The treasure vault awaits the clever mind, who reads the clues and seeks to find.
Before each First Friday’s celebration starts, this treasure will be hidden in Carbondale’s heart.
Through Main Street’s charm and gallery halls, past murals bright on building walls.
The treasure waits where artists gather, where community bonds grow ever stronger.
So, gather friends and family near, let the hunt begin without fear.
For somewhere in this valley blessed, adventure calls — begin your quest!
First Friday, October. 3
In a valley where the Roaring Fork runs free, where golden aspens dance for all to see, October’s brush paints meadows rust and gold, as mountain whispers share their stories old.
An elder passed, but left a lasting flame, his son still tends what bears his father’s name, from Smithy’s hearth to this donated ground, where melodies and memories are found.
This sacred space was born from love and loss beyond compare, the father’s gift lives on in every note, while golden leaves in autumn breezes float.
Look where the town comes forth to celebrate and mountains meet their fate, beneath the trees that whisper soft and low, your treasure waits where golden trees glow.