There's a nice new multi-cache in town called "Greensboro Underground,"
and guess where you get to hunt. Yes...down there. So, right after work, I met
up with friends Night-Hawk (a.k.a. Tom) and the
Sneaky Bulldog (a.k.a. Ethan), all of us dressed for the
occasion and armed with several flashlights. Thus, we commenced our journey.
To my chagrin, halfway through the adventure, my brightest light began to dim
rapidly, even with relatively new batteries; happily, I carried a spare, and
between us, there was no shortage of lighting.
At the first of the three stages, we snagged the coordinates for the next, held our tongues just right, and made our way into the earth's depths. Here, the diameter of our conduit was only about four feet, so it was t-i-g-h-t. And then what should our lights reveal but...spiders. BIG FAT HAIRY BLACK F-'ING SPIDERS—of the four-inch leg span variety—in mass profusion, hanging on every surface; up, down, and all around.
Night-Hawk and the Bulldog gently suggested that I go first.
All righty then! Only ever-so-slightly daunted, onward I went. You should have heard the Bulldog scream when one of the spiders passed right under his legs. Still, at a junction, he bravely took the point and found the requisite clue in short order. Another stage down. By now, it was nighttime, and when we burst exuberantly free of the depths and barreled onto the nearby sidewalk, we surprised an elderly woman walking her dog. Her cry of alarm may still be echoing somewhere out in space. We apologized and explained that we were running from a tunnel full of giant spiders. She made haste to part company with us.
For the third stage, we found ourselves with lots of ground—or rather, underground—to cover. At several junctions, we had more than one choice of tunnels to take, and it paid to choose wisely. At least in these, we could mostly stand upright. For a long distance, we were able to straddle the narrow streams flowing beneath our feet, and we began to think we might actually come out of this endeavor without getting soaking wet. However, came a time the water grew wider and deeper, so we finally said the heck with it, and now my boots are drying out for the next couple of days.
At long last, and lord knows how far in, I spied the cache. But it was here I made a grave mistake! Night-Hawk had kept right on going, but in my enthusiasm, I blurted, "It's here!" Had I not, he might still be down there having scads of fun while I'm lounging around above-ground, enjoying a post-cache martini. I'm sure I'll do better next time.
Actually, I'm glad Night-Hawk is still with us because he documented the whole journey with pics. I was reluctant to take my camera with me because I am a devout klutz, and probably would have dunked it.
At least I am a wise klutz.
Wait, what...?
At the first of the three stages, we snagged the coordinates for the next, held our tongues just right, and made our way into the earth's depths. Here, the diameter of our conduit was only about four feet, so it was t-i-g-h-t. And then what should our lights reveal but...spiders. BIG FAT HAIRY BLACK F-'ING SPIDERS—of the four-inch leg span variety—in mass profusion, hanging on every surface; up, down, and all around.
Night-Hawk and the Bulldog gently suggested that I go first.
All righty then! Only ever-so-slightly daunted, onward I went. You should have heard the Bulldog scream when one of the spiders passed right under his legs. Still, at a junction, he bravely took the point and found the requisite clue in short order. Another stage down. By now, it was nighttime, and when we burst exuberantly free of the depths and barreled onto the nearby sidewalk, we surprised an elderly woman walking her dog. Her cry of alarm may still be echoing somewhere out in space. We apologized and explained that we were running from a tunnel full of giant spiders. She made haste to part company with us.
For the third stage, we found ourselves with lots of ground—or rather, underground—to cover. At several junctions, we had more than one choice of tunnels to take, and it paid to choose wisely. At least in these, we could mostly stand upright. For a long distance, we were able to straddle the narrow streams flowing beneath our feet, and we began to think we might actually come out of this endeavor without getting soaking wet. However, came a time the water grew wider and deeper, so we finally said the heck with it, and now my boots are drying out for the next couple of days.
At long last, and lord knows how far in, I spied the cache. But it was here I made a grave mistake! Night-Hawk had kept right on going, but in my enthusiasm, I blurted, "It's here!" Had I not, he might still be down there having scads of fun while I'm lounging around above-ground, enjoying a post-cache martini. I'm sure I'll do better next time.
Actually, I'm glad Night-Hawk is still with us because he documented the whole journey with pics. I was reluctant to take my camera with me because I am a devout klutz, and probably would have dunked it.
At least I am a wise klutz.
Wait, what...?
The Bulldog wanted to play ball, so we let him.
On and on it goes...
Success....
