew I was onto something:

So I climbed to the Ledge at last. It was at an altitude of just barely under 10,200 feet.   I took my best friend with me.  Together we stood on that Ledge, and we keenly felt that we had found Forrest’s special spot.  To stand on the actual rock where a brave and wise naturalist had once camped in the late 19th Cenury, when the wilds were still wild.  He had  even carried a Sharps rifle, as if he wasn’t already wise enough.  And below us, a rare fisherman’s paradise, but virtually unknown, with two perfectly symmetrical horseshoe bends.

Then we turned and gasped as we saw the block of stone beneath us on the Ledge, so scant-like, with a marble on it.  We gazed on it in awe.  But evening drew nigh and so we resolved to return the next day.  And then that night it snowed and snowed.

-by Stephan

 

 

Home of Brown…

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This is for a discussion about “the home of Brown” in Forrest’s poem.

Got an HOB that didn’t work out…or maybe you need an HOB for a certain area…or perhaps you have an idea that needs some fleshing out..

This is the place to discuss all things HOB…

dal…

Odds n Ends About Fenn’s Treasure Hunt…Part Sixty Eight

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This page is now closed to new comments. To continue the discussion please go to the newest Odds n Ends page.

Please click on the comment balloon below to contribute to the discussion of  Forrest Fenn’s Treasure Hunt. Please note that many topics have their own pages. Please scroll through the blog to see all the discussion pages. There are also stories, scrapbooks, searcher’s reports general information, tips from Forrest, a rumors blog and even email responses from Forrest. So please look around and if you want to make a comment please use the most appropriate page.

Thanks…

 

dal…

An Argument for New Mexico…


October, 2018

By Clearly Clueless

 

 

I just got back from a trip to the Rocky Mountains with my sister. We had a blast. Last year it was my parents who I dragged out there. We had a blast then, too. We enjoyed several different areas and lots of touristy things. In between stomping through woods and looking for “you know what”, we managed to see lots of balloons in Albuquerque and grab some culture and coffee in Santa Fe. I was one day away from that last book signing….Argggghhh. And, Will in the bookstore did not even mention it, the day before when I popped in…..hmmm.
Things I love about New Mexico….
1. It holds Indulgence …In My Opinion… and I would like to make a case for this below.
2. My hair was not frizzy while there. LOVE this!
3. No allergy problems while there.
4. The weather is so ever changing, the climate is so diverse. I saw a rainbow after getting     pelted by sleet. Strangely, it was very cold in the mornings, but we weren’t miserable. Pleasant.
5. New Mexico has a funny sense of humor. What are you people mowing?

Ok, here is what lead me to search in New Mexico.
In my opinion we read through the poem more than once….several times.
I think the first time through, Mr. Fenn gets us to the correct state.
So, I am going to go through the poem ONLY ONE time THIS TIME and I am going to use Mr. Fenn’s poem/map.

Question: “Are there clues in the TFTW book?”
“Yes, because the map is in the book.”- Forrest Fenn

Question: “Are there clues in the TTOTC book?”
“Yes, because the poem is in the book.” -Forrest Fenn

In my opinion, you have to use his map and his poem.
Ok, go get your copy of Mr. Fenn’s map and let’s look/listen and go through the poem.
“Begin it where warm waters halt….”
Start in Colorado.
Colorado means “colored red”.
Red is a warm color.
So I began “where warm waters halt” at the bottom of the Colorado boarder.
“And take it in the canyon down.” ….the bottom border of Colorado.
Now that we are looking at Mr. Fenn’s map, you will see some Brown shading at that Colorado and New Mexico boarder….go on…look ….why don’t we “put in below the home of Brown.”
*Remember, I believe I am going through this poem several times to get information.
*In my opinion, Brown will be something else another time through.
Now that brown shading takes us down to the wrong end of “NEW”.
If, following along this way, we will have to read backwards.
No problem.
“WEN”
In Britain, “wen” can refer to a large, crowded urban area.
Which I take to mean “no place for the meek.”
After this, we get the idea to go the end of the next word “Mexico”.
So lets goooooo……..
Now, I do realize I skipped a whole lot of words and thoughts, that is ok.
To me some of the other words are important in other ways, other times through.
I can go through with his poem on other maps and in other areas and “see other things.”
This time through I see “New Mexico”.
Does anybody else see “New Mexico”?
Has anybody else found other pictures?
One time through, if you have the right map…..you will grin and smile and want to go running to a particular area in New Mexico.
I live too far off to keep running, I would love a partner who thinks like this.
“Chasing” in metal work is beautiful.
I think Mr. Fenn has brilliantly chased a beautiful picture using his poem.
I do hope the treasure is found soon.
Any comments on going through the poem this way?

Clearly Clueless
P.S. Not Clueless on the clues, I think I have found all 9. I am clueless on how the clues “lead” us to the treasure. I do have some ideas.
I do have one spot, I would love someone to go over.

-Clearly Clueless