Trip 2….

So, it began, as another trip would. Packing and prepping, wondering how to fit it all in, excitement and everything else.Surely the car will need some extra room on the way home? I have studied and planned, read and read again. I understand the vastness of the land, as I live and travel here often. Yet, somehow, again, I have envisioned the map, the clues, the treasure nestled quietly in my car, only to return with slightly suffering pride, dusty and bitten but full of new treasures. On this journey, I took my own treasure and placed it in an obvious spot to look. I know I followed your footsteps perhaps? Imagine my excitement to see the blaze ! Ah, I had been wise and in the wood, found a blaze, looked quickly down… And well..found? Now, when you have put it in below the home of Brown, taken it in the canyon down after starting it where warm waters ended, were up a creek and all that stuff, you know you must have been wise? Well, now your trusty treasure hunting shovel will strike upon this box filled with treasures abounding! The trusty treasure hunting shovel, as a side note, and as a novice treasure hunter, is an item to be placed upon the leaving checklist: tp, maps, books, water, food, flashlight, sink, tent, shovel, sandwich, Dal t shirt, oh heck.. Bear spray… Did I remember the bear spray? Perhaps you have seen me out there, or more like heard me, bells ringing, hollering for my squirrel chasing hounds to get in bounds, camera snapping, Prius trails hot on the chase. Recently, on a dusty road in Wyoming, the look upon the locals face, had I not been being polite, I would have to share. I was holding on only with my toes, on my car roof rack, getting fantastic footage on film, when we needed to pass. I of course could not do the standard Wyoming wave, upon passing, as I would lose my grip, and though only traveling at roof filming speed ahead, this might not have been as pretty as my black cowboy hat! She proceeded to shoot me her best dumb tourist look, only to look down at Sage and Duke running beside the car too. This was too much, but, as I could only nod, the least I could do was turn my camera’s eye away! Oh, don’t worry , I have been practicing roof riding since my Daddy threw my brother and I on top of the wagoneer and said, “you better hold on now!” So, once again I return with treasures abounding in both memories old and new, additions to the rock garden, book worthy photos…hey…? Was that a squirrel? Lol is word now, did ya know? Oh.. Yes, treasure, the illusive Bronze box sits not in the pile of tents, tarps, lights, soggy sandwiches gone bad, but yet in it’s softly scented spot. ( -am I supposed to save the sandwich as a victory meal, or do I need to eat I to find it, or is this too much of a clue? ) I hope to meet Forrest one day and ask him.

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4 thoughts on “Trip 2….

  1. Pingback: Trip 2…. | Up A Cold Creek With No Paddle

  2. my sister and i are sitting here laughing because we have been on the same roads getting that same wyoming wave,lol. You sound a lot like us we have went two times now and feel like the journey has helped us as much as finding the treasure would. If we see your prius passing we will wave you down and share some moonshine and some laughs. Keep posting and dont get ate by a grizzly!

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