The Thrill Of the Chase

January 14, 2021

When I first heard of Forrest Fenn’s poem and his hidden treasure, my thoughts took me back fifty years. My mom through her work became acquainted with a new employee whom her and her family were treasure hunters. Hunting treasure when they had money, working when they didn't have money. They travelled across America living a vagabond life driving a Dodge van pulling a pickup bed trailer with a shell topper behind the van.

The lady whose name I seem to remember was Shirley explained to mom that with her tips working as a waitress and a couple of weeks on the payroll they would be heading to Texas looking for Spanish gold, but at the moment they didn't have the money to rent a camping site and did mom know of someone who would let them camp on their property until they could head to Texas. Since we lived in the country and had plenty of room, mom said they could camp on our place for a couple of weeks.

Back behind our house was a grove of Locust trees which offered shade from the summer sun making it a good camping site. I watched with curiosity as they unloaded their van and camper, cleaning an open area of sticks and vines and digging a fire pit. With all of this completed they finally pitched a tent large enough for the family to sleep in.

For the next two weeks mom and I would go out to the campsite each evening and listen to the Tall tales and adventures this family had experienced over the years. They told of visiting local libraries and historical societies to research records of any robberies or stories of hidden gold. In some locations they met up with like minded people and they would hunt together. Small tokens are the odd coin was all they ever admitted to finding, but their passion and joy of the hunt was infectious to a fifteen year old boy. Then on the night before they were to leave mom told her story of possible hidden loot or gold and strange markings and emblems she had seen on one of the farms she had lived on as a child.

Now fifty years to the present and having followed this treasure hunt off and on for close to ten years it has been confirmed by Mr. Fenn that his treasure has been found and the man who found the treasure does not want his name released.

Again my memory of those two weeks sitting around the campfire in the Locust grove comes back to me and the fire of my imagination is fueled with thoughts of that treasure hunting family could it have been the boy now a man or perhaps a grandson or great grandson who figured out Mr. Fenn's poem and found the treasure! My imagination says yes! And the father and mother who are still around, maybe camped out in grove of trees with the family sitting around the fire ring celebrating the hunt.

Thanks for the Treasure.