Ravenchase Christmas in New Hope

The Enchanted Christmas Village Hunt
In
New Hope, Pa.

In Review by
The "Infamous" Rassilon



Langdon read the message again and looked up at Fache.
"What the hell does this mean?"
Fache's eye shone white. "That, monsieur, is precisely
the question you are here to answer..."

Langdon couldn't tear his eyes from the glowing purple
text scrawled across the parquet floor. Jacques Sauniere's
final communication seemed as unlikely a departing message
as any Langdon could imagine.
The message read:
13-3-2-21-1-1-8-5
O, Draconian devil!
Oh, lame saint!

From: The Da Vinci Code
By Dan Brown

This passage seemed a particular good place to stop, as I marked my place in the novel with a torn slip of newspaper. Looking out the window of the train, my hour and a half journey had ended, as I had arrived in the village of Doylestown, Pa.

According to the map, I was still 11.3 miles away from my final destination of New Hope, Pa. But, regrettably this was the closest any of the local trains would carry me. My last excursion would have to be by taxi to reach the village of New Hope. There, I was to meet a "Draconian Devil" of my own that day, or rather, more precisely, a pair of devils, "New Jersey Devils," who have been know to take on the mortal forms of Robert and Kristine Jenner, the area Hunt Masters for Ravenchase North-East.

Comparably to the fictional, Robert Langdon, of the novel, that day I was going to spend the afternoon in my own real life version of the Da Vinci Code. Racing perhaps not around the city of Paris, or Musee du Louvre, but certainly in the boundaries of the town and noted artist haven, of New Hope, Pa. putting my brain and code breaking skills to the test.

Ravenchase Adventures was also there to see, if by their own Lode Stone, my metal might prove to be Gold, Silver, Bronze, or yet some other baser metal. The true test was to be a hunt for clues in a race entitled, "The Enchanted Christmas Village Hunt."

I had been haunted all week by reports of the uncertainty of the weather. There were forecasts of rain; troubled further by personal visions that this hunt was going to be limited to a three horse race.

I had myself, once again, signed up as a single contestant; having still not found anyone locally, who shares my strange passion for these challenging Games of the Mind.

I knew only for certain that only Team "Dude, Run" comprising of a wonderful husband and wife team Rich and Michelle, along with their code cracking Wonder Daughter, Courtney, were due to arrive that day. There was also the vague rumor that a few members of my old nemesis Team "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess" had signed up as well.

Their team, once again planned to show up in their Pink Flamingo T-shirts. Though in this weather, I had little doubts their trademark shirts would be worn beneath their heavy coats, making them harder to identify along the trail. (or, had this all been apart of their Evil plan all along, I wondered quietly???)

As I arrived in New Hope, the weather that day appeared to be the least of my concerns. After a week of rain, the sky was beautiful; partly sunny, high about forty-three degrees, without the slightest suggestion of rain in the forecast, until the late evening hours. New Hope looked beautiful in the daylight and the streets were alive and bustling with townspeople and tourists alike.

Letting my Taxi go near the center of town, I set my first course towards New Hope's Visitors Center, at the corner of Main and Mechanic Streets, in search of a local maps and brochures of the area.

Having never been to New Hope before, I sought any advantage upon my future competition in the hunt. And maps, as any Adventurer will tell you, are always critical.

At this point in my journey, I allowed my mind and my thoughts to slip into what I refer to as "Catalog Mode" looking at my surroundings, not with the eyes of a clue seeker, but with the imagined eyes of my main adversaries, "The Ravenchase Hunt Masters." I was looking for things that they themselves might easily see as possible places within the town to use in connection with their ciphers, or as hiding places for their clues.

As I stroll up to the Visitor's Center, I took note of its ornate Victorian clock, the historical plaques attached to the side of the building, mentioning that the building had once been the original town hall.

Clues could be everywhere, you see. Even the bricks beneath my feet, inscribed with the names of local contributors to the rebuilding fund, could easily be used as clues. Remembering all too well, that during the Treasure Hunter's Lexington, Virginia hunt, bricks such as these were used by Ravenchase to devise a devilishly clever code.

Pushing these thoughts aside, I open the door of the Visitor's Center and was almost immediately greeted by a very good-humored woman named, Stephanie. Stephanie's eyes caught hold of my famous Indiana Jones Bag, with its Ravenchase markings, and asked if I was apart of the hunt, or one of the hunters?

"Hunter," I replied, thinking to myself, that either Ravenchase had laid the ground work in the town very well, or that it was really true in what they say... "There are never any secrets in a small town… At least not for long..."

Pleasantly, I asked Stephanie for her aid in selecting a few local maps. Ones I had read about during my internet studies of the town. A few minutes later, I left with three new maps tucked in my bag, intent only on continuing my tour of the town.

As I reentered the courtyard of the Visitors Center, I noticed a sort of iron trellis standing behind an ornate tiled bench. Something about its simple symmetry pleased my eye and reminded me that in my bag, I had brought along my new digital camera to take pictures of the event today.

The trellis seemed a perfect opportunity to test the new camera's capabilities before the beginning of the race. Knowing full well once the race begins, most people forget they even possess a camera, much less take the time, or trouble, to snap pictures between clues and code solving.

Backing up about ten feet, I framed and took my first shot. Seeing that there was a brass plate describing its history attached to the Trellis, I approached it and set up for a close-up of the plaque. And that's when it happen... the universe around me changed.

The very air around me filled with the dulcid tones of an angel. A woman's voice. Speaking softly to me and to me alone. The voice gently cooed out two simple words, but two words were enough. "Hello, Rassilon, " the voice said.

Everything I was thinking and everything I was doing was forgotten. I looked up and saw a vision in feminine form standing alone upon the top step, about to enter the Visitor's Center. A flaxen-haired beauty, wearing a soft knitted woolen cap and a light blue down jacket; the color of which, only seemed to set off the already iridescent color of her own blue eyes.

These were eyes that any man could readily find himself getting lost in. Her lips, bemused, softly parted, possessed a smile that spoke volumes by themselves, and yet still seemingly guarded a far greater secret behind them. It was a gentle warm smile; one that only Da Vinci him self could have painted in that moment.

Though her hands remained in her pockets, guarded against the cold, the arch of her back and the slight natural twisting of her hips, as she stood there waiting; gave her body an impish, coquettish look, as she examined me patiently, almost playfully across her right shoulder.

Her glance was both inviting and enigmatic in it nature. As though her eyes and her smile both challenged me to remember just where, and when, we had last met. If indeed we had ever met before at all.

Did she truly know me??? Or, had I been identified yet again by my satchel alone? It was a madding dilemma in its nature for me. With the right words, I might be elevated in her estimation. But, with the wrong words, I could fall. I stood on the edge of a precipice with this beautiful woman. She was enchanting, and I was the enchanted.

Women have often spoken freely of the power that Men have over their hearts, but as any "Honest" man will confess, our strength of Will, Masculine charm and Viral weapons are but Straw, against the simple power of a woman's eyes, and the enigmatic charm of her smile.

Something about them defeats us utterly. And in this moment, despite being a man of professed intelligence, words and letters, capable of quoting Shakespeare and great poets alike, my mind emptied itself and I felt like a bumbling fool before this woman.

There were a thousand words I wanted to say to this vision of beauty. And since that moment, a hundred thousand more have sprung to life. But, in that single splintered fragment of time, I lost all reason. The best I could untangled from my tongue was to simply say, "Hello, to you as well."

The woman smiled, and almost laughed at me, as she turned and opened the door of the Visitor's Center. And then she was gone.

Thirty seconds later, my brain-stems miraculously, reattached themselves to my spinal column and I was able to think clearly again. I pondered briefly the idea of dropping everything and following the women into the Visitor's Center and asking her to Marry me. But, upon reflection, I thought that even in today's society, this might appear exceedingly forward of me.

Instead, I simply sighed heavily from my heart and walked on. Carrying with me the haunting beauty of her eyes, and the future hope that fate would again offer another chance encounter. If only long enough for me to learn her name.

Checking my watch, I have roughly under an hour before the hunt was to begin. I still had plenty of time to wander about at will.

The Race Begins
(Or, a sweet beginning...)

An hour later with my book again in hand, I was seated on a park bench at the end of Ferry Street, admiring both the river view and the flight of large ravens soaring over my head. I took their presence as a good omen for the race. This exact starter location was disclosed two days earlier in a clue, hidden beneath the lyrics of the Yule time song, "The Twelve Days of Christmas."

I was still uncertain how many people were set to attend, as I was apparently the first to arrive at the starting point. In my travels about the town, I had run into only the "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess Team," near the Eiffel Tower.

Yes, surprisingly enough, New Hope may not be a suburb of Paris, the City of Lights, but it does possess its own Eiffel Tower. Albeit only in miniature. It stands outside of the Cest La Vie Cafe, just off of Main Street. After my earlier thoughts about the differences between the Dan Brown Novel and this race, I was fast discovering amusing similarities to the book like this copy of the Eiffel Tower. But the similarities would not end just here.

I had found the HFMP Team gathered just outside the French cafe, on their way to stock up on hot chocolate and coffee before the race. Among them was my fair haired enchantress in blue from the Visitors Center. One major mystery of my day was at least partially solved, though I still had not discovered her name.

Tucking my novel back into my bag, as the appointed hour drew near. One by one, the contestants began appeared on the scene. They would keep coming, until, by a later head count, a total of fifty-six people showed up. Including reporters from the local New Hope Gazette, to cover the event. The fifty-six would eventually break down into nineteen separate teams. I was impressed by the gathering on such a crisp cold day.

Up until now, the Philadelphia branch of Ravenchase has had a very poor showing for these events. Disappointing for the fifth-largest city in the United States. I suppose in future, I should be careful for what I wish for. I now had more than enough teams on my hands to try and beat that day.

Robert and Kristine Jenner arrived at our staging arena wearing a Santa Claus Hat and carrying the famous Ravenchase Treasure Chest, containing all our clues for that day. The signing of wavers, as you might expect, took longer than usual. During this process I was introduced, by Kristine Jenner, to a charming blonde haired woman and asked a special favor. As a noted veteran of the game, I was asked if I would be kind enough to take on a partner for today's hunt.

Her name was, Marilyn Bullock, an enterprising woman who owns and operates Bullock Marketing & Design, in New Hope. Apparently, the two friends that were to run the race with her had mysteriously vanished on her, leaving her high and dry and in want of a partner.

My mind harkened back to the novel I had been reading, and yet another parallel appeared. Like the hero of the novel, Robert Langdon, I was to be gifted with a mysterious ally. Marilyn was to be my own, Princess Sophie, for the day. An invaluable woman, as I was to discover, during the course of the day.

In her nervousness, Marilyn confessed to me that even though she was a Web Designer by trade and knew HTML code both backwards and forwards, she had never cracked a cipher in her life. The daily crossword puzzle was about the height of her abilities. She was there that day to check out the race and Ravenchase Adventures, for a possible fund raiser next spring for New Hope.

Marilyn had read about the success of the fund raising event Ravenchase created for "Quest for the Ring Hunt" with the Indianapolis Colts. It was her hope that the same sort of fund raiser could be, just the ticket, to inspire interest and a large turn out in New Hope. I promised her that Ravenchase Adventures could provide the ride of her life.

After a brief explanation of the rules by Robert Jenner, his wife, Kristine, opened the Ravenchase Treasure Chest and handed out our first puzzle of the day. The Puzzle came in the form of two candy canes and a long strip of paper with symbols on it. None of us would be given our official clue scrolls, until we had solved the puzzle and whispered the secret "Password" into her ear.

Marilyn's face dropped, as she looked at the puzzle, but I chuckled and winked assuringly at her. Even though I had never encountered one before, I recognized what the puzzle was.

It was a Scytale ( skee-ta-lee) I explained to her, that this was perhaps one of the oldest form of passing codes on the face of the planet. Dating back to the 7th century B.C., history records that the Greeks, Romans, and even the Spartans, used this method to pass along their important secrets.

Marilyn watched, as I carefully wound the strip of paper with it strange marking around one the candy canes. Almost magically the strange markings began to align. Marilyn's eyes brighten as the words "The password is Edgar Allen Poe" appeared before her. We were the first to solve the puzzle and the first to receive our clue scrolls for the day. I knew the ravens soaring over our heads would be a good omen.

Grabbing our clue scrolls, which Kristine Jenner had wrapped up like a Christmas Cracker, we headed off for a more secluded spot to carefully unwrapped them and see what we had been presented with. I saved everything including the Christmas wrapping in case another yet clue was hidden in the tissue itself.

The Clue #1 was a bit of a stumper. Images of Snowflakes and several lines of code. Instinctually, I felt I should know this code; but something about it was out of kilter. That something banged away at the back of my mind, but the thought prove elusive. My partner, Marilyn, saw the worry in my face, and so I turned to the second clue. Within the first two lines of the poem, we both know were we were to go. Marilyn, and I had to catch a train, Fast!

I mention in the beginning of this report that New Hope had no train service. This is both true and false. While there was no local train service to New Hope; the town of New Hope does actually possess a train. A rather famous one in fact. In the winter time The New Hope & Ivyland Railroad runs the "North Pole Express."

Running on a closed circuit of track, the train leaves the station house three times daily, taking passengers on a forty-five minute excursion around the surrounding country side. Our clue had only four blank squares to fill in and it was apparent from the clue what we require were numbers from one particular section of this train. Anyone, that ever owned a Lionel Train set as a child, knows that every section of a train has its own individual number.

Marilyn's value to me now came to light. She was far better than any of the three maps I had stowed away in my bag. Marilyn, being a resident of the town, was both my living map and my native guide rolled into one. We hurried off in search of the train station, keeping a sharp eye out for other teams, which seemed now to be everywhere and on every street corner.

As we reached the train station, my cell phone rang and a text message came in from Ravenchase. It announced, that the Express would be departing the station at 1:00 , 2:00 and 3:00 Pm. Checking my watch it was 1:15 Pm. We had missed the train and the station train tracks stood empty before us. It could be over half an hour before the train's return.

Not wishing to be defeated so easily, Marilyn and I looked around and decided to enter the Station House's gift shop. All in hopes of finding photographs of the train on display, where we might be able to steal numbers we needed to complete this task.

Don't ask me how, but there were three other teams inside the building. already hard at work. All of them were standing with sharpen pencils posed, mesmerized by images on a small television set in the back of the store. The video playing was a commemorative tape of the famous train. Marilyn wanted to join them, but I had a better idea.

Standing off in another corner were two of the Train's Station Masters. Who better to know all the secrets of the Santa Express, I thought. And after a quiet whispered word to both these men, Marilyn eyes lit up with admiration, as we quietly slipped from the building with the very numbers we needed. All as the other teams were still posed around the television set, unaware of our progress .

While I pondered Weak and Weary...

I would like to say that I was totally brilliant like this all that day, but I did have my moments of blundering stupidity as well. The next clue, Clue Number #3 - Part One, was an example of one of these less than brilliant moments.

After leaving the Train Station, Marilyn and I open our clue map and compared it to clue number three. The clue spoke of a golden Magician, Salvador Dali, Pallas (the Greek goddess of wisdom) and dogs with unfurled wings. Art, seemed the only golden thread that bound all these words together. Robert Jenner's map was profusely illustrated with art work of his own, and one of the images bore the title, Gallery Piquel.

Here I shall mention to all "would-be-adventures" everywhere, that while holding a map correctly, can elevate you in this game; holding the map the wrong way, can also send you down the proverbial garden path in wrong direction.

At that particular moment in history, the way I was holding the map, later proved to be "sideways." This simple mistake, made me think the Gallery we were searching for, was located just behind the Train Station, not below it.

It was an understandable mistake to make, considering that what was behind the Train station was the renowned, Mitchner Art Museum. I had assumed that the Piquel Gallery was either a wing, or an exhibit, within the museum itself.

I will not dwell for long on the events that transpired at the Art Museum, other than to say that the Guards and the Hostess of the Mitchner Museum, were not only "very" amused by our probing questions, but also very "intrigue" by the whole concept of the hunt.

They especially "delighted" in my recitation of the poem, as I read it aloud to them for their entertainment and enlightenment, but not one of them had heard of, The Gallery Piquel. It was Marilyn, my own Princess Sophie, who came to my rescue and set us back on the right track.

The wonderful thing about living in a small town is, everyone knows everyone, or at least someone that "does" know everyone. One phone call from Marilyn to a friend, and we were on the right path again. The Gallery Piquel, was a relatively new addition to New Hope located down on North Main Street. We were off, and on the scent of our quarry again.

Sadly, the minutes we has won at railroad station, were now lost due to my side trip to the Mitchner. When we arrived at the Gallery Piquel, the place was packed with other teams all trying to fathom the mystery that lay inside.

Another parallel to The Da Vinci Code again presented itself at this location. It was not the Musee du Louvre, nor the la Grande Galerie. Nor were there any dead curators, lain out on the parquet floor, in mock representation of the Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man. But, like the book, there was a clue and greater mystery hidden among the art work on display.

The first puzzle presented itself, just by our walking through the door. The Curator, a very attractive and very much living woman named, Tamara Cannon, greeted us as we entered the door. Looking up brightly from her carved wood desk, Tamara stared at me and said, "Oh, you must be Rassilon!"

Now to be expected as a guest is one thing, but to be named as you walk through a door you've never walked through is another. Even Marilyn shot me a quizzical look that seemed to whisper, "What's up with this??? How could she possibly know who you were?"

Being famous, or even "Infamous," does have its small burden of notoriety. But, even I was reasonably certain that when I left home that morning, I did not have my name emblazoned across my forehead.

Tamara, thankfully, confessed to me later that this was a little joke on the part of Kristine Jenner. Kristine had called her earlier and alerted her what to look for; namely my black satchel with the Ravenchase Logo on it.

Tamara explained to us that she had been doubly sworn to secrecy, and we must follow the clues for ourselves, bringing her the exact passwords. Only then could she help us further in our quest. This being said, this left Marilyn and I to explore the gallery, keeping one eye on the clue page and another on the teams already there. The poem was a verbal road map of the Gallery.

Marilyn and I wandered among the fantastical bronzed sculptured works of Benjamin Levy, the pastoral paintings of Lisa Joyce-Hill, the flights of fancy by Ann Krasner. Past bronze Magicians, winged dogs, and a Yule time tree; all leading us to a smaller side room and the whimsical works of, Kathleen Stoltzfus. It was somewhere among her works, that the key to our mystery lay.

Other teams were already there, and it was not hard to see the object of their attention. On a fireplace mantel piece stood a small wooden house made of mixed media, acrylic paint, wire, paper and other found objects. Perched atop of it was a very familiar icon; a Raven.

Kathleen Stoltzfus artwork is marked by her use of birds, but this piece had a extra touch of whimsy about it. In minute swirling hand writing, Stoltzfus had transcribed nearly the entire poem of "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe.

Suddenly parts of the puzzle were coming together. The Hunt's beginning password and the word, Pallas, hidden within the clue's poem. Both were hints to this clue. Poe, was the author, and Pallas was the statue that The Raven perched itself upon in the poem. The benefits of my classical education were paying off.

Somewhere on this piece of artwork were the passwords we needed. Then according to the clue, we were to repeat them thrice to, Tamara Cannon, in order get our next clue. The only problem remaining, lay in getting close enough to the art piece to read it. At least a dozen people stood between us and the statue on the mantle.

Seven frustrating minutes later, we slowly edged ourselves upwards, until I was in arms length of the piece, but still I was unable to read the lettering on the statue. Kathleen Stoltzfus's handwriting was far too delicate. One team was laboriously copying out the entire poem. I, amusingly, had visions of Tamara sitting behind her desk, listening to endless recitals of the poem all day long. The solution had to be far simpler than that.

A small hole opened, and Marilyn and I moved forward, but suddenly out of no where she was there again; The Enchantress. My Femme Fatal from the Visitor's Center. Her hair golden, shimmered before me, scented with the floral fragrance of the shampoo she had used that morning. Unaware I even stood behind her, she examined the piece on the mantle, tilting her head provocatively, and effectively blocking my view.

I sought to move to her left and slip past her, but her hips swayed with my movements and unconsciously covered my advance. I shifted to the right and again, instinctively, her form shifted with my own. Her movements in perfect sync with my own body, as we waltzed gently back and forth together.

I was torn in my thoughts at that moment. On one hand I dreamt only of taking this enchantress into my arms, and guiding her onto a dance floor somewhere; where with such perfect rhythm to my own, I envisioned dancing closely with her in my arms to some golden oldie. Swaying gently until the last straining note of music ended with a kiss, and the future promise of romance in the darkening hours of the night.

And in direct opposition to these romantic stirrings of my heart, I thought simply of sweeping her form up in my arms now, carrying her swiftly away to some secluded spot with in the gallery, and rudely depositing her on some vacant spot of floor, so that I might, at last, finally get a chance to examine the small statue in detail.

I quickly nixed this second inspiration, as I sincerely doubted that this less than Gallant action would ever win the heart of my fair Enchantress. Much less inspire her to impart her real name, phone number, or even an e-mail to me. But fortunately for both of us, a third idea did occur to me.

Reaching to my Indiana Jones bag, I produced my small flashlight and began illuminating small sections of the statue. About a minute later, Marilyn grabbed my arm and pointed out something to me. There on the front of the piece, on the lower corner was a small piece of paper the artist had decoupage on to the statue. It was torn from dictionary and contained exactly three variations of a word. Marilyn and I looked at each other and fled.

At the front, Tamara Cannon, was waiting for us. I looked at her with a smile and said, "Quote the Raven..." giving her the three words from the dictionary. Tamara laughed and said, "Yes! We have a Winner!" Reaching into a cabinet next to her desk, she removed a scroll tied with a ribbon and ceremoniously presented it to us on a bronze serving tray. A serving tray shaped like a, Flying Monkey.

I was openly amused by the tray when I saw it, because it immediately reminded me of Kristine and Robert Jenner. In my past posts I have lampooned, Kristine for her personal quest to become more "Evil" in these games; jokingly reporting that she had already personally memorized the entire musical score to "Wicked" and here at last were the Flying Monkeys to proved her personal success in her quest for evil

Taking the scroll from the tray, we thanked Tamara for all her kindness and exited the building. Outside, we open the scroll we had been given, only to discover it was not a clue, but rather a biography page about the artist who created The Raven sculpture, Kathleen Stoltzfus. Marilyn once again looked worried and grim, but I assured her I knew what this was and turn over clue #3 to show her the back half of the page. Covering the page were groups of numbers that at best looked like representations of dates.

This is an Ottendorf Cipher, I explained, dating back to American revolution, George Washington and a German Mercenary named, Major Nicholas Dietrich, Baron de Ottendorf, who invented this code. The weight of all this information did nothing to enlighten, Marilyn, or ease her concerns. She was still lost.

I asked Marilyn if she had ever seen the movie, National Treasure, with Nicolas Cage. She said, "of course" This was the same code that they found hidden in invisible ink on the back of the Declaration of Independence. But, instead of us having to find the "Silence Dogood" letters to translate it, we had the biography scroll from the gallery.


The Cipher uses three-positional digits tell the location of individual letters contained within a key document; a book, a newspaper, or in Ravenchase's case the biography page from the gallery --- The Numbers 10-11-8 would refer to the 10th Line, 11th word in that line and lastly the 8th letter in that word, which would be the letter "T."

Marilyn excused herself at this point to run across to a restaurant to use their facilities, while I remained behind on a comfortable porch step to begin my translation of the Ottendorf cipher. When she returned about five minutes later, feeling far more content with the world, I was about half way done.

T - h - e - V - i - s - i - o -

10-11-8 10-4-7 9-2-2 14-8-2 18-7-4 13-10-4 1-5-1 5-8-1

- n - t - o - s - e - e - ....

5-3-5 5-21-6 2-18-4 10-14-4 11-8-2 11-6-6

Sorry, my bad... I couldn't resist... My gentlemen's agreement with Ravenchase Adventures is such that I may never reveal too much of their in-house secrets. Starter locations, unrelated to the hunt, I can discuss. The art of code solving, is viewed as public knowledge, but some of the actual hunts locations are forbidden, as they may be reused at a later date.

What the Ottendorf cipher revealed to us, must remain a secret, but it took Marilyn and I to a secret location and the discovery of a hidden Ravenchase Treasure Chest. A locked chest with two combination locks securing its secrets inside. This was where all the other clues would eventually culminate.

As I stood watch, pretending to be lost and consulting my map, Marilyn below me tried the first number we had discovered along the path. One of the locks snapped open. Marilyn was as giddy as a school girl and her smile and excitement returned to her eyes. We appeared to be first on the scene and we had half the solution to the locked box problem. Now we only had to discover the second number. Relocking the box, and returning it to its hiding place, Marilyn and I speed off in search of clue number #4. The Parlor Clue.

Among the many historical buildings of New Hope, we were intended to visit that day. One had a parlor and possessed a very fine piano. It was our task to uncover some mystery regarding that piano.

A simple task. Find a word. Fill in the numbered blanks at the bottom of the page, then move on to the next clue. But the poetic words of the clue, also spoke of a kitchen hearth as well, and this is where the confusion grew.

To would-be-adventures everywhere, I would caution you to be on your guard. On guard for the simple clues, as well as the mind numbing complicated ones. Treat each type with equal respect. Our clue was so simple and so easy, I think Marilyn and I both could not force ourselves to believe that anything could be this simple.

As a result, we wandered around the building far longer than we needed to, or intended to. It may sound ridiculous, but together we wasted an extra six minutes after we had the solution firmly in our possession. We had become victims of one of Robert Jenner's renowned shell game clues. We found the pea under the first shell, but did not leave until we had looked under all the wrong shells as well.

Time Clocks, Silly Walks and Locked Locks, Wait for No one!

Clue Number #5 involved time, both historical and actual. The clue's poetry spoke of the history of the town and of father time bedecked with ribbon and bow. I didn't have to look far, or to my Ravenchase map for this clue. The catalog within my mind snapped open and I knew exactly where we had to go in the town. We were after one of the very first objects that I took note of, when I arrived New Hope; the Victorian clock outside of the Visitors Center.

Marilyn and I made the journey in less than five minutes from our last location and set to work examining the clock in great detail. The code we were presented with in this clue was a Rotational Cipher. A code based on the shifting of a clear text message by a set group of numbers either forward, or backwards. For example, the word CLOCK with the code Key of : 123, becomes "DNRDM" The "C" is shifted one over, "L" Shifted two, "O" shifted three, and so on, repeating until the message was fully encoded. To decode you need only reverse the process. But, it is necessary to have the correct Key number in order to decipher the message. With the possibility of an infinite number of numbers to choose from; the correct number, was Key!

At the base of the clock, Marilyn and I discovered a small plaque possessing with not one date, but four separate dates. Any one of them, or even all of them could be our key number. There were four lines of code and four dates. There was nothing for it, but to write them all down and brain out this puzzle.

Just as Marilyn were deciding on which park bench to settle in on and occupy, my phone rang again and for a worrisome moment, I thought it was a message from Ravenchase saying we had lost horribly and to please come in. But, instead it was a message from Kristine saying, "The Historical Museum is closed, so here is the answer..." the answer was four small numbers.

Both Marilyn and I both knew what the importance of these numbers were. They could only be the last set of numbers needed to open the Locked Chest we had found earlier. Later, I was to find out at the restaurant, that some "nameless" person had had left a little joke of his own at the museum and a number of the teams came away with the wrong number.

Abandoning our present project, Marilyn and I decided to throw caution to the wind and to return to the Locked Chest to discover what was inside. We had all four numbers from the Victorian Clock already. So, we felt we could decipher this clue at the Chest location, just as well as any park bench found here at the Visitor's Center. We were off in a flash.

Hurrying down Main street, past the Bucks Country Play House, we past another team at a good clip crossing the bridge, heading in the same direction as we were. Thus far, I had not yet seen any of the more recognizable teams like, Team Dude Run, or the Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess. I only recognized this team, by the clue sheets clutched in their hands. Half way across the bridge, the couple passed us. When the sidewalk widen, Marilyn and I looked at each other and picked up the pace and passed the couple again. Thirty seconds later two blurs passed us again. This back and forth passing went on for the next three blocks, until I was afraid Monty Python's Ministry of Silly Walks, was going to arrest us both, for "silly walking" with-out a license.

Seeing an opening in the traffic pattern, I grabbed Marilyn's arm and we sped off sideways, crossing the street to be on the right side of the road for the Locked Chest. I hoped that the other team might find themselves trapped on the other side by the traffic, giving us a minute, or two, edge on them reaching the Lock Chest first.

Glancing back, both Marilyn and I couldn't resist a smile, when we realized that the other couple was not following us after all. Or even heading for where we were. At the last moment, they both turned into the Gallery Piquel. We had been racing against two people that hadn't the slightest idea where the hidden chest was yet. Speaking for myself, I felt deliciously sneaky at that moment.

Arriving at the secret chest location, the area was empty and devoid of any other teams. I took up my position, as guard and watchman, as Marilyn once again went to the location below and tried both sets of numbers.

If there was a single photograph I wish I had taken that day, it would have been the look on Marilyn's face, as the second lock snapped open. It was wonderful. It was that priceless mixture of a child's face on Christmas morning, and what I always imagined Mel Fisher's face must have looked like, the moment he discovered the final resting place of the Atocha. In that one moment, I truly think Marilyn "Got" what Ravenchase Adventures was all about. That wonderful moment of discovery and triumph. And then it was gone, as she opened the chest.

Inside the chest lay, not gold, silver, or even a cheap trophy cup, but our final mystery to be solve. Like the heroes of Dan Brown's novel, we had broken into the Depository of the Bank of Zurich, entered in our own version of the Fibonacci sequence and were now presented with a Cryptex of our own. Inside the box, lay a set of scrolls and a number of plastic Christmas tree ornaments.

The look now on Marilyn's face reminded me only of the famous line of Riley Poole from the film National Treasure, "Why can't they just say,--- Go to this place. Here's the treasure. Spend it wisely?"

I have to admit even I was a bit confused by what lay in the chest. It was a puzzling assortment of items. Taking one of each item, we relocked the chest, placed it back were we found it and vacated the premises, before further teams arrived.

Over, Under and Out!�
with a bit of Horse Trading

Halfway up the lane, was a barn and a place to sit out of the wind, while I carefully examined the scroll and the Christmas ornament. Clouds had moved in, the wind had picked up and the temperature was now dropping like a stone, as the sunlight dwindled with each passing hour.

Reaching into my Indiana Jones bag again, I pulled out several pencils and a Cipher Wheel of my own devising. These I presented to Marilyn, along with clue #5, asking her to work on the Rotational Code we had found at the Victorian clock. I had a feeling that we were going to need it to solve this last section.

As I unrolled and flatten the scroll, I half expected to find it was going to be writing in Da Vinci's backwards handwriting code, and that we were suppose to use the mirrored Christmas ornament to read it. But, that would have been far too easy.

The page was covered with 5 x 7 columns of different colored letters, mixed in with numbers. Each column was also marked by it having narrow slits carefully cut through the pages. Upon a first, second, and even a third glance, none of this made any apparent sense at all. That's when a thought about the slits came to me.

Pulling out my pocket knife, I slipped its point into the seam of the plastic Christmas ornament and cracked it open. Inside the ornament were five tightly rolled slips of paper.

Here, I have to give admiration to both, Kristine and Robert Jenner. For their ingenuity and incredible patience. It must have taken them both hours upon hours to get all those ornaments prepared. But, the purpose of the larger scroll and its slits was now crystal clear.

I was to weave the strips throughout the scrolls covering up certain letters and revealing others. The numbers that were revealed were to be filled in by letters found on the numbered boxes from earlier clues solved, such as the Parlor Clue. The message was ingenious, as it was imaginative.

There were five strips, one with a "tell" giving away its correct positioning. This left four strips to deal with. If any of my higher math functions of my brain were still working; four to the power of two, equaling a total of sixteen possible combinations for the strips, if the facing ones were to be only red, or black letters facing out. Thirty-two possible combinations, if the colors of the letters facing outward were to be a mixture. It could escalate of sixty-four. This could take minutes, or it could take hours to unlock this Cryptex. It was time make a phone call and get a hint.

The rules of Ravenchase Adventures do allow for you to make phone calls to them for hints, but it will cost you in overall time. When Kristine picked up on the other end of the line, she was jolly and full of spirits. But not of the liquid variety.

She gushed over the line, that she was somewhere where it was V-E-R-Y WARM, while we poor hunters had to suffer cruelly in the C-O-L-D. I laughed lightly at her joke (all the while, secretly wishing her another attack of the Rhino virus,) and told her of my mathematical dilemma.

She agreed that many combinations was a bit daunting and she and Rob should have left a better hint. So, she told me the secret was "RED." All the letters facing me, should be red, not black.

Hanging up, I was confronted by two other problems. One, other teams were starting to arrive. My first hint was looking up to see Rich, the husband of Team Dude Run, clownishly craning his neck around the side of the barn trying to see what progress we were making on the puzzle.

Jokingly, I threw my body across my pages covering them up the exact same way his wife, Michelle, had done in Philadelphia the previous June, when we all first met. Michelle and her daughter, Courtney, laughed at my mock antics.

My second problem was that of a completely different color. My partner, Marilyn, was becoming a very blue. Literally and figuratively. She had found the correct key date for the deciphering of clue #5, but even with my cipher wheel, she was having trouble making sense of the message. I promised that I would double check her work, but we first had to get her out of the cold.

I, being of half Scottish and Dutch ancestry, I don't mind the cold as others do, but poor Marilyn, was nearly frozen through and through. There was nothing left to for me to do. I would have to take Marilyn home to Mother's. --- Mother's Restaurant, that is. --- The Restaurant was only a few blocks away on North Main Street.

Before Marilyn and I left, I did do a bit of Horse Trading, for an answer that had been bothering me all day. I passed along the secret of the Red, to those teams that had so far arrived, but for another team, I had to stop them from running away without their Christmas ornament. In gratitude, they revealed the secret of the Snow Flake Code to me.

Like the secret at the Mansion, the answer was so ridiculously simple, that I overlooked it entirely. The Snow Flake Code was just a variation on an old Rail Fence Code. A simple cipher, that was first used during the American Civil War. We had the answer to the clue already; but it was nice to understand what I had over looked so easily for future reference.

At Mother's Restaurant, liberal amounts of warmth and hot spiced cider did much to restore Marilyn'ss spirits. I busied myself by filling in the blanks in Marilyn's decipherment and solving the Snow flake code, which now only took me less than two minutes to fully translate.

Marilyn's translation was 85% percent correct. The question that clue Number #5 asked was a simple one. "What has been at this location since a particular date?" The catalog in my mind snapped open again. I had seen that particular date in two locations at the Visitors Center. One was on the large Bronze Plaque on the front of the building and the second place was on the Iron Trellis, near the steps of the entrance. I suspected the Trellis, but, I could not remember the exact words that was on its small plaque.

Fortunately, I did recall that I took a picture of it. Reaching for my camera, I powered it up and played the review screen. The first photograph was the trellis, from about ten feet away. This was followed by images of the Bucks County Playhouse, the town's canon, village art work, the Logan Inn and the starting location of the race. But, the close up of the Trellis plaque was missing. Where was it? What had become of it? --- That's when it hit me.

Superman, as everyone well knows, can be defeated by Kryptonite. Daredevil, by too much sound. And the Green Lantern is powerless against the color Yellow. Even the immortal, Sherlock Holmes, found his Waterloo in the shapely womanly form of, Irene' Adler. My own weakness was to be observed solely in the blue of a woman's eyes and the warmth of her smile; The Enchantress.

In that single instance, when that woman greeted me outside the Visitor's Center, I forgot everything I was doing, including pressing the button on my camera that lay beneath my finger tip. All was lost, as I was.

Reviewing the photos I had taken again, I looked at the image of the trellis. The solution to the clue was before me, but far too small to read off my camera's two inch wide screen. There was nothing for it, but for us to return to the Visitors Center, and retrieve the missing words we needed to complete this final problem. Without them, the final page would forever remain gibberish.

The Finish Line

With health and warmth restored to her body, Marilyn was once again willing to brave the elements with me. Together we set out for the Visitors Center and the last leg of our journey. Ten minutes later we were at the Center and writing down the missing words. And we were not alone.

At least one other couple was there, still struggling to understand how the Rotational Code worked. I was feeling generous, and I gifted them one of my pencils with an eraser, and a hint. I filling in the first two words of the clue, I gave them the proper key number and explained how to use it.

With the quote in hand, Marilyn and I went inside the Visitor Center and discovered that, Stephanie was still at her post behind the reception desk. She kindly allowed Marilyn and I to stay warm inside and use the large table at the center of the room, to work out our final solution.

After filling in the missing letters on the long strips, it was only a matter of rearranging the strips in various combinations to find the proper order. This was a still bit of a bear even with the Red Hint, but Marilyn's knowledge of the town was our saving grace. During one of the shifts, Marilyn stopped me, because one word appeared she recognized. The word was Vito. On Bridge Street, she told me, there was a restaurant call, The Villa Vito!

Weaving the strips over and under throughout the page, the rest of the message appeared. Marilyn solution was correct and we were quickly off in search of, The Villa Vito, taking time out only long enough to thank, Stephanie, for all her kindness during the day, as well as the loan of the Visitors Center's table.

As we hurried along to the restaurant and the finished line, I did not hold great hopes for our chances of ever winning the race, but I at least held hopes for a respectable placing in the game. When I called in for the RED hint, Kristine Jenner had also mentioned to me that, so far, none of the other teams had cross over the finished line.

But, by my own mental calculations, of all our time lost, due to wandering down the wrong path, back-tracking and rest stops along the way; I estimated we were likely behind first place by almost twenty-two minutes. These thoughts I kept to myself, so not to worry Marilyn, since she was really starting to feel good about herself and her contributions during the day. For someone that had never run the race before, or cracked a code in her life, Marilyn was a wonderful partner to have during this race.

The lights of the Restaurant were warm and inviting, as we passed beneath the doorway of The Villa Vito. Applauses greeted us in true traditional Ravenchase style for anyone that even manages to finish such a race that we had been on. But, there were teams ahead of us, as I had guessed. Marilyn and I would learn later that we pulled in a respectable 6th Place showing. This was far from bad.

Out of nineteen teams, this placed us in the top third of the echelon of racers. Not a bad position to be, all things considered. Marilyn, I hoped would feel very good about going from "hopeless" at the beginning of the race to "honored veteran" at the end. Beating out thirteen other competing teams. A wonderful start for a beginner; as we also manage to stay ahead of my old rival team of "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess."

The HFMP arrived about ten minutes behind us looking a little worse for wear, but any ills, or miseries created during the race were soon forgotten, as drinks began to flow, hot food was ordered and much need warmth was returning to our limbs. Marilyn and I sat next to Team Dude, Run! swapping war stories, of the day's hunt as further teams arrived and continued to crowd the restaurant to capacity.

One of the final teams to arrive was a husband and wife team from Philadelphia that apologized for their lateness. They had been caught up at the Gallery Piquel discussing art with Tamara Cannon. It appears they had fallen in love with two of the art pieces and had lost track of time. This had to be a first, and very unique excuse, for any Ravenchase Hunt.

When the awards were given out, the Victors of the Day were as follows:

1st Place: Best Team Ever! (The Golden Bobble head Snowman)
2nd Place: Garden State Gang! (The Silver Snowman)
3rd Place: Team Dude, Run! (The Bronze Snowman)

All treasures being appropriately "Tacky," in the yet "Unbroken" tradition set by Ravenchase Adventures.

Marilyn eyed the statues and chuckled, seemingly grateful now that we didn't come in first. I wondered if she was thinking about what it would have been like for her to have to haul that huge bobble-head home with her. Together we lifted our glasses and toasted the winners and cheered the losers; alike and equally in their measure. It was a grand day out.

The party finally broke up about two hours later, as exhausted and very war weary adventurers headed home. Robert and Kristine Jenners were kind enough to save me the price of a taxi, by driving me to the Doylestown Train Station. For this I was very grateful for, and even more thankful for their friendship. They truly are wonderful people.

As I settled in my seat on the train for the long ride home, I once again pulled out my copy of The Da Vinci Code. Paging backwards through the book, in search of the torn piece of newspaper that marked my place. My finger stopped and paused over one of later and more important passages in the book.

The Holy Grail 'neath ancient Roslin waits
The blade and chalice guarding o'er Her gates
Adorned in master's loving art, She lies.
She rests at last beneath the starry skies

Like Robert Langdon and Sophie Neveu, within the novel, I and Marilyn that day had run a good hunt, cracking numerous codes, uncovered mysteries secreted away within an Art gallery, and unlocked our own version of a Cryptex. We had done extremely well together. But, like the hero of the book, Robert Langdon, there remained one final mystery left for me alone to solve... The Enchantress...

I realized now, as the train was pulling out of Doylestown, that I still had not learned the name of this mystery woman. I mused over this strange enigma in woman's form, and of the game itself.

The Jenners had promised that day, a unique, if not memorable hunt. The Enchanted Christmas Village Hunt, was certainly all this. And, it had lived up to its promise in every detail. The race was wonderful and filled with memories. I had also been "Enchanted" that day; albeit to my own small down fall. But, such is life. I speak of no regrets here.

But, as I glanced out the window of the train, looking up at the few stars above peeking through the clouds; I thought of the last line of the passage beneath my finger tips. "She rests at last beneath starry skies."

Somewhere out there, my fair Enchantress was resting beneath these same starry skies. Her name remaining a mystery for me to solve for yet another day. Perhaps another hunt… February was coming, I thought, and "Cupid's Arrow" held the promise of a new adventures from Ravenchase. Only time would tell...

To all the teams that joined us that day in New Hope, I wish you all Love, Laughter, and a very well deserved Rest. Till we all meet again on the field of battle and at Ravenchase Adventures, I bid you all a good night...

With The Best of Holliday Regards,

The "Infamous" Rassilon
A.K.A. "Rass" to his friends
A.K.A. Geoffrey G. Wynkoop

A Full list of the Team names, as they signed in for the Hunt
Congratulations to you all, you are all winners just for coming out that day:

1. Team McGee!
2. Freezing Travelers!
3. The Goonies!
4. New Hope Newbie's!
5. Factotum!
6. William H. Macey! (Previously raced in NYC)
7. Garden State Gang! (Previously raced in NYC, Hamilton, Princeton)
8. G Cubed!
9. El Taco Loco!
10. Currie Burrito!
11. Pack Leaders!
12. Shadow Fox!
13. Happy Faerie Mushroom Princess! (H.F.M.P.)(Philly Veterans)
14. Wildcard Hikers!
15. Fox!
16. Dude, Run! (Philly and N.J. Veterans)
17. Best Team Ever (Previously raced in NYC)
18. K-T Rocks!
19. Team Rassilon! (The "Infamous") (With the Lovely Marilyn –first timer)