Metropolis (Kid Stuff)

Treasure hunting is a lonely business.  At least as I practice it.  Hardly a day goes by that I don’t think that it would be nice to have a partner, even a team of people working with me.  The encouragement, the camaraderie, the give-and-take would all be valued blessings.    But from the very first days, I knew that I would have to go alone if I ever were to move into that age when a boy becomes a man.  That, and the stark fact that friends with the interest didn’t have the time and friends with the time didn’t have the interest.  All of which may be for the best because at the end of day “The Chase” is all about pursuing theories.  And a rational person may well label many of my theories as suspect, some might say crazy.  So be it.  Let me share one of my favorite examples.

Metropolis is a ghost town in the Northeast corner of Nevada.  Established in 1910 as an agricultural community it never quite managed to live up to its name.  While initially favorable rains allowed the population to peak at about 700 hearty souls, the community’s fate was given a mortal blow when water rights could not be obtained.  Nevertheless, Metropolis soldiered on for a number of years through a typhoid epidemic, an inundation of jackrabbits, an infestation of Mormon Crickets, and the incineration of its landmark hotel.  Each blow took its toll.  And by 1950, Metropolis had abandoned its position to the sage.

It was June of 2014, and I had driven most of the morning through a summer snow storm - big wet crystals easily the size of pillow feathers that made visibility a challenge.  I was fearful that the chase would have to be called on account of weather.  But thankfully, the flakes slushed immediately upon contact with the ground and after a couple false starts the most recognizable feature remaining in Metropolis, remnants of Lincoln School building, came into view far off in the scrub.

Covering the last few hundred yards on foot I tried to imagine Metropolis as it had been in its heyday but without much luck.  Skeletons of concrete structures, a rusted out car picked clean to the bone, graffiti, bullet holes, and a cemetery were all that remained.  Nary a single echo of good times past.  Lonesome.

Now the conjecture that a single location would reveal the treasure was relinquished long ago.  Central to my quest is the theory that there are many paths or threads.  And each thread will ultimately lead to a piece of the puzzle which in turn may someday come together as a whole with the help of some luck, ingenuity, perseverance, luck, and…….wa-lah!  But understand, that’s just me.

And so it was this day.  A number of “clues” within a single thread brought me to the remains of the Lincoln School building because no amount of online research could tell me what was under the main floor of the school.  Specifically, I was interested in the stairs down to the lower level of the school.  Well, once I saw the condition of the structure I had visions of floors collapsing and rattlesnakes slithering.  But with the temperature in the high 30’s, any snake worth his rattles was underground.  Nonetheless, I tread lightly.  Upon entering the “basement”, the number of classrooms was somewhat discouraging.  And the amount of graffiti was downright depressing – if Forrest left some sort of coded message painted on a wall it truly was a needle in a haystack.  The shear volume of possibilities made me lose focus.  Nonetheless, I took pictures of what seemed to be possible “clues”, packed up my disappointment, and headed off to the next destination along a different thread.

A few weeks later, I was home looking through the pictures and trying to rethink the “Metropolis” thread.  But no matter how hard I tried, back came the stair cases.  So, once again for the third or fourth time, this photo was enlarged and this time……there it was.

Do you see it?

The wee tiny peace-sign written on the vertical support.  And then the midden below – home of the ever so humble yet industrious pack rat.  And with some research, more “clues” followed in line and……..wa-lah, a “puzzle piece” was pulled from the hat. Now forgive me.  Discretion coupled with a dose of paranoia prevents me from saying what I think that “piece” is or how it might fit overall.  This is a treasure hunt after all.

And you say “That’s crazy.”  I hear ya.  Treasure hunting is a lonely business.