Buried treasure is the legacy of the American West. Just in the Euro-American tradition, start with the Seven Cities of Cibola — nowadays translated into a casino called the Cities of Gold, where treasures can be made, and lost.
Think of the 18th-century Victorio Peak stash, the missing U.S. Army payroll reputedly buried somewhere in San Juan County, or the Aztec gold horde similarly stashed somewhere near Silver City. Treasure hunter websites contend there’s supposed to be a trove hidden in a cave near our state’s Mexican border that is “knee deep” in gold coins. Or what about gold bars allegedly hidden outside Tres Piedras?
Enter Forrest Fenn. The Santa Fe gallery owner and antiquarian collector has created his own hidden treasure. Fenn and acquaintances say this is no tall tale. Hidden somewhere near cold water, in a canyon “too far to walk.” That describes a huge chunk on New Mexico, supposing that’s the political geography of where the horde is hidden. Describes, too, an even more enormous chunk of the intermountain West, or virtually all of the western United States.
Friends of Fenn say he’s having fun. He says that facing a suddenly shortened life expectancy in the wake of a cancer diagnosis, he decided to put the prizes of a collector’s lifetime in a private place. Now he’s written a book purportedly with clues to where the horde is located, and in recent months and weeks he’s garnered national media attention in the effort.
Sounds like fun to us. And more power to him: Another legend added to the West’s treasure lore, you would think, can’t hurt.
But what about that hiker in Bandelier recently, who said she was searching for Fenn’s fortune and had to be rescued? If you believe the media hype, treasure hunting tourists will be pouring into New Mexico this summer to continue the hunt, and given the mystery (or vagueness) of Fenn’s “directions,” they could get lost anywhere.
So be careful out there. And good luck.
