Ed Schubert (editor of Orson Scott Card's Intergalatic Medicine
Show), and Old Man Rodan looking festive.
Marietta Publishing's Bruce Gehweiler
Tera Fulbright in full regalia
Show), and Old Man Rodan looking festive.
It was a wicked hot, eight-hour trip down to Charlotte from Greensboro yesterday. Yes, I said an eight-hour trip; I was geocaching the whole way. Picked up 39, which I think is a one-day record for me (yes, I realize this is child's play for many of the harder-core). So far at the con, I've been on a few panels, all well-attended (and one a shade beyond lively), sold and signed a few books, and grabbed a few additional caches.
At one of the caches yesterday, I came uncomfortably close to getting a face full of bees. I was on the hunt, trudging through some woods, and since I was in fairly rugged terrain—and in a veritable garden of poison ivy—I was watching my step, not so much where I was going. I looked up just in time to find myself three feet from a massive and highly active beehive, with all kinds of honey dripping to the ground. For a second, I prayed mightily that this was not a hive of those legendary killer bees, because I was a fair haul away from my car; fortunately, these little folks paid me no mind and carried on about their business, so I went on and carried out mine.
This evening, I headed out to a nearby park, where a half-mile boardwalk takes you out over an expansive marsh. Although there were muggles aplenty gathered at the park itself, I was alone on my hunt for the cache at the boardwalk's end, and I got to see plenty of native wildlife, including numerous frogs, a couple of cute lil beavers munching on some wood, and a very large, exceedingly homely six-legged fiend, the likes of which I've never seen and hope to never see again.
Heading home tomorrow. I expect it'll be another eight-hour journey.
Authors Gail Z. Martin and James MaxeyAt one of the caches yesterday, I came uncomfortably close to getting a face full of bees. I was on the hunt, trudging through some woods, and since I was in fairly rugged terrain—and in a veritable garden of poison ivy—I was watching my step, not so much where I was going. I looked up just in time to find myself three feet from a massive and highly active beehive, with all kinds of honey dripping to the ground. For a second, I prayed mightily that this was not a hive of those legendary killer bees, because I was a fair haul away from my car; fortunately, these little folks paid me no mind and carried on about their business, so I went on and carried out mine.
This evening, I headed out to a nearby park, where a half-mile boardwalk takes you out over an expansive marsh. Although there were muggles aplenty gathered at the park itself, I was alone on my hunt for the cache at the boardwalk's end, and I got to see plenty of native wildlife, including numerous frogs, a couple of cute lil beavers munching on some wood, and a very large, exceedingly homely six-legged fiend, the likes of which I've never seen and hope to never see again.
Heading home tomorrow. I expect it'll be another eight-hour journey.
Marietta Publishing's Bruce Gehweiler
Tera Fulbright in full regalia
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