Every treasure hunt begins with a good story.
Back in the 1930s there were a lot of gangsters who had a lot of loot to hide. The city wasn't safe, so they resorted to the Catskill Mountains with their booty and stashed it where wolves and Natty Bumppo once roamed. One night in the early spring of 1933, a big Packard pulled off on a lonely road somewhere deep in the mountains, in a forest far away from any house. Two men in gabardine trench coats and fedoras got out of the car. Outfits like that usually mean gangsters, and in this case it was Dutch Schultz and his henchman.