Note: In celebration of the 30th anniversary of the theatrical release of The Goonies, I will be sharing my own true "Goonies" story throughout the month of June. Thanks for reading, and remember: "Goonies never say die!"
The
story of the Neahkahnie treasure is a simple one. Centuries ago, both the
Clatsop and Tillamook Indians told white settlers the tale of a “winged canoe”
that landed on the beach just south of the mountain. Somewhere in the vicinity
the Indians watched from a distance as several white men dug a hole, filled it
with a large chest, placed a dead body over it for protection, and then covered
it with dirt. But the legend doesn’t stop there. Around the same time a ship
carrying a large cargo load full of beeswax crashed in the same area, most
likely the San Francisco Xavier, a Spanish galleon on its way to California.
The two very similar stories have caused debate throughout the years whether or
not it was the same ship that carried the beeswax and the treasure. What
historians do know is that a treasure has never been publicly found, but
thousands of chunks of beeswax have.
As neat as it was to view a chunk of history with my own
eyes, the beeswax was not what I was looking for. I spent another hour searching
the museum with no luck, until I ventured into the basement which contained
local historical artifacts that had been collected throughout the last couple
centuries. In a glass case just left of the stairwell I finally found what I
had come to the museum to see. The rock was somewhat larger than a basketball,
presumably much heavier, and engraved with strange markings. On a notepad I
sketched out a small scale replica of the drawing: a horizontal line,
underneath it an almost perfect equilateral triangle with the number 1632
inside, below the triangle a large W with a cross (crucifix style) on either
side, below that another horizontal line with eight slashes through it, and
then finally the letters D E L at the very bottom.
I had no idea what any of it meant, but the triangle
could clearly represent a mountain. And when most people would probably assume
that 1632 was a year (the exact same year written on the map in The Goonies),
I immediately thought it was a measurement (hopefully a notion that was mine
alone). The rest remained a mystery. What was certain was that the rock was
found somewhere on Neahkahnie Mountain, along with several others with similar
markings, the first discovered around 1890. Unfortunately, few living people
know precisely where the rocks were found, and they were keeping that knowledge
to themselves.
As I stepped back from the case my left foot landed with
a thud, the kind of sound something makes when it is hollow. I was standing on
a one foot square piece of plywood, painted the exact color of the concrete.
Something seemed off. “The Goonies” instantly came to mind, the scene when
they’re in the basement of the restaurant and they find a hidden passageway in
the floor. I quickly looked up the staircase as to make sure nobody was coming,
and then bent down, digging my fingernails between the thin crack that
separated the two materials. After several seconds of prying, the board came
up, and underneath it—nothing! Dirt. But still, the embarrassment of being
caught was well worth the risk of never knowing.
Back upstairs I searched the library for any more
valuable information on the Neahkahnie treasure. Some local collections turned
up little, but just as I was about to leave, a paperback caught the corner of
my eye. It was small and blue, at 25 pages, more of a pamphlet than a book. The
title said it all, Tales of the Neahkahnie Treasure, prepared by the
Nehalem Valley Historical Society Treasure Committee in 1991. A stroke of luck,
my research had already been done for me.
I paid four dollars for the book, left the museum and set
off north for Nehalem Bay State Park. After fighting sweeping headwinds for
nearly thirty miles I reached my destination, set up camp, and headed straight
for the beach. In the distance the mountain didn’t look like much—more
reminiscent of a hill, or a large dome, without a summit point—unlike the high
peaks that traditionally come to mind when one pictures a “mountain.” If the
triangle engraved on the museum rock was indeed a mountain, it’s hard to believe
that this was the one.
That’s it. I thought. That’s the mountain, and
nobody could find a treasure buried in it? Walking toward it, the closer I
got, the more my view changed (literally and figuratively). The hill grew
substantially with every step, growing wider at the base and climbing higher
into the sky. From where I started the mountain appeared so very close, but
after an hour of trudging through the sand I still hadn’t even reached its
base. The cliffs that climbed up the west side, waves crashing into their rock
walls, were ten times taller than originally perceived. As the sun set, causing
a horizon line as red as blood, I stretched my head upwards and decided: yes
indeed, no doubt about it, this is a mountain.
By the time I
made it back to camp it was dark. I hung any open food on the low branch of a
tree (seriously expecting it not to be there in the morning), climbed into my
sleeping bag, and began to read Tales of the Neahkahnie Treasure.
There’s a quote in The Goonies that older brother Bran says about the
treasure: Everybody and their grandfather went looking for that. As my
fingers flipped through the pages of the book, I quickly realized that the same
held true for the Neahkahnie Treasure; and as for Chester Copperpot-- the
fictional treasure hunter who dedicated his life searching for the Goonies’
riches-- there were plenty of real-life characters that lived life with similar
aspirations. Enthusiasts used every means possible to try and crack the
mystery. They came up with complex mathematical formulas and used advanced
technology such as long range metal detectors and excavating equipment. They
relied on dreams and even sought advice from psychics. Some even believed that
the treasure was of biblical importance, containing ancient scrolls written by
Moses (Yes, the guy who parted the Red Sea). Jobs, homes, and fortunes have
been sacrificed in pursuit of the dream. In 1931 two men were even killed when
their tunnel collapsed in on them. The hunt has been going on for so long, and
so many cavities have been dug throughout Neahkahnie Mountain that people now
refer to it as the “mountain of a thousand holes.”
I fell asleep with treasure on my mind and woke to the
sound of something tearing through the saddlebags on my bike. I crawled out of
my tent and was face to face with three of the fattest raccoons that the world
has ever seen. For the next forty five minutes we played a game where I would
throw dirt at them, they would flee, and then minutes later scurry back toward
the bag. Upon realizing that they were relentless and would never give up, I
eventually removed all the food from my bags and threw it a good distance from
the tent. In the morning I was astonished to find that the food that hung in
the tree was hanging there still. How they knew that there was factory sealed
food in my bags still remains a mystery.
To be continued...
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