I'll occasionally buy a Powerball ticket when the prize climbs to nine figures. This astounds a few of my more rational friends. But for folks like me, it's not that we're ignorant to the laws of probability. We simply want a $2 day-dream enhancer. What will my first moves be when I buy the Royals? Etc. And okay maybe part of us thinks some magic remains in the universe, that destiny might just transcend probability. It's in this same spirit that I set out on a quest for the Forrest Fenn treasure.
To catch up on the Forrest Fenn story click here. Basically, a visionary gentleman hid an antique chest containing $2 million in gold and jewels somewhere in the "Rockies north of Santa Fe." He then wrote this diabolical poem:
As I have gone alone in there
And with my treasures bold,
I can keep my secret where,
And hint of riches new and old.
Begin it where warm waters halt
And take it in the canyon down,
Not far, but too far to walk.
Put in below the home of Brown.
From there it's no place for the meek,
The end is ever drawing nigh;
There'll be no paddle up your creek,
Just heavy loads and water high.
If you've been wise and found the blaze,
Look quickly down, your quest to cease,
But tarry scant with marvel gaze,
Just take the chest and go in peace.
So why is it that I must go
And leave my trove for all to seek?
The answer I already know,
I've done it tired, and now I'm weak.
So hear me all and listen good,
Your effort will be worth the cold.
If you are brave and in the wood
I give you title to the gold.
Boom! My literary analysis skills may finally come in handy. Thanks Mrs. Wareham, I'll flip you a doubloon. I had been considering my first true road trip in years down to my friend's wedding. The gold sealed the deal.
My first instincts led me to the Cimarron Canyon SP area, perhaps because it was conveniently located directly between Denver and Tucson, we'll never know. Clues started to "line up". A dam in the vicinity of the base of Agua Fria peak? Why not? Famous brown trout fishing waters, Cimarron meaning pretty much the opposite of meek, canyons, waterfalls. 6 stanza poem of 4 lines each, Highway 64!?!? Now we're cooking with gas! In reality, this was me:
My first instincts led me to the Cimarron Canyon SP area, perhaps because it was conveniently located directly between Denver and Tucson, we'll never know. Clues started to "line up". A dam in the vicinity of the base of Agua Fria peak? Why not? Famous brown trout fishing waters, Cimarron meaning pretty much the opposite of meek, canyons, waterfalls. 6 stanza poem of 4 lines each, Highway 64!?!? Now we're cooking with gas! In reality, this was me:
After inconclusive satellite recon, I decided I'd stop by on my way down to Tucson and see if the landscape tightened up into the poem. First impression is that it did not. The connections were loose at best (loose = opposite of tight, public service announcement for seemingly the entire internet). As Murtaugh would tell Riggs, "this is pretty thin." I even camped in the park the night before, hoping, much like Duke in City Slickers 2, to hear the gold singing "come and get me, come and get me". Nothing.
But hey, I'll take some hikes and maybe stumble upon the horde. I've never paid more attention to tree graffiti in my life. Scanned nearly all of them for "the blaze". Maybe a "FF" or better yet, a "Treasure" with an arrow pointing. Instead all I learned was that Jim Bob loved Tina, at least in 1998. Anything that looked out of place I examined. Nada. It makes you start to go crazy. And the more miles I trudged, the more I questioned how an 80 year old could carry 40 pounds of treasure this far. Or perhaps he's Jack LaLanne. In the end all I found, at the turnaround point on both trails actually, were deer bones, including a mega disconcerting pair of freshly severed legs. Time to go.
But hey, I'll take some hikes and maybe stumble upon the horde. I've never paid more attention to tree graffiti in my life. Scanned nearly all of them for "the blaze". Maybe a "FF" or better yet, a "Treasure" with an arrow pointing. Instead all I learned was that Jim Bob loved Tina, at least in 1998. Anything that looked out of place I examined. Nada. It makes you start to go crazy. And the more miles I trudged, the more I questioned how an 80 year old could carry 40 pounds of treasure this far. Or perhaps he's Jack LaLanne. In the end all I found, at the turnaround point on both trails actually, were deer bones, including a mega disconcerting pair of freshly severed legs. Time to go.
These don't belong. Perhaps if I peer through the treasure will be.....sigh. |
I could have walked right past the chest or it could be in Montana. If I was close and you read this, send me a personal clue Forrest! I promise to re-hide the chest when my time draws near with whatever wealth I may accumulate in life (so probably my old baseball card collection) and write an equally sadistic poem.
Mr. Fenn's whole goal was to get people out enjoying nature, and I definitely did. The thrill of the hunt served as merely a bonus. Any excuse to stop at odd road side attractions, devour green chile bacon wraps in a little cafe in Taos, and blast down gorgeous back roads listening to old Black Keys, Chili Peppers, and Country Mice provides reward in itself. Thanks for the adventure!
Mr. Fenn's whole goal was to get people out enjoying nature, and I definitely did. The thrill of the hunt served as merely a bonus. Any excuse to stop at odd road side attractions, devour green chile bacon wraps in a little cafe in Taos, and blast down gorgeous back roads listening to old Black Keys, Chili Peppers, and Country Mice provides reward in itself. Thanks for the adventure!
VLA = Very Large Array |
"Tom Mix wept." |
Canyon de Chelly |
Other road trip thoughts:
Camping alone
At various points I was to have company on this trip but jobs (Joe) and kids (Josef) and general lack of fanhood (Nick) get in the way. Such is life. No problem. My only qualm about camping alone is my vivid imagination at night. Not worried about bears or real things, more like aliens, skinwalkers, or deranged drifters. Presents the age old question: rain fly on or off the tent? Off you get better air circulation and can see the stars, but you'll inevitably wake to Bigfoot staring in at you. All I had was my wolf knife. Next time I'll bring a dog, a gun, or a girlfriend.
And the unforeseen hiccup to camping in the Southwest proved to be fire restrictions. A raging inferno to stare at counts as company. But 2/3 campsites banned fire . Then the night devolves into me sitting in the dark drinking my illegal glass bottle beers, eating Goldfish crackers, and staring at the full moon. Still, I found some beautiful sites and had a great time.
And the unforeseen hiccup to camping in the Southwest proved to be fire restrictions. A raging inferno to stare at counts as company. But 2/3 campsites banned fire . Then the night devolves into me sitting in the dark drinking my illegal glass bottle beers, eating Goldfish crackers, and staring at the full moon. Still, I found some beautiful sites and had a great time.
- My trip covered around 2000 miles and yet only 3 states. That's how big the U.S. is, foreign pals. London to Istanbul is only 1900 miles, albeit one way. And I must say my new (to me) car handled itself admirably on it's first true test. You're my boy, Blue. Hwy 191 through the Apache National Forest was particularly challenging and amazing! The only road complaint? In New Mexico they seem to be holding a contest for world's worst driver. So far I'd say it's neck and neck between just about everyone!
Small town USA
Eagle's Nest, NM would qualify. Alternating American flags and big ass bald eagle flags lined the highway for a mile into town each way, in case you forgot what country you were in. I ate dinner in a small, kitschy cafe. The older hostess, in a voice mirroring the mother-in-law in No Country for Old Men, complained about presumably her oldies CD. "This ain't music with all this yelling." "Ma'am, that's James Brown!" And it was one of his tamer songs. And limited topics exist to discuss in a town of 300. The next 3 people who ambled in uttered some variation of, "Ed, so I hear they got you driving the bus."
- Arizona, you and your wily, don't-care-about-daylight- savings-time attitude almost got me in trouble. Arrived at Catalina State Park, attempted a 3pm hike, fuck that! Started one at 5:30pm thinking I had the sunset time down pat from my previous night in western New Mexico. Forgotten time change! Got a little dicey as I bounded down the rocky path while my flashlight unsurprisingly sat back at camp. Thanks, full moon!
Animals
Saw the following: ubiquitous deer and antelope, prairie dogs (R.I.P. one, but seriously, there were no other cars within 5 miles either way and you chose to cross then!), a horned toad, eagles, hawks, huge jack rabbits, roadrunner, gila monster, a rattlesnake!, elk, and a wild Wildenradt. Unfortunately no bears. Luckily no mountain lions on my impromptu night hike. And sadly nothing otherworldly despite going through notoriously eerie locales like Taos, Dulce, Socorro, and the Navajo Reservation. I might have heard the Taos Hum though. Heard something strange. Love New Mexico, the Land of Enchantment indeed.
Your world, Bessie. |
Pardon me. Do you happen to know where the gold is at? |
Gah, saw this guy driving to the trailhead. Thought about that the whole hike. |
- Shout-out to the biker ladies who run the Whitten Inn. I rolled in after a day of driving and hiking and still being a little hungover from the epic wedding. They took mercy on my disheveled soul and offered me the manager's special rate and a free cold beer! Thoughtful and much needed. Thanks.
Best Wedding Ever
And finally thanks to Ben and Anja for giving me the excuse to take an amazing road trip. Their couch in Brooklyn was actually the very first stop of my world tour. I've attended myriad weddings, but this seriously wins the crown. The "Hey Dude" Ranch, free orange shades, dunking on each other on 8ft basketball goals, cute vows, Cottonwood grove dinner, Caribou-Lou shots on the dance floor!!!! Any excuse to get the KU band back together is glorious, but this was next level. Thanks and congratulations!
Solemn passage of the Lack of Fanhood Award. |
And now all good things must come to an end (that's a shitty saying, isn't it?). This road trip marked the last hurrah of a refreshing year of travel and adventure. Full time job search starts legit now. Ideas? Let me know. But don't feel too sad for me, a Turkey/Bulgaria/Romania trip might be in the pipeline.....and that treasure's still out there!