Scrapbook Ninety Five…




I was on Renelle’s treasure quest with her…..more the brawn than the brains.  She may have told you about me.  I worked with her in the Tetons.  I was her legs on a number of adventures as she would send me off into the hills with a set of GPS coordinates and an X on a map.  More than once, as I was thrashing through the brush, climbing over rocks, or staggering down a steep hillside, I wondered, ‘could that guy really have gotten the treasure here’?  We had some fun adventures, and I always hoped that I would find that box hidden away at the point she had sent me to.  She was so captivated by her search for the treasure, and except for her many sleepless nights of research, I think it was the most wonderful distraction for her.

We had a wonderful gathering of folks here in the Tetons to commemorate Renelle’s life.  She will be sorely missed.  The most repeated theme that day was how much Renelle embraced life.  What a wonderful inspiration!

Thank you for embracing Renelle too.  She had such wonderful times meeting you and sharing experiences with other treasure hunters.  I, like others, find some solace in the thought that perhaps Renelle’s spirit was finally able to find the treasure. ……..and if it did, maybe you felt a little poke in the ribs and heard Renelle say “HA!”.

PS- One fun story- On one trip to Gardiner, Renelle sent me way up towards the top of Sphinx Mountain.  It was a long sweaty climb with a great view from the top.  When I arrived back at the parking lot, we met a camper there named Bob.  We visited just a bit and then drove five hours back to the Tetons, arriving late in the evening.  I collapsed that night exhausted and woke to a phone call from Renelle at 4am.  She hadn’t slept a wink, and told me that she had to go right back up and talk to Bob.  I said there was no way she was going to drive five hours on no sleep, so I picked her up and away we went.  We had an interesting, if not surreal, visit with Bob in his tent at the trailhead later that morning.  I don’t think that visit got us any closer to the treasure, but we made a friend in Bob, and those hours on the road through Yellowstone with Renelle will be fond memories that I will cherish forever.

Thank You.
Scott Guenther


Thanks for the note Scott. Renelle and I talked often and she spoke fondly about giving you her heart by proxy. It was such a beautiful heart. f

Scrapbook Ninety Four…



This ode to the chase was forwarded to me from a searcher who wants to remain anon because he thinks he knows where the treasure is and doesn’t want the birds to give away his secret. Everyone will recognize that it’s a take-off from Edgar Allen Poe’s Quote the Raven Nevermore. f


Only the Phantom

Once upon a night inspired, while I pondered weak and tired,
Over many a curious volume laden with a treasure lore,
While I plotted on its mapping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As a Shadow’s gently rapping, rapping at my bedroom door.
‘`Tis a butterfly,’ I muttered, ‘fluttered by my bedroom door –
Only this, and nothing more.’

Ah, distinctly a tinkling bell rings in the spirit of a spell,
I listened good and listened well… there was no ringing at the door.
So, eager for a bath and rest; -as vainly I had sought the best
Path forward to surcease the quest – fulfill the quest for gold and more,
That it begins where eagles nest, then down into the canyon’s core –
Nameless here for evemore.

Suddenly my soul grew weaker; Shadow at the inter. speaker,
‘Sir,’ said I, my heart grows meeker, ‘this IS my place so I implore;
But the fact is I was halting, these hot waters from exalting
These warm waters from assaulting, threshold of the bathroom door’,
And, as I slipped into my sneaker, looked quickly down through open door; –
Shadow there, and nothing more.

Then fast asleep, lasting escape…, there’s rustling of the Phantom’s cape
That chased me – thrilled me with fantastic and covered me from pore to pore;
So that now, my heart stopped beating, through the shadow twilight fleeting
‘`Tis the Shadow now entreating and this fantasy explore.
Moaning Phantom at the window, knowing Shadow through the door;-
This is it and nothing more,’

And as the evening shades prevail, thinking of those who passed the vale,
Attentive still to Phantom’s wail, heard somewhat louder than before.
As the silence was then broken, but the Shadow gave no token
And the only words then spoken were the whispered words, ‘NO MORE!’
`Twas Phantom on my bathroom scale, wishing he was just forty-four,
Ounces that is, and nothing more.

‘There’s circumstantial evidence, I’ll be your guide in dream or trance,
Through wiles of nature, circum-stance; you’ll tract a thread to golden ore’,
Said Phantom perched upon the scale. ‘And have you trekked this secret trail?’
Asked I, afraid the chase might fail, ‘Have you’ve been down this path before?’
‘Alone and bold I went by chance’. ‘Phantom!’ said I, ‘but that’s infernal’,
And the moment seemed eternal… ‘How deeper then, should I explore?”
Quoth the Phantom, ‘Four-two-four’.
Merely this and nothing more.

And if this blending plagiarism, seems poor labour of a mime.
That changes… looking through the prism, of vodka raspberry and lime.
For, in expanding Universe, there is no lesser of a crime,
Than at the ending of a verse, copying and pasting of a rhyme.
It could be worse! (I’m out of time)

The Phantom