The Thrill of the Hunt Can Warm the Heart

OK, so it’s a little provincial, but give us St. Paulites a break (“The Chill of the Hunt,” Jan. 31). Is it sane to run around at midnight in 30-below windchill, long underwear, parkas, feverishly digging in snowbanks, only to look up and see several adults carrying shovels, hot chocolate and flashlights to further analyze clues and hope to find a buried treasure? No, but then it’s not sane to live in 30-below (make that 50-below) windchill. This fact was not lost on a New York reporter who declared in 1880 that St. Paul, Minn., was “unfit for human habitation” -- and hence the Winter Carnival and the medallion hunt were born.

Like many, I first deciphered clues and hunted for the medallion as a kid. As a transplanted St. Paulite, it’s the one thing I miss from home. I’m a real Angeleno now and a writer (and yes, I’m working on a screenplay about it). But the night I was out there, a few years ago, convinced I’d found the spot (and having dragged my sister and husband with me), feverishly digging and trying to stay warm as the moonlight glinted off the snow ... well, we all felt like kids again. St. Paul ... unfit for human habitation? I’m not so sure. Perhaps the medallion hunt has proved them wrong.

Abra Deering Norton

Marina del Rey