Originally published on hintofriches.com (May 1, 2021)
I first heard about Forrest Fenn’s treasure in January, 2021. By then, the treasure had already been found, the finder identified, and Forrest Fenn had passed away. Talk about being late to the party! What interested me most, however, was Forrest’s poem and how it pointed to the treasure location, which remained a mystery.
If the actual solution is ever revealed, my guess is that 90% of it will be old news for those in the search community. By that, I mean comprised of ideas that were proposed widely, but dismissed incorrectly. You’ll be “underwhelmed” is what Jack said, I believe. Here then, is my best solution, which includes everything but the blaze.
Begin it where warm waters halt
(Begin where the Firehole and Gibbon rivers end)
Waters in nature are almost always cold. This includes rain, creeks, rivers, lakes, and oceans. The only warm waters in nature are those fed by hydrothermal features such as hot springs and geysers.
The greatest concentration of hydrothermal features in the Rocky Mountains are in Yellowstone National Park. In fact, there is no greater concentration of such features anywhere in the world!
Within Yellowstone, hundreds of hot springs and geysers concentrated in the Upper, Midway, and Lower Geyser Basins drain into the Firehole River. Hundreds more in the Norris Geyser Basin drain into the Gibbon River. These two rivers are extraordinary warm waters.
Warm waters halt where the Firehole and Gibbon rivers end. The water doesn’t stop moving, or abruptly drop in temperature. The two rivers simply end where they merge together to create the Madison River. The area is commonly called Madison Junction.
And take it in the canyon down,
(And proceed down Madison Canyon,)
From Madison Junction, we can travel east, toward Gibbon Canyon, or south, toward Firehole Canyon. It’s several miles before Gibbon Canyon truly takes shape, and this is an upstream direction. Firehole Canyon takes shape much sooner, but this is also an upstream direction. Neither is ideal if we’re supposed to take the canyon down.
The other option is to travel west, through Madison Canyon. This is not only the closest canyon, but also the most prominent. From the vantage point at Madison Junction, the grandeur of Madison Canyon is immediately appreciable. Most importantly, this is the only option that provides a downstream direction of travel.
Not far, but too far to walk.
(Driving will be most practical.)
Too far to walk is a relative distance. For a young, healthy person, it might be anything greater than 10 miles. For an older person with bad knees, it might be anything over half a mile. There is no significance to these numbers; they’re simply examples.
Fortunately, we don’t need an absolute distance at this time. The author of the poem says it’s too far to walk, so we trust him, and choose a faster mode of transportation. There’s a paved road through Madison Canyon, so driving makes sense.
How far we drive will be determined by the subsequent clues. However, I don’t anticipate having to exit the park. If Yellowstone is the special place where our quest begins, it very likely plays out there in its entirety. This places some potential bounds on the final spot.
Put in below the home of Brown.
(Wade into the Madison River below an epic fishing hole.)
Imagine if “Brown” was not capitalized. In that case, “Put in below the home of brown” could mean, “Put in below the brown colored home.” Clearly, Forrest did not want to steer us that way. Brown was capitalized to preclude that interpretation.
Brown must be the name of something in nature. It could pertain to geology, hydrology, flora, or fauna. Between Madison Junction and the West Entrance to Yellowstone, there aren’t any obvious features named Brown for each of the first three categories.
However, the area is renowned as the habitat for an aptly named animal species: brown trout. The species is known simply as “brown” in the vernacular of bona-fide anglers. Forrest was an avid angler, to put it mildly, so it’s natural for him to use this casual parlance.
The home of Brown must be a storied fishing hole somewhere on this stretch of the Madison River. If we can locate it precisely with the help of subsequent clues, we’ll know where to put in, or wade into, the Madison River.
From there it’s no place for the meek,
(The rest of the journey is not for the timid,)
Wading into the Madison River is not for the meek, as the water can be fairly high. In fact, would a 79 or 80 year old man even wade in there? Isn’t it dangerous?
Well, danger is a subjective thing. For someone who’s never done it before, certainly. For an outdoorsman and angler, like the one below, not really.
The end is ever drawing nigh;
(The Madison approaches constantly on your left;)
We’re closing in on the end of the chase. After putting in, the water of the Madison River approaches constantly, on our left side. This limits the location of the final spot greatly, since this can only happen if we’ve put in before reaching Seven Mile Bridge.
After the bridge, the road runs along the south bank of the river. If we put in from the south bank, the river draws near on our right. Before the bridge, the road runs along the north bank of the river. If we put in from the north bank, the river draws nigh (on our left).
There’ll be no paddle up your creek,
(You’ll have to fully cross the Madison River,)
After putting in, we can go upstream, downstream, or across to the other bank of the river. Upstream and downstream don’t make sense. If we needed to go in one of those directions, it would have been easier to put in at a different location. Across is the wisest option.
Just heavy loads and water high.
(Where large boulders sit in the water upstream.)
Stream loads are solids that are transported downstream by flowing water. They range from tiny particles suspended in the water, to sand, gravel, or cobble that rolls along the river bed. Heavy loads are rocks or boulders that sit on the river bed.
Between Madison Junction and Seven Mile Bridge, the most substantial boulders are found clustered together near a fishing hole called Nine Mile Hole. They sit directly on the river bed, partly submerged and partly protruding out of the water high.
Nine Mile Hole (around where the boulders are clustered) is the Home of Brown, below which we wade into and cross the Madison River. But which boulders, exactly? Does below mean immediately below the boulders, or some distance below them?
I’m not sure, so it’s wise to cross the river immediately downstream of the boulders. If we find the next clue on the opposite bank, we’ll know that we crossed at the precise location. If we don’t find it, we can walk down the bank one small section at a time until we do.
If you’ve been wise and found the blaze,
(If you crossed at the correct spot and found the blaze,)
A blaze is anything that stands out visually from its surroundings. The south bank of the Madison River at Nine Mile Hole is covered in lodgepole pines, some more mature than others. Those that are living reach up toward the sky, while the dead lay fallen on the ground beneath. It’s the cycle of life; the old make way for the new. But, I digress.
What stands out visually in this environment? It’s difficult for me to say, having never been there. I suspect if we put in to the Madison River at a precise location below Nine Mile Hole, then we can walk straight across to the blaze.
Look quickly down, your quest to cease,
(Look down from the blaze to spot the treasure,)
No subterfuge. Just cross the Madison River at precisely the correct location.
You had it all along.
