Chasing the Thrill of Fenn's Treasure (Fiction, Part 8)

This is Part 8 of a work of fiction. Please check my blog for the other parts. This chapter will not make sense unless you've read Parts 1-7 first!

They began in Cherry Creek State Park, a natural area just southeast of Denver, ostensibly for flood control. With the dam there, it was clearly a reservoir created by the hand of humans. But this was a larger and slightly more natural setting than most other major parks in the Denver area, such as City, Civic Center, Cheesman, and Washington Parks. Each of those were largely urban parks and Brody could not imagine Fenn having any interest in hiding treasure there.

Even Cherry Creek State Park required a seeker to stretch of the imagination. But being further from downtown than those other parks, it might comply with the “too far to walk” clue. When one looked at the map of Cherry Creek, running through metropolitan Denver, this was the most obvious spot where its waters halted: at the dam.

Jill asked to see Forrest Fenn’s poem again.

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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 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.

“So we’re clearly beneath the home of Molly Brown on a map and it’s too far to walk from there,” said Jill.

Brody nodded. “It could fit those. But one thing I’m missing here is a canyon. We aren’t in the mountains here. It’s more like the western edge of the Great Plains.”

“And yet, the South Platte and Cherry Creek have cut through this valley and eroded it over time, much as water does with a canyon,” Jill responded. “So technically, we followed that canyon down through Denver and ended up here.”

They began on the western side of the park.

There were some walking paths through a meadow and then the shoreline of the lake, but not much else in terms of natural features. Even the stones placed around this side of the lake’s perimeter looked like they had been brought in from elsewhere, probably from the mountains. They could also be backfill from when the reservoir was dug out, but the mountains nearby may have more big rocks than this valley.

Brody was disappointed at how sculpted the park seemed. He was sure there was no good hiding place here, even if some of the clues lined up. But anyway, it was a nice day and Jill seemed happy to be joining him for this segment of his treasure hunt. Until her phone started buzzing.

Jill’s phone made a sound and she responded to a text message.

Fenn had said no one was likely to find the treasure unless they were looking for it. But here, in a large metropolitan area, a busy park with families, picnickers, fishermen, gun range shooters, and cross country skiiers seemed a nearly impossible place to make a claim about no one accidentally finding the treasure.

“Let’s head down to where the creek comes in,” suggested Jill. “It’s more natural looking on that side.”

The creek area in the park was very pleasant. There was a small pedestrian bridge. The creek wound through a grove of small trees, the water rushing towards the lake, where much of it was impounded.

Could this be a place where warm water was halted by cold?

Lakes, oceans, and large bodies of water were often considered cold water by fishermen, while moving water was home to what were sometimes called warm water species of fish. Forrest Fenn certainly was an avid fisherman and no doubt was familiar with that terminology. But they searched around the area for most of the morning, finding nothing that would relate to any of Fenn’s other clues.

Standing on the foot bridge, Brody was ready to move on from Denver. This was prairie, not mountain, and Fenn had said the treasure was in the Rocky Mountains. Brody had known all along that it would be found further north in the mountains, where Fenn had spent much more time. Before heading north, he would consider checking out one site in the mountains to the west of Denver, but he also might conserve resources and go straight up to the next state.

“You don’t think it’s here, do you?” Jill asked as they stood looking over into the creek. A flock of geese headed out from the lake to some other destination. There was a chorus of honking as the geese commuted overhead.

Brody shook his head. “As nice a park as this is, it doesn’t seem a likely place for an outdoorsman, who loves the mountains and spent a lot of time there, to hide his fabled loot.”

Jill said she understood. “Where then? You told me you started in New Mexico. Will you keep looking in Colorado?”

“I’ll head north,” said Brody. “Forrest Fenn spent many summers in and around Yellowstone National Park. I think the most likely area is near there.”

“I’ve always wanted to go up there,” said Jill, “but I haven’t seen Yellowstone yet. For an earth scientist like me, it’s kind of a required pilgrimage.”

Just as Brody was wrestling with the idea of having a companion for his Yellowstone area search, she dashed the notion.

“Unfortunately, I have to get back to my research,” she said. “For me, Yellowstone will have to wait.”

Her phone buzzed again. Jill smiled as she looked at the screen.

“Well, thank you for showing me your local park,” said Brody. “It’s a beautiful place, even if it isn’t a treasure trove in the Fenn sense.”

“Anytime,” said Jill, who continued to type into her phone as she spoke to Brody. It seemed slightly rude, but some things cannot be postponed. Without text messages to handle her communications, she might need to be in a meeting. If some texting was the price of a morning walk in the park, then perhaps it was worth that cost.

Jill tried to focus on him with a big smile. “I hope you’ll come back through Denver. If you’re still searching in a few weeks, maybe I’ll have time to join you on the trail.”

“I’d like that,” said Brody, who had decided he’d like to see more of Jill, even if he wasn’t sure about taking on a treasure hunting partner. Then there was the reality of money; his finances were tight and would reach the breaking point in the next couple of weeks. He’d need to come back to civilization and find a job if he didn’t find the treasure soon.

She looked at another text message.

“Change of plans. Do you have time for coffee?” Jill asked as they reached the parking lot. “My boss wants to meet you.”

This was Part 8 of a fictional story

Please check my blog for the other parts. The picture above is a montage made by the author based on images from the Forest Fenn books, Thrill of the Chase (One Horse Land & Cattle Co. 2010) and Too Far to Walk (same publisher 2013) and public domain material, including the border photo of the Yellowstone River. Here is a link to Fenn's book; I do not make any profit from recommending it. https://www.collectedworksbookstore.com/product/thrill-chase-forrest-fenn I simply thought the whole saga would provide an interesting background for this novel.