Not-so buried treasure

Expressionless, he says, “you should go look in there”

He takes a few steps away from a dumpster at the end of a county road; at the Twin Lakes trailhead in Eldorado National Forest.

The likely pop into my head: a bag of disemboweled trout, nitrile gloves next to a bloody finger, a raccoon eating a sandwich…

At 42, unphased by blood, guts, chemicals and varmint, I peer in.

And, a double take…

White folded bags and little red farm houses…

An oh so familiar white font on red banner with yellow trim.

Neatly aligned rows, 8 by 10, maybe by 12?

Interminable pyramids poised for picking, in a cardboard box intended for a college mini-fridge.

Packages untainted by dust, oil, or dander, except maybe for a juice box thrown on top.

Now…there were not any Mint Milanos.

But, who in this world would complain about enough Naples and Genevas to feed yourself and your entire family of four for another six weeks?

If you just lugged a 30+ pound pack six miles at 6000 feet, you will take chocolate in any form.

Not one of us bothered to check the expiration date of those Pepperidge Farm delights. Those never matter for candy or cookies for our Hura-d.

In collaboration, we decided to Santa Claus hikers as they approached us eating our lunch…

“Hi there, do you like cookies?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Look in there!”

We all giggled microscopically at the hiker dude who excitedly reassured himself he could grab a bag when he analyzed the packages’ markings which showed another 6 months or so of freshness

We each had our hypothesis of their occurrence:

-A boy scout troop had to ditch the extra weight before their hike.

-Traveling sales people needed to hide them somewhere safe from bears while they enjoyed a dip in Wright’s lake.

-A sweet, but mischievous ranger grandma with a smoke’s cough envisioned gifting each hiker on Saturday with a bag of cookies as they departed or entered Desolation Wilderness.

-Dionysus, the God of wine and feasts, bestowed a gift to nice hikers of the forest in exchange for their agreement to construct a “booty-fort” out of fallen Ponderosa and Jeffrey pine branches along Grouse lake.

Can you guess which one was Zennen and Finn’s?

It is hard to tell which of these possibilities was correct…

Except for one hard-fast fact:

It certainly satiates to strike GOLD in Gold Country

On descending switchbacks from Grouse Lake, Finn exclaims,

“I think I am going to try the kitruss when I get back there.”

“Kit? Oh, sit-rus with a C …

Yeah, that one looked good. So will I.”