“Treasure Hunters”

 

According to Forrest Fenn, this poem provides the nine clues you need to unearth millions in treasure. It’s from his self-published memoir, “The Thrill of the Chase.”

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 drawing ever 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 answers 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.

Clue #2: The treasure is hidden 5000′ above sea level in New Mexico.

Clue #3: The treasure is NOT hidden in a graveyard.

 

A Paragraph from Newsweek’s article:

“For six months they prepared, meeting for treasure sessions at Pizza Ranch. Then they packed up Claude’s GMC -Yukon, taking beef jerky, bullets, men’s magazines, a first-aid kit, and everything four 40-year-old men could need for five days in the woods. Their interpretation of the poem led to a 13-mile stretch in and around New Mexico’s Cimarron Canyon and Eagle Nest Lake state parks and the Carson National Forest—where they found only a rolled ankle, a run-in with a “bear” that turned out to be a kid fishing, and a bitter moment when a motorcade of fancy cars drove by: they imagined Fenn inside one of them, laughing like a cartoon villain.

When Merrill got my email asking to meet, the guys were drinking in a hotel bar. I convinced them to stay one more day, promising to share my own interpretation of the poem. By now I was caught up in the hunt, sure my original reporting would help, and happy to split treasure for the sheer story alone. But they wanted to return to Cimarron. We walked around in the woods, holding crumpled copies of Fenn’s poem and regarding the underbrush until a ranger told us we needed a permit to hike.”

For six months they prepared, meeting for treasure sessions at Pizza Ranch – See more at: http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2012/08/19/forrest-fenn-wants-you-to-find-his-treasure-and-his-bones.html#sthash.7twr19E3.dpuf

For six months they prepared, meeting for treasure sessions at Pizza Ranch. Then they packed up Claude’s GMC -Yukon, taking beef jerky, bullets, men’s magazines, a first-aid kit, and everything four 40-year-old men could need for five days in the woods. Their interpretation of the poem led to a 13-mile stretch in and around New Mexico’s Cimarron Canyon and Eagle Nest Lake state parks and the Carson National Forest—where they found only a rolled ankle, a run-in with a “bear” that turned out to be a kid fishing, and a bitter moment when a motorcade of fancy cars drove by: they imagined Fenn inside one of them, laughing like a cartoon villain.

When Merrill got my email asking to meet, the guys were drinking in a hotel bar. I convinced them to stay one more day, promising to share my own interpretation of the poem. By now I was caught up in the hunt, sure my original reporting would help, and happy to split treasure for the sheer story alone. But they wanted to return to Cimarron. We walked around in the woods, holding crumpled copies of Fenn’s poem and regarding the underbrush until a ranger told us we needed a permit to hike.

– See more at: http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2012/08/19/forrest-fenn-wants-you-to-find-his-treasure-and-his-bones.html#sthash.7twr19E3.dpuf

For six months they prepared, meeting for treasure sessions at Pizza Ranch. Then they packed up Claude’s GMC -Yukon, taking beef jerky, bullets, men’s magazines, a first-aid kit, and everything four 40-year-old men could need for five days in the woods. Their interpretation of the poem led to a 13-mile stretch in and around New Mexico’s Cimarron Canyon and Eagle Nest Lake state parks and the Carson National Forest—where they found only a rolled ankle, a run-in with a “bear” that turned out to be a kid fishing, and a bitter moment when a motorcade of fancy cars drove by: they imagined Fenn inside one of them, laughing like a cartoon villain.

When Merrill got my email asking to meet, the guys were drinking in a hotel bar. I convinced them to stay one more day, promising to share my own interpretation of the poem. By now I was caught up in the hunt, sure my original reporting would help, and happy to split treasure for the sheer story alone. But they wanted to return to Cimarron. We walked around in the woods, holding crumpled copies of Fenn’s poem and regarding the underbrush until a ranger told us we needed a permit to hike.

– See more at: http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2012/08/19/forrest-fenn-wants-you-to-find-his-treasure-and-his-bones.html#sthash.7twr19E3.dpuf

For six months they prepared, meeting for treasure sessions at Pizza Ranch. Then they packed up Claude’s GMC -Yukon, taking beef jerky, bullets, men’s magazines, a first-aid kit, and everything four 40-year-old men could need for five days in the woods. Their interpretation of the poem led to a 13-mile stretch in and around New Mexico’s Cimarron Canyon and Eagle Nest Lake state parks and the Carson National Forest—where they found only a rolled ankle, a run-in with a “bear” that turned out to be a kid fishing, and a bitter moment when a motorcade of fancy cars drove by: they imagined Fenn inside one of them, laughing like a cartoon villain.

When Merrill got my email asking to meet, the guys were drinking in a hotel bar. I convinced them to stay one more day, promising to share my own interpretation of the poem. By now I was caught up in the hunt, sure my original reporting would help, and happy to split treasure for the sheer story alone. But they wanted to return to Cimarron. We walked around in the woods, holding crumpled copies of Fenn’s poem and regarding the underbrush until a ranger told us we needed a permit to hike.

– See more at: http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2012/08/19/forrest-fenn-wants-you-to-find-his-treasure-and-his-bones.html#sthash.7twr19E3.dpuf

For six months they prepared, meeting for treasure sessions at Pizza Ranch. Then they packed up Claude’s GMC -Yukon, taking beef jerky, bullets, men’s magazines, a first-aid kit, and everything four 40-year-old men could need for five days in the woods. Their interpretation of the poem led to a 13-mile stretch in and around New Mexico’s Cimarron Canyon and Eagle Nest Lake state parks and the Carson National Forest—where they found only a rolled ankle, a run-in with a “bear” that turned out to be a kid fishing, and a bitter moment when a motorcade of fancy cars drove by: they imagined Fenn inside one of them, laughing like a cartoon villain.

When Merrill got my email asking to meet, the guys were drinking in a hotel bar. I convinced them to stay one more day, promising to share my own interpretation of the poem. By now I was caught up in the hunt, sure my original reporting would help, and happy to split treasure for the sheer story alone. But they wanted to return to Cimarron. We walked around in the woods, holding crumpled copies of Fenn’s poem and regarding the underbrush until a ranger told us we needed a permit to hike.

– See more at: http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2012/08/19/forrest-fenn-wants-you-to-find-his-treasure-and-his-bones.html#sthash.7twr19E3.dpuf