

The Manitoba “*”
My best guess is the * is a ❄️ Maybe a warning of some kind?
A Secret 13th Hunt?
Does the main poem hint at this? If you’ve run out of things to try to wrap your mind around. Any thoughts?
Back on track
Was feeling poorly lately but it’s full speed ahead again for the next few months. Saddle up cause it’s gonna be a fun ride.
Happy Reaping Day
May the odds be ever in your favor.
Saskatchewan Hunt: X
Officially calling this one quits. I thought I was onto something when I found a clue suggesting 234 Reflected. When I went to check out what I thought would be a viable spot, that matched the “clue” I encountered some strange markings that I interpreted as arrows. Arrows pointed almost directly to the split rock, and the swamp made a natural backstop. Split rock had two perfect spots to hide a small box. Conclusion: I’m either completely wrong, someone has the box already, or the arrows/pointer was misdirection.
Wouldn’t it be cool…
Everybody that’s ever played video games growing up knows that all the best ones have an Easter Egg…
Possible clue?
Just something I noticed. Probably didn’t need the giant red arrow.
Tenzing
I’m hoping I’ll get a Tenzing sponsorship after this is all done. Probably not but you gotta have a dream.
Be prepared for anything
When you go adventuring make sure you take a dry bunny hug and drink plenty of liquids in this heat.
Sask: spinning leaf?
Did anyone notice any irregularities when the leaf spins?
Temu Stanzas
The clues you seek are hidden deep Look through the fog and past the heap Stop not at nine or there you’ll dwell The hidden tenth has more to tell
The words before were but a jest A fool’s gold path, a hollow quest Yet those who leave without a glance May miss the truth concealed by chance
This quest is fun so please stop griping Quit the counting, quit the typing No hidden code, no secret spell Unless you found this line as well
The more I write the worse it gets You chase the words and place your bets No map is drawn within this verse Please don’t decode this final curse
Five stanzas here, for you to ponder Raise your eyes, look over yonder I better stop writing because I’m done My burger’s ready, on a plain white bun
Downvotes are welcome, they make me smirk When people groan, “oh, what a jerk” The trail was fake, the signs were wrong Yet somehow you still, read this song
Sharp or Clairvoyant?
Saskatchewan is ridiculous to try to solve.
If I was a prospector…
I would have checked out those red seams, but I’m not, so I didn’t.
The Ballad of the Spud
A tater’s a wonderful thing All dirty and covered with eyes Clean it up and slice it And soon you’ll have French fries
The French will drench them in gravy And add a portion of curds Let it all blend together And poutine needs no words
To the Irish they were gold The food that gave them life But when the troubles started They faced famine, loss, and strife
They crossed the seas to Canada In search of kinder days And brought their love of taters In a hundred different ways
There’s purple, white, and yellow For barter, sale or trade The humble little tuber Has earned the price it’s paid
In gardens, fields, and furrows From springtime into fall The humble little tater Still answers nature’s call
They gave me arms and spectacles A smile both wide and grand But underneath I’m still a spud Raised from the prairie land
With eyes upon my face now And shoes upon my feet I’ve traveled far through history To land beside your meat
I’ve worn a hundred faces And hats of every grade Yet underneath the plastic parts I’m just a tater, friend