Lore #1: The Washburn Girl
Location #1: The Kumeyaay
CP: Where-When #1
Legend #1: Esteban Ravelo
CP: Burden-to-Bring #1
Lore #2: The Phantom Bells
Location #2: Lottery Numbers
CP: Where-When #2
Legend #2: Rosa Maria Leon
CP: Burden-to-Bring #2
Lore #3: The Ghost Ship
Location #3: About Gold
CP: Where-When #3
Legend #3: Ignacio Souza
CP: Burden-to-Bring #3
Trials 4 - 6
Lore #4: The Bast Curse
Location #4: Extended Family (Feral Cats)
CP: Where-When #4
Legend #4: Jorge Ravelo
CP: Burden-to-Bring #4
Lore #5: Apacheland Movie Ranch
Location #5: Jacob Waltz
CP: Where-When #5
Legend #5: David Ravello
CP: Burden-to-Bring #5
Lore #6: An Orderly Hanging
Location #6: George Hunt
CP: Where-When #6
Legend #6: Penelope Ravelo
CP: Burden-to-Bring #6
Lore #7: Getting in Touch
Location #7: Send Help
CP: Where-When #7
Legend #7: Doris Ravelo
CP: Burden-to-Bring #7
Lore #8: The OK Corral
Location #8: This Room is Haunted
CP: Where-When #8
Legend #8: Daniel Ravelo
CP: Burden-to-Bring #8
Lore #9: Billy the Kid
Location #9: Silver!
CP: Where-When #9
Legend #9: Maurice Arroyo
CP: Burden-to-Bring #9
Trials 10-13 |
Lore #10: Prettiest Cowboy
Location #10: Branding Cattle
CP: Where-When #10
Legend #10: Christopher Freemont
CP: Burden-to-Bring #10
Lore #11: Party Girls at the Driskill
Location #11: Remember the Alamo
CP: Where-When #11
Legend #11: Oliver Souza
CP: Burden-to-Bring #11
Lore #12: La Llorona
Location #12: Visit the Departed
CP: Where-When #12
Legend #12: Anne Ravelo
CP: Burden-to-Bring #12
Lore #13: Jean LaFitte
Location #13: Have a Drink
CP: Where-When #13
Legend #13: Victor Garcia
CP: Burden-to-Bring #13
Putting It All Together |
Where-When - Burden-to-Bring
Game A - Game B - Game C - Game D - Game E - Game F - Game G - Game H - Game I - Game J
November 19, 2006
From: Dr. Anna Ravelo; Ocotillo, CA
To: Dr. Taylor Garcia; San Diego, CA
Re: The Washburn Girl
Dear Darling Taylor,
Did you know that you were named after the street in Old Town where your parents first met each other? It's still such a lovely street and is the entrance to Old Town, birthplace of California and also the Ravelo family. I know that you of everyone in our family appreciates the connection between person and place, and that's why I'm trusting you to lead this journey.
Please try to get everyone - the Ravelos, the Garcias, the Souzas, the Fremonts / Williams - to understand these old stories that illuminate how I came to be the person I was and am and how I acquired the treasure in St. Augustine, FL that everyone wants. Here is one story about something that touched me when I was a very young lady, still living with your Great Grandparents. You and your relatives should call for more information when you understand.
A little girl that I used to babysit died in a terrible accident while she was playing in an old house near Taylor Street with some other Anglo kids. Legend has it that the house was built over an old cemetery, so the ghosts from there or the nearby gallows must have caused the accident. That little Washburn girl visited me in my dreams my whole life and still haunts the old house to this very day. A friend of mine told me that the little girl's ghost left this cryptic message on the wall in chaulk: KFG QKW JPL JGB HEK PQL QHR BPQ KOB U. Strange indeed, but I like imagining her playing with some leftover chalk and practicing her letters and being overcomed by laughter.
All My Love,
It's a simple subsitution. The trickiest part is realizing that the most frequent letter isn't an 'E'.
The answer, with better spacing, is Old Town San Diego Historic
So, our quest is to go to Old Town San Diego Historic and do....something. Not exactly sure what, so while we are figuring that out, let's look a little closer at the Kumeyaay. The Kumeyaay are a Native American group that live primarily in the southern California and Baja California region. There is a small blurb about them in the brochure for Old Town San Diego so it's possible that whatever we have to do there involves the Kumeyaay.Well done family! Now go there and consider who else died in the area. Humans, animals, and plants now unfamiliar to us once flourished and perished in that area which is surely host to ghost stories older than our family. Though the Washburns were not the first to see tragedy along the river, their kind have left the most visible traces around the old graveyard.
As I've already mentioned, our darling Taylor Garcia was named after a nearby street. Shortly after Taylor was born, I strolled through that area where my former charge used to play with her most affluent and unfortunate friend, grieving her playmate's untimely death while at the same time celebrating the birth of my beautiful and healthy niece and her parents' love. Out of respect for Gaia's mystery and awesomeness, I paused to consider all the other ghosts - big and small - that might dwell alongside the Washburn girl.
NB: The easiest way to complete this trial is to visit (or have a trusted family member visit) the location referred to in the solution to the Lore Trial about the Washburn Girl.
Right now, it's way too early to figure out what we're supposed to do with this. Are we going to have to piece together the entire family tree and figure out what all the red question marks are? Is there something else going on? It'll be interesting to find out what the next piece will bring.
The original link to this picture is: http://www.lawngamesforlife.com/Challenge_Pieces/WhereWhen/1/ww_01.jpg
The username is the family name of your choice: souza / ravelo / garcia / williams
The password is: fud330
If you look closely at the postcard, you'll notice that the windows are somewhat outlined in black marker. §It all started with my lovable father. At least, I can't manage to trace the history of the heirloom back any further. My dad moved to the U.S. as soon as he was old enough to carry his bodyweight for half a mile without pause. He was a tough (and handsom!) man, and he worked hard to make sure that all of us Ravelo kids always had plenty to eat, nice clothes to wear, books to read, and toys to play with. Papa was actually the first in his family to terminate his education after learning basic arithmetic so we had a the luxury of a financial margin or error thanks to various inheritances.
I used to think that Papa was just oo smart for school because he seemed to know everything (except complicated mathematics!). He died in 1957 which seems so long ago now. By then he'd long since abandoned the profession that brought him from Mexico to the U.S. in favor of more suitable employment for a family man. Still, he remained close friends with many of the guys with whom he first came to California, even after everyone went their seperate. He'd put pen to paper and drop his friends living on the other side of the country and even sometimes the world a line. I used to want to pretend to be one of Papa's pen pals so that I could see what he wrote about me when I wasn't looking.
I found this old postcard in some of the boxes from the old house that I've never gone through (they're just such a mess and I get so distracted by all the little photos and such). It must be from a pal that he met over the years. It also must be one of the last postcards that he received as he fell ill shortly after receiving this postcard. Postcard
The markings are classic Pig Pen symbols.
However, using the method on Simon Singh's site and/or Thinkquest's site nets you nothing but garbage letters.
The GCGC shows the path on how to letter each block to set up the correct pigpen cipher.
Using this setup, we can now find the correct answer of: VAQUERO
Our first Burden-to-Bring piece looks to be a Christmas card.
When Jorge, David, and I were little
kids, we used to play with a little
Spanish girl with nice but secretive
parents. I’ve forgotten her name, but
she was full of joy and mystery. For a
few years she was like one of the
Ravelos, as she herself had no
brothers or sisters.
From time to time, our friend would
show up near the water where we played
together, singing silly songs and
telling us about the bells she’d heard
the previous night. Well, she lived
right across the street from us and
we’d never heard any bells except on
Sunday morning, so I imagined that she
was simply recounting and embellishing
a fantastic dream.
One afternoon, on our way to the
beach, our friend went on and on more
than usual about the bells and how her
grandfather had heard the same bells
before he disappeared. She was just
like her grandfather and wasn’t that
wonderful!? She couldn’t understand
why her parents were so concerned that
she would be like her grandfather when
they always talked about what a good,
honorable man he’d been. The bells’
music had become so magical and
captivating that my friend – barely 5
years old – began talking about
leaving home to follow them.
Jealous of my friend’s songful dreams
and nervous about her independent
spirit, I pretended that my stomach
hurt and rushed home to tell my mama.
Mama’s eyes darkened, and she warned
me that I must not let my friend
follow the imaginary bells. Her
grandfather was indeed a good,
honorable man, but he’d never returned
after he set out to follow those
imaginary bells. Mama couldn’t believe
that hearing and being mesmerized by
imaginary phantom bells could be a
family trait. She definitely didn’t
want to see disappearance become their
Later that evening, Jorge and David
returned home from the beach,
laughing. They’d told some made up
story to our friend about a crooked
priest who’d buried his thefts deep in
the ground and who’d later protected
those with a dead body and his own
ghost. My brothers rolled over in
girlish giggles as they recounted the
perplexed and serious look on my
friend’s face when they told her that
the bells she was hearing could guide
her to the treasure.
My mother sent both Jorge and David to
their room without supper that night.
When my father got home, he had a long
conversation with the boys about how
they must not encourage superstition
and they must look out for the safety
of our little friend as they would
their little sisters’. What if our
little friend tried to chase down
those bells in pursuit of the money
and got lost, injured, kidnapped by
bandits, or killed?!
That night there was a full moon – I
remember because it was bright like
daylight in my room and I didn’t sleep
a wink. I listened intently for tolls
of bells. Nothing. I closed my eyes,
willing myself to have fantastic
dreams, but I couldn’t even fall
asleep let alone dream. Instead, I lay
there all night long, thinking about
my friend in her little house across
the street. Her grandfather was gone,
she had no brothers or sisters, and
I’d recently overheard whisperings
from my parents about my friend’s
mother’s illness and the expensive
medicine that the family needed. My
mama was trying to get the neighbors
to pool together the money for her. I
no longer felt jealous of my friend’s
dreams – she had such a hard time in
her waking life that she deserved to
hear those magical bells in her
Two full days passed without a visit
from our little friend. On the third
day, Jorge and I walked across the
street and knocked on her door. Her
father peaked out from behind the door
and began sobbing when he saw us. I
felt a chill pass me as he opened the
door further. His daughter had
disappeared three nights ago just as
his father had years ago, during a
full moon and after an evening of
excited and cryptic talk about bells.
A shovel was missing – had his daughter
dug her own grave? His wife was so
wrought by their daughter’s
disappearance that she, already weak
with disease, died just last night.
My friend’s papa fell to the floor in
a pile and painfully held my hand. A
white light flooded the house and he
stopped crying. He stood up, dusted
his slacks, and asked Jorge if he knew
when would be the next full moon.
Years later, during high school, I was
asked to tell and retell this story
after my friend’s father killed
himself during a full moon. He’d left
a note to all neighbors, warning us
that his family and his house were
cursed. Though he himself had been
spared from the bells’ enchantment, he
had not escaped their reach. His
daughter would not be the last person
to follow their elusive sound to doom.
She and his father now drifted along
the border of life and death,
understanding the mysteries of both
but experiencing neither.
I wonder now if my story is verbose or
one-sided. Do I tell it only from the
perspective of the living? What might
it look like in between that and
death? Where can I poke holes?
Where do I need to cover things up?
Can I understand it in a different way
as an adult than I did as a child or a
teenager? I’d like to reshape my
words in new but familiar ways. My
friend’s death – and the ways I have
told about it – must symbolize
something else when I look at one on
top of the other.
Did that little girl actually hear
bells? Is it possible to be so
enchanted by an instrument? I wonder
if that little girl was maybe just a
nature lover. I like to imagine her
following the sounds of birds,
migrating a little further under the
light of the full moon. Maybe she
joined her grandfather in the arms of
While at first glance the handwritten pages appear to be the same as the printed story, a closer look reveals that there are a lot of words missing from the handwritten version. In fact, so much is missing that if you just read the handwritten pages, you would have no idea what the story was about. So how does this fit in with the clue Aunt Anna gave us? We must find a way to look at these one on top of the other. §I wonder now if my story is verbose or one-sided. Do I tell it only from the perspective of the living? What might it look like in between that and death? Where can I poke holes? Where do I need to cover things up? Can I understand it in a different way as an adult than I did as a child or a teenager? I’d like to reshape my words in new but familiar ways. My friend’s death – and the ways I have told about it – must symbolize something else when I look at one on top of the other.
So that's two Lore's down, and it seems like we know where we're going for our next location trial.In other words, we need to take the original printed text, and find out where the words from the handwritten notes fall. If you don't feel like printing out the original text, open up Word (making sure you keep the same font!) and select the highlighting tool. Now, highlight the words (or bits of words) that appear in the handwritten notes. You'll soon discover that each paragraph contains one letter.
If you're still confused by all of that, Rogi was nice enough to take a screenshot of his work for you to check out.
The letters you get when all the words are highlighted are: F A M O S A S L O U G H
Sadly, I did not live long enough in California to realize that this wasn't an anagram of 'Famous Galosh,' but was in fact Famosa Slough, a wetland area in San Diego.
The area where the Slough is now was a lot different when I was a little girl. Only in the last several years did it become one of my favorite places in San Diego.
One day I was walking down to the beach when a bird down in the slough caught my eye. I turned off of PL and walked down the street to investigate. That little bird was staring me down! I swear that he was performing some sort of ancient hypnosis on me. Afterall, I ended up playing the lottery that day! That remains the only time I've ever played the lottery.
Now, once this bird stopped giving me the evil eye, he turned to some feeders on a balcony of a nearby apartment building. His gaze was the visual incarnation of what my ears were doing - cueing in to the windchimes on the same balcony that were bing bing binging viloently due to the high hurricane wind.
I noticed a column of 6 numbers, 2 of one number, 2 of a second number, and 2 of a third number. My first thought was "Papa hated numbers" and my second thought was "Anna, play the lottery today." I played one each of each of the three numbers. And I won a few hundred dollars!
I wish that I could remember those lucky numbers. If you by chance stumble across them, be sure togive them to Taylor. Lord knows that that girl needs luck.
Thankfully, Anna clues us into the fact that each syllable is what is important here, because otherwise I'm not sure how long it would have taken us to figure out. §My mother was so beautiful - you would have really loved her, Taylor. She reigned as a local Mexican beauty queen from the 1930's through the 1940's (I always thought it was so funny that San Diego celebrated her beauty as a Mexican since her more unique features were surely the product of our Indian heritage).
But your great grandmother was not only a person of beauty - resourceful, assertive, matriarchal, and intelligent, she was a lot like her grandfather's tribeswomen.
I have written one poem in my life and it was inspired by mother's death and buried with her at the funeral. Looking over the words now, I am thankful to have not pursued the life of a poet, but I would like to share the verses with you. Each syllable is imbued with relevance to the secrets behind my mother's ways.
My Great Grandfather, the Infamous Chiricauan
By Anna Ravelo
Dedicated to mother (1892-1953)
We are related to
A famous Chiricauan.
Though I never met him,
Rosa Maria Leon -
Or, “our mother” -
Heard and told many tales.
Also known as her mother’s father,
Had loved wife and baby
Even though they were
He believed in Earth’s people.
And he vowed to honor
My grandmother and mother always.
Even though he never met
Or saw grandma again,
They both swore they could feel him here and
There when they were lonely, like
Anglos, Indians, Latins
We need to count the number of syllables on each line. However, there are a few special rules you need to follow. If the line contains a single letter, make a note of the letter, but don't count it as one syllable. If the line contains a --, you count that as 0 syllables.
Now, write down your results, grouping two lines together as you go.
For example: The first line (Sisters! Brothers!) has 4 syllables. The next line is just a D, so the first two lines gives us 4D. The third line is 6 syllables while the fourth line is just F, giving us 6F.
When you work through the whole poem, you should have the following string: 4D 6F 75 6E 74 61 69 6E 20 53 70 69 72 69 74 73 21 21
Doesn't look like much, but there is one more step we have to take. These are hexidecimal numbers, and if you run them through a hex translator, you'll see that they do make sense: Mountain Spirits!!
Not only that, it appears that the postcard has an additional sort of puzzle for us to solve. If we find the answer, we can share it or keep it a secret. But since I'm a nice person (try not to laugh too hard), we'll share the answer once it's known. §Location: http://www.lawngamesforlife.com/Challenge_Pieces/Bring/Souza/2/02.jpg
"We Have it Rich!"
Old-timers Spriggs, Lamb, and Dillon are shown here panning for gold in Rockerville, Dakota Territory. The Black Hills area was a major hub of western mining. Boom towns appeared overnight where gold dust was the medium of exchange for purchases made or drinks ordered.
Photographed in 1889 by John C.H. Grabill
Did you know that the Wiliams family moved west from Chicago? I wonder if Jen & Rob chose their daughter's name a[s] much for the Williams' old street was for the one in Old Town. When you figure it out, tell the rest of the family (unless you think it's a fun secret!)
17515 Spring Cypress Rd
Suite C #264
Cypress, Tx 77429
Since it appears that the overlays match up on the edges, I've started a combined version of the pictures to see what appears.Location: http://www.lawngamesforlife.com/Challenge_Pieces/Bring/Garcia/2/02.jpg
This puzzle is mostly a puzzle of misdirection. While you would think that what we were looking for would be hidden inside of the picture of the ghost ship, it's not. §Most of our family are from Spain by way of Mexico. Sometimes it's a little embarrassing how much damage our "people" did to these areas' native peoples and ecosystems. The areas that remain formidable, though (and which consequently have fascinated me more than any other throughout my career) are the desert regions.
There is one old desert story that my good friend and Oliver's father, Ignacio Souza, used to tell that I loved for its poignant combination of themes: conquest, our living planet, and of course ghosts.
This old Spanish explorer was so greedy that, after conning some very hospitable Indians out of their fancy pearls and learning their secrets for capturing the special mollusks, ordered his crew to postpone their return trip back to Spain where all their families lived. Instead, they toured the waters of the Gulf of Mexico and Baja, harvesting pearls.
Obviously, this all occurred centuries ago. Back then, according to a geologist friend of mine, the Colorado River was a lot further west than it is now (something about the earth's plates, the San Andreas fault, a major earthquake, etc. is how he explains the eastward shift of the riverbed, but I think it was Gaia's punishment for conning the Indian and mistreating the mollusks).
Regardless of the logical attempts to explain what happened, what happened next in Ignacio's story is that the Spanish ship eventually found its way up further and further inland, delighting in their earthly plunder. Their luck ended, however, when the were suddenly trapped in an inland sea that was quickly drying out and converting to desert. The sailors and explorers perished in the desert, still on board their landlocked ship and vanquished by the desert heat, cold, and drought. Greedy to the end, even when they could have sailed away in death, they remain in the desert, protecting their treasures.
To this day, adventurous desert hikers report sightings of the elusive Spanish treasure ship. A few months before he died, Ignacio claimed that he'd actually boarded the ship during one of his desert treks. But he left the treasure there, he said, because he knew I'd be upset to have those pearls - those mollusk's ghosts - in my surroundings.
I know this is a little off-topic, Taylor, but I really miss Ignacio. He was one of the people who helped me best utilize the "fountain of truth." Well, by now since this Trial has been released, I am with him. I am sure that you miss me (at least you'd better!), but I'm very thankful to be with Ignacio again.
The Mesquite Mine is one of the largest gold mines in California and is located off California Highway 78, near Glamis. It seems a good bet that this will be where our next Location Trial takes place.Instead, you have to look at the source of the page to see that there is not one, but two pictures linked. The second one is called spacer.jpg and it is not your standard small black picture file. Instead, it is mostly the same picture as the ghost ship, but this time there are very distinct letters shown. If you flip the picture around in your favorite photo editing software, you can easily make out: Mesquite Mine CA78
When I was an adjunct at UCSD, I would sometimes take long drives out on CA-78 to think about grant applications, new research topics and syllabi. This particular destination was one of my favorites because it was so QUIET here where is had been so NOT quiet when it was an active mine. These days, though, the area is overrun with ATVs and the trail has been closed down. One thing I regret is never taking the time to learn about the Gold that was found there.
I must have walked by the information kiosk dozens of times, but I was so intent on downplaying the fact that this was a place of spoil since it offered me so much peace. But now I know that gold mining need not be a thing of spoilage. Gold emplyed people, brought people adventure and joy, and is one of Gaia's jewels.
Family - please revisit this contemplative place for me. Photograph the information sheets and send to your photos Taylor via email.
Garcias, photograph the GOLD may save your life page.
Ravelos, photograph the CONQUERING SPACE page.
Williams and Freemonts, photograph the PROVIDING maximum safety page.
Souzas, photograph the PROCESS how gold is produced page.
And go ahead and take a sheet or two while you're there - you might need them later.
Aunt Anna was married! In secret! For 10 years! Our challenge this time around is to figure out what Aunt Anna used to call Ignacio. Although Aunt Anna says that she used to tell Taylor Igancio's nickname in the stories that she used to tell Taylor, I'm willing to bet Taylor doesn't remember them, so it's gonna be up to use to figure out what it is. §Taylor! I have a confession to make. "Uncle" Ignacio (who was actually something more like a 2nd cousin twice removed, by marriage to you) and I were married for a little over 10 years. I don't know why we were so secretive about it - I suppose we liked the excitement of hiding it from the family. I wanted to quiet all the rumors for so long, especially after Ignacio died, but I was so embarrassed and well - once you've told a lie the longer you wait to correct it, the harder it is.
Ignacio and I met through John who married my darling niece Luisa (your 1st cousin once removed, great Uncle Jorge's little girl). Luisa and I were always very close. When she and her husband settled in Pine Valley, I spent a lot of time visiting them on my way to the Sunset Highway. Shortly after John and Luisa moved to Pine Valley, John's mother passed away, and so he moved his father to California from Tijuana. That was a difficult time for Ignacio - a foreign land and the passing of his spouse.
I took to inviting Ignacio along for my little hikes. Our first kiss happened sort of accidentally while we were laughing at a precocious little bird. Two weeks later, we stole away to City Hall and were married! One of our favorite passtimes was making little wildlife videos during our hikes.
I moved to Ocotillo largely to be closer to Ignacio. When John took over Major's Diner, I helped out a lot with the redecorating and bookkeeping until Madeline was in school full time. It was so exciting to be working shoulder to shoulder with Ignacio, my neice's father-in-law and my secret husband.
We had planned on telling everyone during the summer of 1984 - our 10 year anniversary! But Ignacio fell ill and we never got around to it. Poor dear - biologically, he was only nine and a half years older than me but his body had been worked over by years of hard railyard labor. At least he had a lovely retirement! I wish that he could have lived a little longer, though. We could have posted those little wildlife videos on Youtube - Ignacio would have really liked that.
I really missed Ignacio. After he died, everytime I heard the sounds of a train, my eyes would well up with tears. He had so many wonderful stories about his brief carreer as a conductor and laying track. He could impersonate the sound of a train so well and did so often, do my delight and that of all of the family children - do you remember that? Sometimes at night I would even pick up the phone and dial his telephone number, out of habit. My darling Ignacio!
I had the silliest nickname for him! Taylor, I wanted so much to share my secret with you, but thought it unfair to ask a child to keep a secret. As a compromise with myself, I used to tell you stories about Ignacio, but I disguised them as children's tales. I always referred to him by his nickname. Do you remember that I told you I was in love with the hero in your bedtime stories? It was true! Can you remember the nickname that I used?
Aunt Anna mentions that Ignacio would have been the type of person to put up wildlife videos on Youtube. And what do you know - Aunt Anna has a Youtube account of her own! If you look in the source of the trial page, you can see it: http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=luvsgaia
There are two videos there for us to enjoy. One is of the Superstition Mountains (which sadly gives us no new info over the flash file) and the other is titled Ignacio.
The Ignacio video shows bits of a train ride that Aunt Anna took on the 21st anniversary of Ignacio's death (November 1st). She also writes that it would be nice to die on the same day that he did. I guess she got her wish. As you watch the video, you'll notice that there is some intercut scenes of a boxcar and a railroad crossing. If I had to guess, I would say this is the clue to Ignacio's nickname, but I'm still not quite sure what it means.
So my initial thought that the boxcar and railroad crossing were a clue was wrong. The picture simply is a way to signal where the video is broken up into sections. Okay, so what do we do with the sections? Well, what does anyone do when looking out the window on a long trip - you count things! (By the way, this is a sign that the puzzles will probably be getting harder as there isn't any hint in the flavor text that I can find about counting things. Hearing sounds yes, but not counting.)
So what do we count? Telephone poles! They come at nice regular intervals and are (most of the time) fairly easy to see as they slide past the window. This brings us to the first problem of the puzzle: what exactly are the counts?
If you count the telephone poles that you can actually see, you get 0 (for the really quick blip before the first boxcar slice), 5, 7, 7, 6. Sadly, this is wrong. Can you tell which number is off?
It's the 5 from the second section of the film. You can kinda sense that there might be a 6th telephone pole hidden in the trees right before the house, but I've watched the video several times and only once did I maybe catch the bottom part of a pole, but I couldn't swear it was there. The fact that this puzzle relies on accurate counts means that it should have been obvious that there was a pole there.
Okay, so now that we have an accurate count of 0, 6, 7, 7, 6 - how to proceed? There were numerous hints, both from the flavor text and from various emails, that a phone was involved. Sadly, there isn't enough numbers to call a number and get a clue that way, so it must be something else. This brings us to the second problem of the puzzle, the design problem.
The first number should not be a 0. I'm sorry, it just shouldn't. Even if Aunt Anna had an old rotary telephone that she used exclusively, I'm not sure you could argue that the first number is a 0. Add in the fact that Aunt Anna seems to be fairly literate when it comes to technology, and that argument goes out the window. The first number should really be a 9.
So, with a 'correct' count of 9, 6, 7, 7, 6 and a hint to use a telephone, can you figure out what Ignacio's name is now? I bet you could if you watch Prison Break and you understood Michael's messages to Sarah.
It's a telephone code. Each number cooresponds to one of 3 (or 4) letters on a telephone keypad. The trick is to figure out what they spell. So we have WXYZ - MNO - PQRS - PQRS - MNO. Now, normally I would link to you phonespell.org to input the number and get results, but sadly the dictionary there doesn't know this name, so you're just going to have to do it the hard way and mix and match letters.
The answer is ZORRO.
Now that you know the answer, you can kinda see why 0 was chosen, but anyone who has used a phone in the last 5 years will tell you that the Z is on the 9 key, not the 0, thus introducing a potentially fatal flaw into this puzzle.
If you follow the little cartoon, it seems that if we mail a letter off to Taylor, she might reward us with Loyalty and Strength points. I think. It's kinda open to intrepretation, but the fact that we got Taylor's address with the last Challenge Piece makes me think that mailing her something might not be a bad idea.
So, it seems as if I was partly right. Instead of a letter, we need to mail Taylor some Christmas wrapping paper. I'm sure I have some stashed around the house somewhere.Have you ever participated in a secret santa exchange? I once heard about this *one* exchange where everyone had to send their wrapping paper to a person who then used it prepare gifts for needy children. That's kind of neat!
I wonder if any of the other teams are getting the fun pieces that we are? I'm waiting on adding this to the combined photo as I can't tell exactly where it lines up.Location: http://www.lawngamesforlife.com/Challenge_Pieces/Bring/Garcia/3/03.jpg