Sunday, January 19, 2014

A Watery Grave of Gold

I wanted to write about this fantastic legend myself and just take bits and pieces from my son Ben's narrative, but his is so good that I just had to post it in his own words. In the image below, the cliff just to the left there, where there is an overhang, is where the gold is supposedly buried.
 




“Sometimes the things that may or may not be true are the things a man needs to believe in the most. That people are basically good; that honor, courage, and virtue mean everything; that power and money mean nothing; that good always triumphs over evil; and I want you to remember this, that love... true love never dies. You remember that, boy. Doesn't matter if it's true or not. You see, a man should believe in those things, because those are the things worth believing in.”

Ever since I was a little kid, this quote from the movie Second Hand Lions has stuck with me. I've always liked how it describes belief. That a man needs to believe in important things, even if those things aren't proven facts. Another aspect I like is how money and power mean nothing, and that love means everything. Sometimes I get so caught up on things that I think are true. For instance, sometimes I think if I could win the lottery, or somehow land in a towering pile of Benjamins, I would automatically have it made in this life. But money and happiness don't always correlate with each other. I learned that lesson this past summer, the summer I heard the best story of my life.

An unexpected opportunity arose in July to go to Southern Utah for a couple of days. My buddy Caleb owns a bit of private property in Kanab, and I was invited on the spur of the moment to go down there for a carefree vacation. Locals call the area Three Lakes, chiefly because there are three “lakes” on the property. I wouldn't really call them lakes, more like miniature ponds, but all the same they were refreshing to swim in, and the fishing was amazing. We'd cast out into the clear water, and usually in less than a minute we'd have a blue gill or a bass on our lines. The surrounding atmosphere was somewhat like Lake Powell. With tall crimson cliffs encompassing deep blue water. Atop one of the red rock cliffs was a zip line that spanned across the entire length of the pond. Caleb and I spent most of our days in Kanab down at the biggest, and most hospitable of the three lakes. Beside that lake, with the smoke of our campfire rising up to meet the glittering stars, was where I heard the story of the Aztec gold for the first time.

Over fifty years ago, Caleb's grandpa bought Three Lakes as a sanctuary for his posterity. A place where you could breath without somebody else breathing right down your neck. The privacy at Three Lakes is heavenly. You can walk out the back door and shoot a rabbit without worrying about the law. You can spend weeks exploring the miles of property, or swimming and fishing in the lakes. That's what Three Lakes was in the beginning, but it became much more than that.
In 1914, a man named Freddie Crystal made a huge commotion when he came into Kanab with a treasure map from Mexico. He claimed that the map led to a spot a few miles out of Kanab in Johnson's canyon where Montezuma ( the last ruler of the Aztec empire) had supposedly hidden all of his gold. Archaeologists estimate that Montezuma's lost treasure would be the biggest and most valuable treasure ever to be unearthed. When the citizens of Kanab heard this, the whole town flocked to Johnson's canyon, searching every cave and crevice for gold. What they found was interesting, but also disappointing. After several long months of excavating, all they found were booby traps, and a couple shards of ancient Indian pottery. The gold was never found, and the town's people all gave up the search in vain, returning back to their normal lives.

The case seemed to be closed, until years later when Caleb's grandpa, Brandt Child, made an exciting discovery. Scientists found that the Aztec's sometimes used water traps to conceal their gold. What they would do is find a cave in a rock wall, hide the gold somewhere inside, and then fill the area up with water so that the passage to the treasure was buried underneath the water. Never to be seen by the naked eye. Scientists have found several of these water traps, and in all cases, one factor is always the same. The depth of the water from the surface, to the entrance of the underwater cave is always 25 Ft. After hearing this, Brandt tested the depth of the largest pond at Three Lakes out of sheer curiosity. The depth of the pond was 25 Ft. deep. Brandt then hired Scuba divers to go down into the water to check things out. To everyone's surprise, the divers found a tunnel that went straight into the cliff wall, and then branched out into a network of underwater passageways. However, when the divers tried exploring these caves, strange things kept on happening to them. The first time, one of the divers had to come back to the surface because the nozzle on her tank somehow came loose, and all of her air was released. On the second attempt, a couple members of the diving team claimed to see ghosts in the water. Similar things kept on happening when Brandt hired more divers. Each team of diver's was spooked off in some way, and after a while no scuba diver's would even come near the lake.

The next thing they tried doing to get to the gold, was to drill down into the water from the top of the cliff. They drilled into the water trap, and when the drill was taken back up, there was gold on the drill bit. Brandt decided he was going to need a bigger drill. They would try again the next day. But that would never happen, that night the driller went home and died of a sudden heart attack. A couple months later his wife also passed away. More than a little spooked out, Brandt decided to try one last thing. Probably the most logical thing to do was to drain the lake. Then one could easily waltz right into the cave and claim Montezuma's treasure. He might've done it too, if it wasn't for an endangered species of snail that lives at Three Lakes, called the Amber Snail. The State Wildlife Protectors wouldn't let him drain the lake, because it would damage the habitat of the Amber Snail.       
After a while Brandt Child stopped going after Montezuma's gold. He believed (with good reason) that it was cursed, and that if he pursued that gold any further he would end up a dead man. Since then, nobody has ever tried to obtain the gold at Three Lakes. It would have been foolishness, but as I sat around the crackling fire that night, I couldn't help but feel a burning gold fever well up inside of my body. The greatest treasure ever to be found on this continent, was possibly lying only yards from where I sat, sleeping for eternity underneath a cursed watery grave. Buried in the same water that I had been swimming in all day. Why couldn't I somehow get the gold? I didn't have the authority, resources, or equipment by any means. But what if, for some divine reason, Caleb and I were the chosen ones, heavenly commissioned to bring the gold back to the world. We slept under the stars that night, and talked about these sort of silly unanswerable questions. My gold fever slowly winded down as I gazed up into the starry sky, thinking more deeply about life and the gold. The availing words eventually drifted into my mind; power and money mean nothing, and true love means everything. To this day, I believe that a vast treasure is hidden beneath that beautiful lake in Kanab. But much more important than money, I believe that people are naturally good; that honor, courage, virtue, and love mean everything. Those are the things that are worth believing in.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014







One night a woman had a dream She dreamed she was walking in the snow with the Lord.
Across the sky flashed scenes from her life. For each scene she noticed sometimes there were two sets of footprints, one human and one animal.
When the last scene of her life flashed before her, she looked back at the footprints.
She noticed that the two sets of footprints always happened at the very saddest times of her life.
This really bewildered her and she questioned the Lord.
Lord, why, during my most difficult times do I see two sets of footprints; one human and one animal?”
The Lord smiled and said. “It was during those times that your dog walked with you.”

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

What I Really Need

My family and I went to Zion National Park in southern Utah for Labor Day weekend with some friends. The whole idea was that we would rappel a few slot canyons - Yankee Doodle, Key Hole, and the granddaddy of them all, Pine Creek. Needless to say, I chickened out at the last minute. I am terrified of heights. It's not the normal fear that most people have. No. I am frozen with fear. I don't mind minor down- climbs, and really, standing on the edge of a cliff doesn't bother me. It's the thought of going over the cliff, even in a harness, or even with someone there to catch me, that horrifies me.
It's not a rational fear, not one I can talk myself out of. It's the same way I feel at the top of a rather steep slope when skiing. Suddenly all logic evades me. I freeze.
But you know, I still had a wonderful time and here's why. I realized what really matters in my life.
We stayed at a campground quite far from the park itself, in red canyon country. That night we stood under the moonlight (a Blue Moon!) and watched the moon cast our shadows. The whole night the sky was so bright that you could see the clouds. The moon illuminated those red cliffs, washing them in cool silver light. And then, something I've always yearned to hear - coyotes howled. It was a raw, wild lullaby.
Earlier that evening, my friend Craig was telling me about a second home a mutual friend owns. He was describing the home's luminous granite floors and a shower that mimics the feel of standing under a (warm) waterfall. It was luxury and excess in my mind.
It became very clear to me what luxury is for me. It's hearing coyotes howl under a blue moon. It's walking up a river bed and standing under a cool waterfall. It's being surrounded by great cliffs and Ponderosa pines. It's watching red sunsets that take your breath away. It's being with family and friends who love one another and truly enjoy each other's company.
I don't think I'll ever rappel. At least not 70 feet of free hanging like those intrepid family members and friends did. I've decided to be more gentle with myself and honor the fears I have. They humble me. They make me realize there are always things in our lives we cannot conquer. Our fears are conduits of truth, revealing aspects of ourselves we would rather not see. But as they reveal our weaknesses, they also reveal our strengths. I am strong enough to admit when something is too big or too scary for me. In a way, I am strong enough to realize that I am not always strong. I am strong enough to acknowledge what really matters in life. My family and friends love me despite my fears. My son Andrew even volunteered to spend the day with me instead of going on the Pine Creek rappel. We had a wonderful time. He admitted he probably had more fun than the others did that day. We found a Starbucks and drank hot chocolate. We went bouldering along Pine Creek and swam in water holes, we talked to cool people and Andrew even helped a lady get her Harley out of a sandy area alongside the road. (She must have weighed as much as the bike. Five men had to help her!)

And what matters is so very simple. Good friends and family and the wild around me. The lyrics of the song "Cowboy Take Me Away" by the Dixie Chicks pretty much sums it up:

" I wanna touch the earth I wanna break it in my hands
I wanna grow something wild and unruly
I wanna sleep on the hard ground in the comfort of your arms
On a pillow of blue bonnets in a blanket made of stars
Oh it sounds good to me

Cowboy take me away fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue
Set me free oh I pray closer to heaven above and closer to you
Closer to you

I wanna walk and not run, I wanna skip and not fall
I wanna look at the horizon, and not see a building standing tall
I wanna be the only one, for miles and miles
Except for maybe you, and your simple smile

Oh it sounds good to me, yes it sounds so good to me,

Cowboy take me away, fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue
Set me free, oh, I pray, closer to heaven above, and closer to you
Closer to you


Wednesday, March 3, 2010

I don't have the farm of my dreams but I have come to realize that I need to make do.
I do have 2/3 of an acre which includes garden space and pasture. I have two chicken coops with twelve or so hens and one Silkie rooster that acts like a fop. (A fop, which I only recently learned, means "a man who is excessively vain and concerned about his dress, appearance, and manners.")
I just got 20 meat chickens this morning. They are so cute when they are babies! My almost-eleven-year old, Matthew, cautioned against becoming too attached to them, knowing the end from the beginning. He calls them the "yum chickens" and he is right. They are down right delicious once they are all plump and ready to "harvest." (And pretty ugly too.)
I just ordered four ducks which will be the herdees for my Border Collie as he learns to be the herder. You start with ducks because they have a flock or herd mentality like sheep to stay in groups. But they are a bit easier to manage. (And very cute by the way.) And no, I'm not planning on any Duck L'Orange.
Basically what I have come to understand is that even if the farm girl is not in the country, she can bring the country to her. And that is my goal. So, join me on my front porch and we'll chat about my blossoming urban farm.
Watch for forthcoming photos, ideas, recipes and just plain farm girl thoughts.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Blog therapy

I just saw Julie and Julia, the movie that follows the lives of Julie (last name?) and Julia Child. I realized that blogging can be very therapeutic and I think that's just what I need. I'm not into the one sentence headline of Facebook, ie; "Josie...is baking cookies..." I need to write and express myself more fully and hopefully people will read what I have to say and find it interesting (or weird..or pathetic).
For a long time I was emailing a friend and it was fun to actually put thoughts down knowing that someone was really going to read it and respond. When they stopped responding (I guess they must have thought I was weird or pathetic) I stopped writing my thoughts and feelings.
Every once in a while I get a good idea for a story. Usually a romance, always schmaltzy. I can't get over how sappy the storyline is. Sometimes I lose myself in the action and live more in my story than in real life. Not long ago I spent hours and hours writing a story. I neglected the house and my boys (including Rob and my dog). I was caught up in the story, enjoying the adventures of my heroine. After a week or so I realized that I was having more fun in my heroine's life than in my own. I enjoy movies for the same reason, they are all having an adventure. Their lives always have some meaning and significance. When the movie is over it is hard to get back into real life. It's like the Christmas Eves we would have with the movie camera. My dad would turn on the spotlight and it would be bright and beautiful while he was "filming" us. Then he would turn it off and everything would be dull and dim.
It's time for me to enjoy what I'm doing in real life. To have adventure and live meaningfully.
So it is my quest to fine out what I'm here on this earth to accomplish - and get busy doing it instead of writing about it.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Fall chicks?


My little Jungle Pea Hen loves to have babies. She has just hatched her fourth clutch of cute, bright eyed chicks. She's a very good mother, clucking at them and making sharp kk..kk noises to instruct them what to eat. The problem is that she is very naive. She doesn't realize that the big Tom turkey wants to eat her children and that there are rats just waiting for a midnight snack. In fact, if she tried to do it alone, her babies wouldn't survive. That's where I come in, the "deus ex machina", helping this poor mother by bringing her and her brood into my root cellar, supplying the food and water, warmth and safety.
In general, the "deus ex machina" is a poor literary tool. It means "god from the machine" and is a plot device used by authors in which a person or object suddenly appears out of nowhere to rescue a character from doom. It's a cop out. It's not good writing. But it's what I do a lot in real life.
This is the conflict all biologists studying animals have. Do they allow the animal to suffer in it's natural habitat for the sake of realistic research or save the animal they've come to love?
And it's not just animals I save but my sons as well when I fear the consequences will be too hard to bear. When they forget their homework and call me pleading, "Mom, can you bring me my homework, if I don't turn it in I'll get an F," how can I say no?
"Experts" say that I'm not letting them learn natural consequences for their actions and they'll never be functional adults if I always run to their aid. To them I say, it may be bad literature, but everyone needs some sort of deus ex machina in their life. Be it a mom, or an angel neighbor, we sometimes are in need of someone appearing out of nowhere to bring us aid.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Gorgeous Inside!

Once in a while I'll come across a Realtor sign dangling under "for sale" that says, "gorgeous inside." It always makes me laugh and want to say, "Me too!"
I'm just going to be honest with myself, I am just not drop down gorgeous on the outside. My company always asks me to do voice recording but never modeling. They never say it but I know, I'd never make it as an actress. Or a Country singer. I'm not in the least bit photogenic. I'm not the world's version of the perfect weight. (Raphael's paintings reflect the ideals of a different era where his "ideal" women are fleshy and curvy. What happened to that "perfect 10" ???) But....if they could only see the inside!! I think a lot of women feel the same way. Overlook the sagging porch, the peeling paint on the fascia and awnings, the droopy flowers and unkempt lawn.....just look inside where we shine! I truly am gorgeous inside. :)
I love the movie "Shallow Hal" about a man who is "hypnotized" into seeing people as they are on the inside instead of outside. There's the really ugly, bony, anemic nurse who is really beautiful but he doesn't see that, the handsome Hawaiian whose really obese, and of course, the "love interest", the beautiful, kind and loving woman he sees and falls in love with who is actually very overweight. I found out the actress....(the name slips me) put on a "fat suit" for the part and actually walk around in public to get used to it. In real life this woman always has men gawking at her but "fat"- even though she's the same person inside - no one looked twice!
I'm lucky enough to have a husband and family and friends who love me just the way I am. And of course, I'm always trying to improve my looks....I just wish I could wear a sign around my neck that says, "Gorgeous Inside." Do you think then that I could make it in Hollywood? :)