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The Wolf Returns (I)
08-14-2016, 08:02 PM, (This post was last modified: 10-14-2016, 07:29 AM by The Wolf.)
#1
The Wolf Returns (I)
With momentum gaining, it soon came together; I had constructed the quintessential solution but there was no way that I could retrieve the treasure chest. I had promised Mrs. Wolf never to mention Forrest Fenn again. Now I know what you are all thinking, and before you all get too carried away, let’s set the record straight. Even though she is the matriarch, I am the alpha wolf and I can cross that street anytime I want; I just choose not to. I contemplated how to deal with this conundrum when I realized something very important—so important in fact, that it threatened to destroy the cohesive fibre that wove our family existence. I still had one child that hadn’t participated in the thrill of the chase! My son Alex was at university when we first searched, and he was working when we experienced it the second time. I pleaded to her senses of family and fairness and explained that she couldn’t just exclude one child from this adventure. She briefly paused. I had her undivided attention, so I went for the jugular and played my ace: “And besides, he is very lucky.” Somehow Alex seemed to win everything just like World War I flying ace Billy Bishop, history’s most victorious fighter pilot. To be honest, I think his luck is just some weird mathematical phenomenon, but what she thought was all that mattered. She told me that she needed to sleep on it and that was all I could ask from her.
The next thing I knew, I was on a flight to meet my lucky son in Santa Fe. It was Gina’s reluctant acknowledgement of Alex’s luck that decisively convinced her. On the drive up to Pilar, we had an enjoyable discussion about school, girls, and life in general. One of the best benefits of the thrill of the chase is that it brings families together. Once we arrived, we confirmed the location where the Agua Caliente Creek worked its way into the Rio Grande Canyon at the town of Pilar. Many folks have remarked that it is an excellent brown trout fishing spot, but what I found quite interesting was the chest’s design, because Romanesque construction is known for its use of pillars. This little known fact gave credence to my newly adopted multiple meaning theory.
Next, we followed the Rio Grande Canyon down exactly ten miles until we found the confluence between the Embudo Creek and the Rio Grande. This junction would be where the “home of Brown” existed because this was the home where the miner Juan Brown lived. The La Bosa Cemetery was also just above this confluence. Forrest Fenn talked about “brown gravy” in his memoir and I took that to be a hint to “home of Brown”—a graveyard.
This fact was a nice coincidence, but on both sides of this confluence were distinct hills. Yes, these two hills were the suspicious ΩΩ. The Embudo creek ran through the middle of these twin hills and the “end is drawing nigh” suggested that we must have been close and that we must remain on the left side. So we followed the Embudo creek until it met a bridge where the “heavy loads” of vehicles were supported. Because I postulated that the correct solution must merge into one common theme to strengthen the solution, I reflected upon Forrest’s touching story of the blacksmith making horseshoes and how much iron is required to make a horseshoe. Horseshoes just happen to resemble an Ω.
If you examine the two rivers from a bird’s eye view on a topographic map, it looks exactly like an Ω or a horseshoe.
There was no way that one could “paddle up this creek” because it was an excellent area for river rafting, and thus, “no place for the meek.” Forrest used the word “creek” in the clue “no paddle up your creek” and because the Embudo Creek was the only creek that flowed into the Rio Grande south of Pilar for miles, this solution was building strength. On the other side of the bridge existed a small ford, or shallow river crossing. This was very important because Forrest constantly referred to Miss Ford and he bet his money on Diggin’ Gypsy because she “parts out” that Ford truck to fund her search, which could be linked to his memoir’s subtle hint, “any part of some is better than no part of any.”
Initially, I was skeptical of this solution because the nearest waterfall was five miles up the Embudo Creek and I was about to abandon this solution when I focused on both night being near and those unique ΩΩ hills. When we examined those two hills, they did in fact appear to be two ΩΩs, “side by each," as the Newfoundlanders would say. When we followed the creek around to the bridge, we noticed a small irrigation canal, matching the “water high” clue, following along the creek bank, which began at the bridge. “Wow,” I thought, “that certainly is inventive and inconspicuous.” It was easy to deduce why so many searchers could just walk on by this area because the remaining clues were concealed. Once we arrived at the bridge, it was not apparent what we should do next.
Now that we were at location referenced by the “heavy loads and water high” clue, I recalled the T.S. Eliot poem “Little Gidding,” where he wrote about returning to see the beginning as if for the first time. Much speculation surrounds the meaning of this circular reference and when we searched to the west around this hill, we spotted the La Bolsa Cemetery. Cemeteries and graves have received a substantial amount of attention when defining the clues, so much discussion that Forrest had to add another clue via The Today Show, just to tell everyone not to dig up graves.
What a stroke of luck it was as we gazed at the unusual rock formation behind the cemetery. On top of it were two crosses, and one of them was tilted over just like the cross in the photo where Forrest sat on the gravestone. That tilted cross resembled an “X." We contemplated: could this be the blaze? Forrest said he wasn’t going to put an “X” on the map and traditional treasure hunts do have “X”s on their maps, so why would this have been any different?
When we looked quickly down, we saw only the cemetery, but Forrest said we couldn’t dig there; thus, we continued to follow the northern twin hill around and circled back to the Rio Grande, just like the TS Eliot poem suggested. We rotated our heads like wise owls and glanced back towards the “X” from the other side of the hill. The location was so isolated, tranquil, that we felt at peace and we had the whole river to ourselves.
When we looked quickly down from the “X," or cross, on top of the unique rock formation, we located a grove of juniper trees along the river’s shoreline. Ah, the “in the wood” hint now made sense as the wood grove was shaped exactly like a “ω,” the lower case Greek letter, Ω. This spot could be Forrest’s secret fishing hole.
We anxiously hustled down the hill into complete seclusion as we wisely speculated that previous searchers were within 500 feet of the treasure while they were on the wrong side of the hill looking for the trove near the cemetery. I internally boasted to myself about how we had outsmarted those unfortunate souls that had come so close to the chest. We could almost smell the gold! It was a glorious and euphoric moment.
After two hours of turning over every rock and log, we tired of watching those insects scurrying for safety. Reality sunk in and I began to panic and questioned whether my lucky son was lucky after all. As it began to darken, we returned to the cemetery. Alex wouldn’t go in because he is like that, so I went in alone and once again plunked myself onto some guy’s gravestone where I began to ponder. How could I have gotten this wrong again? I was so confident, I couldn’t be wrong, and yet we had no treasure. Yep, someone must have gotten there before me! No, wait! That is what searchers think when they are in denial. Was I in denial? Had I once again let “gold fever” get the better of my otherwise rational thought? Then I started to honestly worry, as the horrible reality started to haunt me. I would have to eat that humble pie in front those relentless and unforgiving bloggers. I could hear them now, laughing behind those monitors. How could I ever moderate the blog with authority again after such a humiliating defeat? Surely I had learned something. I realized that I should never have used such confident language on the blog.
The crimson sky glowed dim as the sun slowly set behind the ornamental rock formation. Before I stood up, I gazed up at the wooden cross one last time and marveled at the pulchritude of this place that overshadowed my humiliation. Well, it was time to face the music...

Part II
http://www.chasechat.com/showthread.php?tid=1236

read more or purchase my book at http://www.findingfenn.com

Thank you for supporting cancer research.
The Wolf
http://www.FindingFenn.com
Reply
11-17-2016, 08:05 PM,
#2
RE: The Wolf Returns (I)
(08-14-2016, 08:02 PM)The Wolf Wrote: With momentum gaining, it soon came together; I had constructed the quintessential solution but there was no way that I could retrieve the treasure chest. I had promised Mrs. Wolf never to mention Forrest Fenn again. Now I know what you are all thinking, and before you all get too carried away, let’s set the record straight. Even though she is the matriarch, I am the alpha wolf and I can cross that street anytime I want; I just choose not to. I contemplated how to deal with this conundrum when I realized something very important—so important in fact, that it threatened to destroy the cohesive fibre that wove our family existence. I still had one child that hadn’t participated in the thrill of the chase! My son Alex was at university when we first searched, and he was working when we experienced it the second time. I pleaded to her senses of family and fairness and explained that she couldn’t just exclude one child from this adventure. She briefly paused. I had her undivided attention, so I went for the jugular and played my ace: “And besides, he is very lucky.” Somehow Alex seemed to win everything just like World War I flying ace Billy Bishop, history’s most victorious fighter pilot. To be honest, I think his luck is just some weird mathematical phenomenon, but what she thought was all that mattered. She told me that she needed to sleep on it and that was all I could ask from her.
The next thing I knew, I was on a flight to meet my lucky son in Santa Fe. It was Gina’s reluctant acknowledgement of Alex’s luck that decisively convinced her. On the drive up to Pilar, we had an enjoyable discussion about school, girls, and life in general. One of the best benefits of the thrill of the chase is that it brings families together. Once we arrived, we confirmed the location where the Agua Caliente Creek worked its way into the Rio Grande Canyon at the town of Pilar. Many folks have remarked that it is an excellent brown trout fishing spot, but what I found quite interesting was the chest’s design, because Romanesque construction is known for its use of pillars. This little known fact gave credence to my newly adopted multiple meaning theory.
Next, we followed the Rio Grande Canyon down exactly ten miles until we found the confluence between the Embudo Creek and the Rio Grande. This junction would be where the “home of Brown” existed because this was the home where the miner Juan Brown lived. The La Bosa Cemetery was also just above this confluence. Forrest Fenn talked about “brown gravy” in his memoir and I took that to be a hint to “home of Brown”—a graveyard.
This fact was a nice coincidence, but on both sides of this confluence were distinct hills. Yes, these two hills were the suspicious ΩΩ. The Embudo creek ran through the middle of these twin hills and the “end is drawing nigh” suggested that we must have been close and that we must remain on the left side. So we followed the Embudo creek until it met a bridge where the “heavy loads” of vehicles were supported. Because I postulated that the correct solution must merge into one common theme to strengthen the solution, I reflected upon Forrest’s touching story of the blacksmith making horseshoes and how much iron is required to make a horseshoe. Horseshoes just happen to resemble an Ω.
If you examine the two rivers from a bird’s eye view on a topographic map, it looks exactly like an Ω or a horseshoe.
There was no way that one could “paddle up this creek” because it was an excellent area for river rafting, and thus, “no place for the meek.” Forrest used the word “creek” in the clue “no paddle up your creek” and because the Embudo Creek was the only creek that flowed into the Rio Grande south of Pilar for miles, this solution was building strength. On the other side of the bridge existed a small ford, or shallow river crossing. This was very important because Forrest constantly referred to Miss Ford and he bet his money on Diggin’ Gypsy because she “parts out” that Ford truck to fund her search, which could be linked to his memoir’s subtle hint, “any part of some is better than no part of any.”
Initially, I was skeptical of this solution because the nearest waterfall was five miles up the Embudo Creek and I was about to abandon this solution when I focused on both night being near and those unique ΩΩ hills. When we examined those two hills, they did in fact appear to be two ΩΩs, “side by each," as the Newfoundlanders would say. When we followed the creek around to the bridge, we noticed a small irrigation canal, matching the “water high” clue, following along the creek bank, which began at the bridge. “Wow,” I thought, “that certainly is inventive and inconspicuous.” It was easy to deduce why so many searchers could just walk on by this area because the remaining clues were concealed. Once we arrived at the bridge, it was not apparent what we should do next.
Now that we were at location referenced by the “heavy loads and water high” clue, I recalled the T.S. Eliot poem “Little Gidding,” where he wrote about returning to see the beginning as if for the first time. Much speculation surrounds the meaning of this circular reference and when we searched to the west around this hill, we spotted the La Bolsa Cemetery. Cemeteries and graves have received a substantial amount of attention when defining the clues, so much discussion that Forrest had to add another clue via The Today Show, just to tell everyone not to dig up graves.
What a stroke of luck it was as we gazed at the unusual rock formation behind the cemetery. On top of it were two crosses, and one of them was tilted over just like the cross in the photo where Forrest sat on the gravestone. That tilted cross resembled an “X." We contemplated: could this be the blaze? Forrest said he wasn’t going to put an “X” on the map and traditional treasure hunts do have “X”s on their maps, so why would this have been any different?
When we looked quickly down, we saw only the cemetery, but Forrest said we couldn’t dig there; thus, we continued to follow the northern twin hill around and circled back to the Rio Grande, just like the TS Eliot poem suggested. We rotated our heads like wise owls and glanced back towards the “X” from the other side of the hill. The location was so isolated, tranquil, that we felt at peace and we had the whole river to ourselves.
When we looked quickly down from the “X," or cross, on top of the unique rock formation, we located a grove of juniper trees along the river’s shoreline. Ah, the “in the wood” hint now made sense as the wood grove was shaped exactly like a “ω,” the lower case Greek letter, Ω. This spot could be Forrest’s secret fishing hole.
We anxiously hustled down the hill into complete seclusion as we wisely speculated that previous searchers were within 500 feet of the treasure while they were on the wrong side of the hill looking for the trove near the cemetery. I internally boasted to myself about how we had outsmarted those unfortunate souls that had come so close to the chest. We could almost smell the gold! It was a glorious and euphoric moment.
After two hours of turning over every rock and log, we tired of watching those insects scurrying for safety. Reality sunk in and I began to panic and questioned whether my lucky son was lucky after all. As it began to darken, we returned to the cemetery. Alex wouldn’t go in because he is like that, so I went in alone and once again plunked myself onto some guy’s gravestone where I began to ponder. How could I have gotten this wrong again? I was so confident, I couldn’t be wrong, and yet we had no treasure. Yep, someone must have gotten there before me! No, wait! That is what searchers think when they are in denial. Was I in denial? Had I once again let “gold fever” get the better of my otherwise rational thought? Then I started to honestly worry, as the horrible reality started to haunt me. I would have to eat that humble pie in front those relentless and unforgiving bloggers. I could hear them now, laughing behind those monitors. How could I ever moderate the blog with authority again after such a humiliating defeat? Surely I had learned something. I realized that I should never have used such confident language on the blog.
The crimson sky glowed dim as the sun slowly set behind the ornamental rock formation. Before I stood up, I gazed up at the wooden cross one last time and marveled at the pulchritude of this place that overshadowed my humiliation. Well, it was time to face the music...

Part II
http://www.chasechat.com/showthread.php?tid=1236

read more or purchase my book at http://www.findingfenn.com

The Wolf has strayed too far from home! Woof woof!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_FA85RO89HA
The FeΩΩatic
Reply


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