Confessions of a die-hard treasure hunter

Possibly one of the greatest treasure hunts of our time: New Mexico’s Forrest Fenn dared us to find a treasure chest filled with millions of dollars in gold and precious stones he hid somewhere in the American West. He dangled tantalizing clues in his best-selling memoir The Thrill of the Chase, clues he said would lead directly to the treasure. Finders keepers.

Admittedly, I am one of the jolly number of people throughout the world caught up in the treasure hunt excitement. If you were, too, I consider myself in good company. That’s why I want to share with you how I found the treasure.

Yep, I found the treasure! Here’s the key.

Grab yourself a copy of The Thrill of the Chase and a Bible. If you don’t have copies on hand, now’s the perfect time to order from your local bookseller. They’d surely appreciate your support.

To me, Fenn’s writing is one man’s ode to the glory of God. Every verse is a waypoint on the trail of life’s journey. Our path may become difficult, obstacles may confound us, but even out of darkness and devastation, new generations rise to delight us. We only need to look at the beauty of creation to know God has not forgotten us. Baptized of the water, born again, we are promised salvation. Seek and ye shall find.

Ten months after figuring out where to look, my awesome travel companion and I had our boots on the ground high up in the Rocky Mountains. As we journeyed, Fenn’s words echoed, pushing us onward through some of the most spectacular scenery imaginable.

Pressing on, we emerged from a dark thicket to discover fresh animal tracks going our way. I got down on bended knee to inspect them. I felt empowered — like Tonto from the Lone Ranger, whose expert tracking abilities always saved the day — and made some quick observations: Big paws. Claw marks. Grizzly! I measured its size by extending my thumb and pinkie over the print and waiving from side to side like flashing the Hawaiian hand sign for “hang loose.” I bet the bear had a good laugh. With a 7-inch-wide paw, that grizzly was in the 7-foot range from snout to tail. My co-adventurer and I put together would be but a kibble.

The bear zone was the only possible way to get to the treasure chest that day. It was high risk. We’d need to cross a river boiling with icy snowmelt, climb in elevation through a deep forest, drop into a steep ravine and do it all again in reverse order with a 40-pound-plus treasure chest.

No one knew exactly where we were, only when to expect us back. Would $1 million justify the risk? $2 million? $3 million?

Standing near a fallen tree that looked like an old rugged cross, we silently contemplated our fate.

A chipmunk popped up out of the moss-covered rocks at our feet, delighted to have company. Graciously he showed off his treasures of seeds, roots and herbs. For the first time, I noticed the fragrance of wild mint, and all my cares melted away.

A trio of hikers picked their way down the slope toward us. Instinctively, I knew they were our competitors. They were treasure hunters! For a moment, I envisioned a no-holds-barred race to the finish — The Thrill of the Chase.

At the end of the day, God loves us all, and this is the true treasure.

Tina Lassila is an Arizona-based adventurer who always looks for the sunny side.