Thoughts and Ideas

So, what about the poem...


I'm going to warn you in advance that if you're looking here to find the answer to Fenn's riddle you've come to the wrong place. I'll gladly share my ideas, but I caution that they come at a price. If you are searching for Forrest Fenn's treasure and you're on the right path, these postings will surely throw you off.

First things first...

The thing that strikes me first about Mr. Fenn's ode to the ore is the title.  There doesn't appear to be one. Who writes a poem and neglects to title it?  Now, there is a heading just before the intro that could double as  a title I suppose.  But if you know anything about Fenn, you know that "The Poem" isn't creative enough for a   man of Forrest Fenn's background.  I believe that the title, or lack thereof, is part of Fenn's  puzzle. I don't think it's THE key, but I think it's important. I believe that Fenn tells us the title at the end the poem.

"I give you title to the gold"

There it is right there: "To The Gold" --an appropriate title if I've ever heard one.  So what to do with it?  I'll give you some ideas but in the end, this is your problem. I've got enough of my own.


Anagrams and other fun with letters...


I believe that Forrest likes anagrams.  Rearranging letters to form new words from old ones sounds to me like something Fenn would enjoy.  Have I found some in the poem? Yes I have, but you judge the relevance for yourself.  Forrest mentions his love of anagrams in the book.  A butterfly is really a flutterby, right?  So, I began my search.  I took the long route and decided to look for signs of anagrams beyond the obvious. I noticed the following piece of Fenn's poem and thought it might be a clue:

"Begin it where warm waters halt."

Right there in the same sentence it says "begin" and "halt."  Could it be that something begins and ends between those words?  Are they instructions? I didn't know the answer so I began with the first thing that came to mind--counting the letters.

I counted the letters between the words begin and halt.  17 was the number and I began thinking of how I might apply that to the puzzle. I decided that the the thing to do was to read the poem and write down every 17th letter. Those letters are as follows:


irenaednforeituaielutveesvawdeyorot

A ridiculous mess of nonsensical gibberish to be sure.  But I pressed on.  I rearranged the letters and, using all of them, I decoded the following words:

dry santa fe river one wood

Turns out that the Santa Fe river does indeed run dry in places.  The water takes a course below the surface for long stretches. If you were inclined to go up this particular creek, you'd have no use for a paddle to be sure.

But let's not get too excited.  The letters, when rearranged, make up other compelling words as well.  You can find the word forest in those letters. You can also find Red River, and Forrest, and National Forest...

Does this mean that my theory is wrong? Does it mean that I'm totally off course and the poem contains no hidden message?  No. It only means I haven't found it...yet.

Note:  It's interesting to note that the poem uses every letter in the alphabet but the letter X. I'm not convinced that it's important, but X does mark the spot, right?



Map or Cipher?

So is the poem a map or a cipher?  My instinct tells me it's both. I think there is a cipher or code (they are different) that reveals important information regarding where hunt should begin.  Once you're standing in that spot I believe that the poem can be used in its literal form, as a guide. For now my attention is focused on finding evidence of a cipher or code. If you're interested in pursuing this particular theory, one suggestion would be to google up a few terms like "poem cipher" and "cryptographic poem" and "book cipher" for ideas about what might be going on here. Most codes and ciphers use numbers and letters, either as the plain text or as the key. I'll let you know if I find a good series of numbers to play with...




Punctuation!

Paying attention to Fenn's punctuation could be an important part of solving this mystery.  There are several things going on here and while this could be a red herring, they are certainly worth considering.  I'll start with a line that is partichrowv ularly bothersome to me.

Put in below the home of Brown

Now, this in and of itself may not seem like much (odd as the phrase may be), but let's look at the sentence structure.  It isn't a continuation of the previous sentence. Which is:

 Begin it where warm waters halt, and take it in the canyon down, not far but too far to walk.

So what of it? Well, before I noticed the punctuation, I kept asking myself what was being put in the water. Once I noticed that "Put in below the home of Brown" was its own sentence I began looking at the structure of it. A sentence has to have a subject and a verb, right? So what is the subject in this sentence?  The answer is that the sentence gives a command, order, or suggestion and therefor it is the person being directed that receives the honor of being the subject--an understood you. The subject of the "Brown" sentence is you.

You put in below the home of Brown.

Is this the spot where I should launch a row boat?  Is that where I "put in" or have I just taken another misstep in this complex labyrinth of possibilities?  I've said it before... You figure it out. I've got enough of my own problems.


Sentences...

If you're studying the nine clues in the poem (home of Brown, water high, in the wood, etc...) there's something else to consider.  There are exactly nine sentences in Fenn's poem. Could it be that each sentence can be considered its own clue?