Look for the video around mid-April, 2017.
Cimarron, translated from Spanish to English, means “Wild Place.”
7 Then Herod, when he had privily called the wise men, enquired of them diligently what time the star appeared.
8 And he sent them to Bethlehem, and said, Go and search diligently for the young child; and when ye have found him, bring me word again, that I may come and worship him also.
9 When they had heard the king, they departed; and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was.
10 When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.
Matthew, Ch 2, Vs 7-10,
The New Testament
King James Version of the Bible
I had a dream.
I dreamed I was standing at the edge of a canyon, hydraulically routed down the geology of someplace in the mountains North of Santa Fe. I was on the Western side of the canyon, facing East, the river below flowing North to South. The sun was low, but not near setting in the sky, casting my shadow across the canyon so that it fell upon the far wall. As the sun set and my shadow rose my ephemeral head eventually pointed to a large star shape in the rock on the East wall of the canyon. It was large enough to be seen without aid, and difficult to discern whether it was natural or not.
Anchoring myself with a rope, and a pair of carabiner clipped to a safety belt, I walked to the edge of the canyon and leaned over. I looked quickly down, and could see the faint, cool outline of a trail switching back and forth from the canyon floor to the canyon rim North of my position. About three quarters up the side of the canyon wall one of the ledges on its side stood out from the others. In a depression on the ledge laid a brown box. The ledge was high enough above the trail that the box could not be seen by anyone walking upon the trail as it continued North from that point.
By that time the sun had set, and dusk had fallen upon the location. I wondered, for just a moment, whether or not the treasure would tolerate one more night alone, cold, undiscovered and uncared for.
I stood back from the canyon edge, untangled myself from the safety belt and anchor rope, hoisted my pack upon my back, and headed for my campsite. I found a grassy spot near my tent, and using my backpack for a pillow, I laid down to admire the stars in the unpolluted sky overhead. The moon not having risen, the Constellations shown almost in neon. I called their names out to them. They did not call out my name to me.
Protected by Orion’s sword, I fell asleep outside my tent and sleeping bag.
And, I had a dream.
Pilar, New Mexico. South of Taos on SR 68 along the Rio Grande.
I am, for some unexplainable reason, continually drawn back to this area. It was populated by Puebloans as far back as 1000BCE. If “Brown” is a color, then the boulders in this part of the gorge make this the home of Brown. Odd to find a street sign with the words Aguas Calientes (plural), “warm waters.” Orilla Verde, “Green Corner.” Arroyo Hondo, “Deep River.”
There are petroglyps everywhere along the hiking trails.
While I was trout fishing this evening, an owl hooted loudly and continually behind me. Turning, I could see him perched in a small, dead tree about halfway up the far of the canyon.
I haven’t quite put it all together, but, there is mystery in the place.
Brian Porter is from Indiana. Recently, when he and his wife were traveling, the airlines announced they were overbooked and offered vouchers and later flights for anyone willing to give up their seats. Brian volunteered and used the voucher to make a search trip to New Mexico.
Did I mention he’s from Indiana?
The next time I get lazy about driving a couple hours up North on a weekend, I’m going to remind myself of Brian.
He contacted me, first by mail to let me know he was landing in Albuquerque, and offered to buy me lunch if we could get together. He wasn’t aware that I had already headed North for the weekend. We exchanged a few texts and discovered he was West of the Rockies and I was East, but Taos was, relatively speaking, between us.
So, with a little more texting we organized a meetup at the Coffee Shop near Moby Dickens Book Shop in Taos, New Mexico on Sunday, November 10, 2013.
We spent about two hours exchanging war stories related to our respective treasure hunts. I offered to let him stay at my place in Albuquerque because his flight was Monday morning, but my mother’s passing prevented me from getting back to Albuquerque.
It was fun and informative meeting another searcher, especially one who has put as much research and thought into the effort as has Brian. We had of course, both searched the same area he had come to recon with this trip. He wasn’t quite prepared for New Mexico’s forest roads, but survived the adventure with a flair, and plans to return.
I let him know that whenever he returned to New Mexico, he had a place to stay in Albuquerque.