As I Have Gone Alone In There: THE RELUCTANT MAVERICK

By Glen Coughlan

This eBook will walk you through Glen Coughlan’s account of how he compelled a rattled Forrest Fenn to throw his solution to ‘The Thrill of the Chase’, into his juniper fire and then in a panic bring this treasure hunt to a hurried conclusion in 2020. Forrest Fenn prophesized a ‘Maverick’ rising to decipher his cryptic poem from his memoir to recover a treasure said to contain several million dollars in gold, gems and antiquities allegedly secreted in the US Rocky Mountains north of Santa Fe New Mexico. This Maverick would rise from the opposite side of the world in the year 2018 and venture forth on this quest from a sleepy little town in Tasmania Australia. Glen Coughlan would take up the challenge of Forrest Fenn’s treasure poem and unravel each of the nine clues weaved throughout Fenn’s memoir. Glen would not only solve Fenn’s poem, but astoundingly visually locate the treasure chest itself below Blaze Mountain in Montana with updated HD Google Earth surveillance of 2014, unmasking a crime of the century. Glen would then embark upon a selfless crusade to end Forrest Fenn’s deadly treasure hunt, that would finally account for seven searchers dead. This is a unique remarkable true to life account of one man’s quest to claim the Grail of the 21st century and then expose duplicity, vanquishing the treasure hunt and its creator for reasons of unacceptable carnage arising out of an unforgivable conspiracy. What Glen uncovers and reveals in his solution clearly rattled Forrest Fenn and will leave you questioning everything you ever thought you knew about Forrest Fenn and his Treasure hunt. This evidentiary brief verifies and references the only supported solution, ending all speculation Forrest Fenn’s treasure was found legitimately during a worldwide pandemic. Glen’s evidence is confronting, and Glen offers up a $250,000 PUBLIC REWARD in his book for the original higher definition aircraft imaging that captured the treasure chest for the first time ever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9781471688751

Book preview

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COPYRIGHT

Aside from comparison illustrations and images this written work, the story and my solution of Blaze Mountain Lee Metcalf Montana are my own intellectual property and no one else’s. No one has any claim to either the written story or the solution. A solution I revealed to Forrest Fenn in June of 2018. I give no authority for the use of anything written in this work, my story or my solution whatsoever or howsoever unless under a negotiated written authority for use negotiated with me related to this work, my solution or pertaining to my name that is clearly described within this work.

Copyright © 2021 by Glen Coughlan

[e-mail]

United States Copyright Office 09/10/2021 Registration TXu 2-279-241

https://www.copyright.gov

All rights reserved.

The legal rights of the author have been asserted and registered.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form on or by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review or a producer reviewing this literary work.

Publisher – Lulu Publishing

https://www.lulu.com

Book Design by – Glen Coughlan

Cover Design by – Glen Coughlan

E-Book ISBN - 978-1-4716-8875-1

Softcover ISBN - 978-1-4716-8879-9

Hardcover ISBN - 978-1-4716-8878-2

Hardcover Gloss ISBN - 978-1-4717-6463-9

First E-Book Edition Published: - 2021

First Softcover Edition Published: - 2021

First Hardcover Edition Published: - 2021

Economy Softcover ISBN - 978-1-4717-8557-3

First Economy Softcover Edition Published: - 2021

This work is a 100% not for profit publication, Fenn’s treasure hunt was financed on blood money, funds raised for this work go to those in need.

MY LEGACY

2 Timothy 4:7

Dear Lord

Thank you for giving me strength and conviction to complete the task you entrusted to me.

Thank you for guiding me straight and true through the many obstacles in my path.

And for keeping me resolute when all around seemed lost.

Thank you for your protection and for your many signs along the way.

Thank you for the good that I may have done.

I am so sorry about the bad.

Thank you for the friend I made.

Please watch over Mark as you watched over me.

Thank you for finally allowing me to rest.

I am so very tired.

But I go now to my rest at peace

knowing that I have done right with my time on this earth.

I fought the good fight.

I finished the race.

I kept the faith.

DISCLAIMER

This book is a memoir. It reflects the author’s present recollections of experiences over time. Some names and characteristics have been changed, some events have been compressed, and some dialogue has been recreated.

This literary work represents actual events in the life of the author as truthfully as recollection permits and / or can be verified by research. The events and the conversations in this book have been set down to the best of the author’s ability. Occasionally, dialogue consistent with the character or nature of the person speaking has been supplemented. All persons within are actual individuals; there are no composite characters.

I changed the names of some nice people to maintain their privacy. I changed the names of some bad people, as I don’t want to embarrass them or their descendants. The names of some very bad people have not been changed and I’m not afraid to Speak ill of the dead, especially if they robbed me or brought death and swindled innocent people for reasons of greed.

Chapter 32 reveals the details of an understanding struck between Forrest Fenn and myself during the course of a conversation that took place after Fenn’s two I’m sorry Glen e-mails. Part of the conversation related to my request in borrowing from his work for exhibits in my own future memoir.

Why would Forrest Fenn reach out to me? – Only Forrest Fenn knew why he decided to take these actions just before his death – guilt, I guess.

Anyone else receive two I’m Sorry e-mails from Forrest Fenn?

For the record, I received two e-mails and one phone call from Forrest Fenn in 2020, nothing prior, just six weeks before his death.

Whatever anyone’s opinion, Fenn encouraged me to write my own memoir.

DEDICATIONS

To my beautiful wife, Stefany on our 10th wedding anniversary

Although I promised you the chest for our 8th bronze anniversary

This true to life memoir of my quest is for you to treasure.

Married Leura, Blue Mountains 7 September 2011

OUR CHILDREN

Damian

Benjamin

Shakira

My friend and mentor Gareth, for inspiring and pushing me beyond my potential

AND ALWAYS IN MEMORY

INNOCENT SOULS THAT PERISHED IN THE QUEST

RANDALL (RANDY) BRUCE BILYEU

JEFFERY ALAN SCHULTZ

MIKE PETERSEN

JEFF MURPHY

PARIS WALLACE

ERIC ASHBY

MICHAEL WAYNE SEXSON

Contents

MY LEGACY

DISCLAIMER

DEDICATIONS

AND ALWAYS IN MEMORY

FOREWORD

PREFACE

OVERTURE

PROLOGUE TO A CIPHER

FORREST FENN TTOTC TREASURE POEM

THE TREASURE POEMS SOLUTION

PUBLIC OFFER OF A $250,000 CASH REWARD

THE FORREST FENN TREASURE CHEST EXPOSED

Chapter 1: I BEGIN IT NEAR THE END OF MY STORY

Chapter 2: THE INNOCENT LOST TO THIS QUEST

Chapter 3: AS I HAVE GONE ALONE IN THERE – Part 1

Chapter 4: FIRST TRIP TO BOZEMAN

Chapter 5: A DRUNK IN BOZEMAN

Chapter 6: A SIMPLE PLAN

Chapter 7: TOO FAR TO WALK

Chapter 8: OUR FIRST ASSAULT ON BLAZE

Chapter 9: WATER HIGH WAS HIGH LAKES

Chapter 10: OUR SECOND ASSAULT ON BLAZE

Chapter 11: OVER A DEADLY SNOW BRIDGE

Chapter 12: A PSYCHOTIC BUSHWACKER

Chapter 13: SOME GRIEF FROM MY WIFE

Chapter 14: WIFE’S SORRY & MY LUGGAGE ARRIVES

Chapter 15: BLAZE VIA SOLITUDE TRAIL

Chapter 16: OUR THIRD ASSAULT ON BLAZE

Chapter 17: MY INTRODUCTION TO TTOTC

Chapter 18: THE TWO BOOKS ARRIVE

Chapter 19: WHAT AN APRIL FOOL I WAS

Chapter 20: DARREN & DOC IN ST ELMO

Chapter 21: RULES ARE THERE TO BE BROKEN

Chapter 22: A WHITE KNIGHT APPEARS

Chapter 23: AN ILLEGAL FLIGHT INTO BLAZE

Chapter 24: FINALLY ON FENN’S ISLAND

Chapter 25: THAT’S WHEN I COMPLETELY LOST IT

Chapter 26: BETRAYALS CALL FOR NEW ALLIANCES

Chapter 27: I SET SOME TRAPS TO CATCH SOME RATS

Chapter 28: AS I HAVE GONE ALONE IN THERE – Part 2

AFTERWORD

Chapter 29: SOLVING THE THRILL OF THE CHASE

Chapter 30: SO YOU ‘THINK’ YOU KNEW FENN

Chapter 31: MY EXPOSÉ TO SHUT FENN DOWN

Chapter 32: FENN SAYS I’M SORRY GLEN THEN DIES

Chapter 33: WHY FENN ENDED IT THIS WAY

Chapter 34: FENN’S PATSY APPEARS

Chapter 35: FENN’S PATSY HAS NO SOLUTION

Chapter 36: THE CRAZY FORREST FENN CULTS

Chapter 37: THE RATS BEGIN TO EAT EACH OTHER

CONCLUSION

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

BIBLIOGRAPHY

BLURB

FOREWORD

Quests are a fundamental part of human history, culture and myth. Theseus hunted the Minotaur through the labyrinth on the island of Crete. Sir Lancelot went in search of Guinevere and crossed the dangerous sword bridge to reach her. And Don Quixote tilted at windmills on the vast plain of La Mancha. Our thirst for quests remains inexhaustible, as The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings remind us in Twentieth Century literature, and Star Wars and Monty Python and the Holy Grail tell us in Twentieth Century movies. And in the Twenty First Century our fascination with quests, our desire to go on a quest or to act out a quest, is shown by the Theseus and the Minotaur video game.

Perhaps the most extraordinary quest to have been invented in this present century has been the Fenn Treasure Hunt, launched by a former US Air Force pilot and art dealer called Forrest Fenn who, in his 2010 self-published book The Thrill of the Chase, set out the clues to find a treasure chest allegedly containing millions of dollars in gold and jewels and precious artefacts. Over ten years Fenn watched as thousands combed remote mountain wildernesses in the Rockies seeking his Fenn Treasure. Seven people died in the course of their quest to find the Fenn Treasure. Fenn died in 2020, having called off the quest after repeated requests from public authorities to bring the carnage to an end.

At no point during the search for the Fenn Treasure did I ever hear of it, let alone have any interest in its outcome. Yet unbeknown to me I had, 35 years ago, met a young man who was to be the most determined Grail Knight in the pursuit of the Fenn Treasure, Glen Coughlan, the author of this work.

I first encountered Glen when he was about 20 years old, in the singularly inauspicious surroundings of the makeshift offices in the down at heel Central Station area occupied by the Freight arm of the NSW Railways. I was a young lawyer seeking to transition into senior management and public policy, somewhat improbably overseeing a mixed bag of sometimes industrious and often hard-drinking men (with a few women) who helped keep the enormous coal, wheat and small freight business of the NSW Railways on track and on time. Amongst this noisy crew was a young lad with a sleepy country drawl, which masked a quick wit and acute intelligence, Glen Coughlan.

Over several years of our sharing those dingy premises I got to know Glen quite well and realized he was a person of rich potential. My role in his life was simply to point him in the direction of the great wide world and say Go for it - you can achieve great things if you set your mind to it. At that stage Glen had never seen the sea, though he grew up in the great harbor city. Foxhunting in the Snowy Mountain country of his grandparents around Bombala was then his greatest fascination.

It was great training for the quest revealed in this book, in which he used Twenty First Century technology and good old-fashioned Australian bushmen’s survival skills to crack the Fenn code and live to tell the tale. Nothing I ever knew in Glen 35 years ago would quite prepare me for what this tale reveals, of a battler determined to beat the odds in dangerous but often hilarious circumstances. It is a tale as old as ancient myths of quests, but with a very definitely Twenty First Century twist.

Dr Gareth Grainger

PREFACE

Why The Reluctant Maverick? Well quite simply, after enduring all of what I am about to reveal, it was with the greatest reluctance, that I was compelled to painfully toil to document the truth in exposing what will always remain nothing other than an awful underhanded conspiracy nourished by greed and ego. If the truth be told, despite whatever anyone claims, I must confess to you that I am a nobody. I am a person of no consequence at all. However my guess is that you want to know how I solved this treasure hunt, located the treasure site, when all of this treasure hunting fascination started with me and how Forrest Fenn the deceptive fisher of men hooked me with a golden lure into his reckless treasure hunt he coined ‘The Thrill of the Chase’ abbreviated herein at times to TTOTC. Indeed, these are perfectly understandable questions to ask of me, and indeed I should like to reveal it all to you. And so through the chapters I will reflect upon it in great detail. The early years of my retirement changed greatly about three months into 2018. I will thoroughly disclose all of those events to you in chapter 17. Be assured, I will explain everything in great detail as I take you on a non-linear disjointed journey where the events of my quest are portrayed out of chronological order. I chose to do this to heighten the anticipation of what transpired.

What I hope to thrill you with and help you to understand as you read on, is that between these covers you will learn beyond any doubt the true location of where Forrest Fenn secreted his treasure chest based on evidence, experience with me my own near-death experiences, my meeting and parting with an acquaintance that reveals himself as a bushwacker, new found friendships with wonderful Montanan’s, the majesty of the Rocky Mountains and its wildlife. Then ultimately my advocacy to alert people to a crime. I would speak out for the seven innocent souls that lost their lives to this recklessly conceived treasure hunt.

What follows are merely a few of the experiences that I hope to retell in a manner you may feel you are beside me facing my adversities in the creeks and the mountains hindered by a greedy bushwacker. I will delve into reflections of my personal nightmares in my quest to solve a simple poem, conquer nature and afterwards upon learning the truth, confront Fenn with my evidence then embark upon a crusade to pressure Forrest Fenn into vanquishing his treasure hunt. An enterprise that should never have been conceived at all. Unashamedly I will explain how I was responsible for Forrest Fenn ultimately ending the TTOTC, shutting it down due to horrific carnage and legal consequences. In the end no one could reasonably blame me for pressuring Forrest Fenn into doing what had to be done. On the contrary, Forrest Fenn would even finally apologize to me, twice in two separate emails and then in a phone call speaking with me literally on his deathbed 6 weeks before his death, screenshots of Fenn’s e-mails are included within chapter 30 for examination.

This written work represents my truthful recall of the events. There is no fiction to be found here between these covers. On my journey I will take you into rugged Montanan wilderness across raging deadly white-water creeks and up to a deadly mountain named Blaze (yes, Blaze). Through record breaking deep unseasonable summer snow in pursuit of a treasure chest that should have been waiting where it was placed in 2009 rather than illegally retrieved under Fenn's direction in 2015 without any public disclosures. This is a tragic story of one insignificant ordinary mans quest to recover a promised chest full of gold. This incontestable verifiable brief of evidence will expose how Forrest Fenn seemingly without empathy, guilt or remorse double-crossed both myself and the entire search community out of the opportunity for a promised reward. Arranging the canceling of TTOTC in an implausible conspiracy conclusion under the cloak of a worldwide pandemic while the country was in lock-down. Like this story the writer is a tragedy in himself. He is not an educated writer with an English degree, a man who markets himself as the perfect father, has the perfect wife, is surrounded by perfect kids or dedicates his book to believing or interested parents. The ugly truth of the matter is that the reluctant writer is a knockabout high school drop out, the product of a dysfunctional family that has no business publishing a book on his own let alone writing it in the first place. The toil in writing this book was equally as challenging as solving The Thrill of the Chase and the assaults on the mountain itself. Notwithstanding, this immense task had to be undertaken so that the truth could forever linger as a reference on bookshelves, rather than electronically where it might eventually be erased or evaporate into the digital ether in the space of a few short years. My memoir would be lost like my own ashes when they are eventually scattered up their below Blaze Mountain according to my final wishes. This incredible memoir of events had to be recorded to document the swindle over the only true verifiable solution that was thrown into Forrest Fenn's juniper fire by his very hand once I revealed it all to him and the world during the June of 2018.

Reluctantly this remains a tragic horrific story of the 7 lives lost to the greed and the ego, of Forrest Fenn.

OVERTURE

A QUEST TO CLAIM WHAT WAS MINE

What unfolds in the chapters ahead is my quest to solve Forrest Fenn’s treasure hunt. From a simple cryptic poem, a poem Forrest Fenn stated was so simple a child could understand it. This poem was printed beside a map and the poem was said to contain nine clues that Fenn weaved throughout a memoir entitled, ‘The Thrill of the Chase’ (TTOTC). This book contained numerous hints to the clues in Fenn’s treasure poem as did Fenn’s second book, ‘too far to walk’ (TFTW). Forrest Fenn if you did not already know, was a ruthless shrewd antiquities dealer that ran an art gallery in Santa Fe New Mexico with his wife, Peggy. For the purposes of this account and the solution to TTOTC, Forrest Fenn in his youth spent his adolescent years in West Yellowstone Montana, engaged in the pursuit of trout fishing for pleasure and profit. Fenn also spent summers with acquaintances Al Jones and Don Petersen in the Montanan Forests near Beaver Creek around Hebgen Lake and elsewhere specifically in Gallatin Forest. There they processed pine lodge poles as building material for log cabin manufacture in the West Yellowstone locality.

My true to life account of the events should be read in reference to Forrest Fenn’s books. All of the pages and chapters are referenced herein for convenience with a referenced bibliography index with respective Internet links. It is my hope that with an open mind in diligently referencing and researching what is about to be presented, you will comprehend wholly the solution to where Forrest Fenn’s treasure was truly placed on the day of Friday 5 June 2009, retrieved a few years later during 2015 before being announced as found yet again on the same day and date of Friday 5 June 2020. Dear reader, I assure you that those two specific identical dates are not purely coincidental in nature, their relevance and references as hints within TTOTC were very deliberate, arrogant and will be explained clearly in the chapters ahead. Further I will provide referenced independent evidence not emotional or harebrained theories. With this evidence you can begin to make sense of the crime of the century committed against seven innocent searchers that never harmed anyone. You will realize how at certain times in the year areas of the Rocky Mountains can present as conservative trails and at other times as deadly trails purely dependent on the season, weather and wildlife. The solution that follows would have been Forrest Fenn’s true solution to TTOTC had Fenn not arranged a rushed panic conspiracy ending with the nonsense throwaway State of Wyoming. A State where there can never be a book written documenting any credible solution. What follows was my quest into wilderness to snatch a promised bronze chest full of gold, gems and antiquities from the avaricious hand of a softly spoken, self indulgent, geriatric egomaniac with highly questionable psychology. What I ultimately discovered should alarm and anger people into asking many questions until the truth surfaces.

Notwithstanding out of all of this, wherever the treasure and the chest reside or what entity may wish to display it, my family and I claim it as our rightful property and we will pursue any entity for damages that withholds this stolen property. I fairly won this property in the June of 2018. My story explains and justifies how I solved TTOTC and rightfully claim ownership of Fenn’s prize.

It is my desire to recover the chest as a trophy and accolade for my own legacy and donate ALL of the treasure to the families who lost loved ones in this crime.

PROLOGUE TO A CIPHER

FENN’S CIPHER OF THE NUMBER SEVEN AND SEVERAL

A CHEST LEFT 7 MILES DEEP IN MONTANAN WILDERNESS

LEFT NEAR THE END OF A TRAIL OVER 7 WATERWAY CROSSINGS

REVEALED IN CHAPTER 7 TFTW ON A CAR LICENCE PLATE

THE INVERTED PLATE REVEALING A 7 AS THE LETTER L

THE PLATE REVEALING THE LOCATION CLEARLY AS ‘L METCALF’

LINE 7 IN THE POEM REVEALS IT IS, ‘TOO FAR TO WALK’

TWO SEPARATE PICTORIAL HINTS OF 7 FISH IN TFTW

7 FISH LEAPING FROM THE WATER - PAGE 8

7 FISH BAGGED FALLING TO THE DECEIT OF A LURE - PAGE 9

7 INNOCENT SEARCHERS PERISHED BEFORE IT WAS ENDED

TO A DEADLY GOLDEN LURE DESIGNED TO CATCH MEN

SEVEN

7

SEVERAL

Forrest Fenn the fisher of men, this egomaniac’s most crucial volunteered hint was, What does the word ‘Several’ mean.

Moby Dickens Bookstore Taos NM interview @ 48:05 minutes (7)

FORREST FENN TTOTC TREASURE POEM

As I have gone alone in there

And with my treasures bold,

I can keep my secret where,

And hint or 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 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.

THE TREASURE POEMS SOLUTION

-THE FIRST STANZA-

FORREST FENN’S ‘OVERTURE’

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOMETHING

MORE SUBSTANTIAL TO FOLLOW

Forrest Fenn’s private and secret explanation of how Fenn

conveyed the treasure chest into Lee Metcalf by horse via

‘Solitude’ Lake and ‘Hermit Lake’ trail - Alone!

Forrest Fenn revealed he was a horseman.

-REMAINING FIVE STANZA’S-

SEARCHERS POEM OF 9 CLUES

Bozeman Hot Springs on ‘Rainbow’ Rd Bozeman.

Gallatin Canyon South into Spanish Creek Canyon.

Over 25 miles too far to walk this distance.

Spanish Creek Log Cabin.

Do not follow Little Hell Roaring Creek, Mathew 5:5.

Horseman’s term to keep to the left, & the end is near.

Follow the remaining Spanish South Fork Trail.

Precambrian granite loads & High Lakes trail marker.

Blaze Mountain – Google Terrain Maps hint of 10,200 ft.

Walk down quickly from the trail 500 ft to the island.

A warning not to stay long looking at a wondrous thing.

Permission to take the chest and be on your way.

This is Fenn’s old suicide stanza left over when Fenn had

Planned to die with the chest and explain why he had

left the treasure chest and what had made him do this.

This stanza contains NO clues and is of no relevance.

Forrest Fenn makes a public declaration and decree.

Walking through water & through snow will be worth it.

Walking through water & the small wood to the island.

Assigning ownership to the finder of the chest & gold.

PUBLIC OFFER OF A $250,000 CASH REWARD

You the reader could earn your own fortune by uncovering the original historic imaging I am seeking and offering a substantial reward for. I have publicly issued an indefinite cash reward for the recovery of the original high-definition imaging which captured the 10 inch x 10 inch bronze Forrest Fenn treasure chest. This historic imaging I am seeking was used by Google in its Earth Pro application for the year 2014 only. The degraded imaging remains to this day on Google Earth Pro to view.

Google degraded this imaging down to 10 – 20cm resolution per pixel for equitable use in its Earth app due to file size constraints. The original imaging in consideration of aerial surveys is believed to be as high as 1 – 3cm per pixel in resolution. Much higher in detail. This original 1 – 3cm imaging would thus identify very clearly the detail on the lid of the bronze Forrest Fenn treasure chest resting at the location of interest. This imaging captured at low altitude was NOT satellite imaging, this imaging was captured by a contracted aircraft flying at low altitude over the area of interest, possibly conducting a forestry survey for timber damage from mountain pine beetle.

It is believed from inquiries to date that the Department of Conservation and Resources of Montana or an associated entity would be the likely agency that contracted this aerial survey. The aerial survey is believed to have been contracted between 2013 and 2014.

The GPS location of interest is 45 22’36.08 N 111 25’31.89 W on a small island surrounded by Spanish Creek below Blaze Mountain within Lee Metcalf Wilderness Area Gallatin Forest Montana. The treasure chest rested there between 2009 & 2015 at 8,127ft. Google used this imaging from this aerial survey below 2,600ft, at close to ground level rather than from usual satellite resources that was then used commencing above 2,600ft.

I regrettably have exhausted my inquiries to locate this imaging as I am hindered in not being a US citizen with influence or an ability to easily travel to US Government agencies to make personal representations. The ideal method to uncover this imaging might be to have the ability to contact Google, or have contacts that work within Google that can identify the source of where this imaging originally came from. Alternately contacting the Department of Conservation and Resources of Montana might also prove successful.

Additionally, An innovative aerial survey method called the Landscape Assessment System (LAS) was used to assess mountain pine beetle (Dendroctonus ponderosae) which caused mortality of whitebark pine (Pinus albicaulis) across the species distribution in the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem. Contact can be made with Ecological Applications of the Ecological Society of America for imaging they may possess.

I wish you very great success with your own treasure hunt, I am very keen to reward the successful person with this prize of $250,000 or in any payment equivalent.

CHAPTER 1

I BEGIN IT NEAR THE END OF MY STORY

The sunlight is dazzling me streaming down through the treetops. I’m coming around now beginning to see colors again. My ears are ringing. This resonance would become a permanent tone three years from now, whether a complication due to this fall or a series of three minor strokes I will never know. My face feels clammy as I try to sit up with thoughts of that grizzly bear lingering. I look around as best I can from my stony bed expecting her to abruptly appear. Just like in the movies rushing in finding me at a momentary disadvantage. At the moment I’m like an upturned tortoise, defenseless without a clue where my bear spray is. An imposing 9 Oz can of pepper against wild ferocious 800-pound threats. Fine mist has been settling while I was out. You just know it’s been trying its utmost to break the rules of forecasters. Here the mountains defy meteorologists with their predictions of what the mountains will observe in terms of weather for the day.

At elevation the mountain environment manufactures its own weather. They can get away with defying human guesswork. No one would surely notice the mountains transgressions deep in wilderness where I was. What are the human fleas going to do about it anyway? Perhaps my fall was in the natural order of things, nature’s way of taking care of the only witness to the mountains weather plan for today. How would the mountain deal with me? How long was I out for? Checking my watch, it is getting close to 8:30am now; so, it can’t have been any more than a few minutes, it was just a nap, no not even a nap a timeout really perchance to remind me of the perilous place I had returned to, but this time, alone.

I don’t recall how or when I fell, I lost time there, someone, paused and erased that bit, like the time as a teenager trail bike riding with friends in the logging forests back home in Lithgow. I came off my bike and ended out cold up against a huge fallen eucalyptus. Oh yeah! It’s coming back to me now. Somehow, I slipped from the snowbank I attempted to shin up. I see what happened now it is right here in front of me. The obvious scuff marks down the snowbank left from my cheap snowshoes. They lost what deceitful hold they had on the snow, that’s what they did. I just knew these things were not going to be the best choice for out here when I looked them over, especially for the task at hand. They had no crampons of any description. For those that are not familiar with snowshoes, crampons are deep spikes or plates that look like nasty sharp metal claws or teeth that penetrate deep giving a firm purchase on ice and snow. This model of snowshoe had only slightly raised nodules that offered very little in the way of any grip, merely a little traction on flat ground. You see they, the hire company, dragged these snowshoes out of warehouse storage for me and I really didn’t have a second choice of anything else or for that matter, from anywhere else. I learned this a few weeks ago while trying to hire snowshoes with the two Darren’s. You will meet the two Darren’s a little further into my story. You see if you did not know it already, once winter is over most ski and snowshoe equipment is stored offsite during the spring and summer months to make room for the approaching season’s stock. That’s the communal process in Bozeman anyway for what that snippet of information is worth. I hired these snowshoes a week ahead of time from a sports store on Main Rd, don’t get me wrong the people at the store and the store itself were great but my specification and understanding of snowshoes was clearly deficient. I guess the model I hired were more for cross-country walking rather than breaking trail and scaling inclines where a tendency could be to slip and fall requiring deep grip into steep frozen ground.

These snowshoes were hired for ten bucks a day, but even being that cheap they were not worth it. I could have been killed in such a fall just as Randall Bruce Bilyeu was. Randall or Randy as he was known, was the very first fatality of this reckless treasure hunt. Randy was cut down in his prime at just 54 years of age. Randy had one year on me when he slipped and fell heavily sustaining a very significant head injury of his own, eventually succumbing to exposure on the shores of the Rio Grande in New Mexico during July 2016, my thoughts and sadness are expressed to both Kathy and Linda in Randy’s passing. You see how easy it can happen, life can pass in the twinkling of an eye, one minute you are running along, the next you are no more. I am a jack-of-all-trades and a master of none, in hindsight I should have researched snowshoes more thoroughly, their applications and ensured I chose the right equipment for my assignment. See how easily you can come undone despite your best intentions. I had hired a pair of snowshoes; ok tick that one off the list, next item on the list. No! It’s not that simple fella you have to make sure your equipment is fit for purpose rather than work against you and end up being the instrument in your downfall. Death calls on you in this way. In examining my surroundings, a brief inquiry into my negligence, there is no such thing as an accident. The word accident accounts for negligence for those that cannot accept fault when it arises looking for something or someone else to blame. I accept the fact I over balanced from the weight of my pack; my center of gravity was all wrong leaning in on the snowbank, trying to get up over that four-foot wall of snow.

7th Water Crossing (hint)

I had just fitted these snowshoes for the first time since coming across the last water, fording the seventh crossing a mile and a half behind me, this was the crossing represented by the last little girl with rocky pebbly patterns altered upon her dress representing the creek bed.

The 7th crossing over Spanish Lakes Creek as I found it the second time round.

I had walked through Spanish Lakes Creek with an old pair of fishing waders. No wet socks for me this time. I planned and provided well for that contingency at least. I remember well the hint of the six kittens and the wet socks, a dual reference perhaps to the six dry crossings and the wet water, ‘Your effort will be worth the cold’. That hint on page 29 of TTOTC of the wet socks may have been related to both water crossings as related visually to the ritual of skiers here below Blaze Mountain discarding their sweaty wet socks, leaving them hanging from low branches once safely across the creek.

Most skiers, if not all of them observed this popular ritual after changing into fresh socks and hiking boots preceding their journey back to their vehicles six miles away. The hint about wet socks I am referring to in TTOTC mentioned wet socks hanging from a clothesline. How ironic once you have seen this spectacle for yourself here in the way most skiers observe to celebrate skiing the Blaze. Garlands of socks surrendered are left hanging above the trail immediately after the seventh crossing and before the sixth waterway-crossing on the way out as a ceremonial offering having returned safely from the mountain. I had just started to stand with my bear spray when I lost traction, then fell heavily back from the snowbank along the trunk of a solid seasoned spruce, its years approaching my own. The tree had grown through a shattered black stony bed of rock, the forest floor thereafter gently sloping down falling away to my right eventually over a nasty cliff edge into the ice cold creek far below. My pack grazed the spruce and twisted me to my right as I fell back along it.

I must have struck one of the blunt rocks to the back of my head just slightly to the right side. If I had fallen straight back my pack would have taken the brunt. My head clashed fairly heavily knocking me out for a few moments. I’m feeling really thirsty and I have a whistling sound in both my ears now, some kind of shock perhaps; my thought process is still not fully back on line yet. What little remains of my brain after all these years is still rebooting. Neurons lost to an average amount of alcohol as an adolescent and that relentless passage of time. I reach back and examine my head, a pretty nasty bump and some sticky matted hair, yes, it’s blood but not a lot, I have had worse. It seems to have stopped anyway; it is probably just a minor scalp laceration. I have been around long enough and had enough blows to the head to know they bleed like nowhere else.

Looking around I notice my water bottle a short distance down the slope halted by a nest of rocks interrupting its decent into the creek, You’re about twenty feet short, I murmur. Slipping the pack from my shoulders and releasing the belt around my waist, standing unsteadily, I recover it. Sitting back down against the bank, I take several sips of Spanish Lake Creek. I had the good sense to borrow some water on the last crossing. It was the first time I needed to pack water in. I am up and away from water for this last leg of the trek. The trail continues up still a way from here but it’s not so far to go now, next drinking water is up there in the meandering creeks harboring my treasure island. Sitting here against the snowbank still in recovery mode with the frozen white stuff crunching against