Salem Lake is looking more like Salem Plain these days.
To celebrate surviving yesterday's obviously devastating apocalypse, I set my mind on some trail caching today—which, to hunt any I haven't already found, required going a little distance. Thus I headed over to Salem Lake, near Winston-Salem, put in about four miles, and then another mile or so around the town of Kernersville. Quite hot out there, and the old man is now pooped.
One of the few downsides of geocaching is when individuals don't get permission to hide their caches on someone else's private property. The rules of Geocaching.com clearly state that caches may be placed on private property only with permission of the property owner. Alas, too few cachers pay sufficient mind to that little stipulation. I ran into that situation today for the umpteenth time; fortunately, the property owner who confronted me was civil and reasonable. Others have been far less so when they discover something has been hidden on their property without their knowing it, and that people are coming around with some frequency to find it. I confess there were times in the past when I was guilty of being lax in securing permission for some of my hides, but I have long since learned better. Nowadays, as more people are geocaching, it's imperative to follow the rules—this one in particular—or individuals, businesses, and communities that are currently open to geocaching won't stay that way. So hey, you cachers out there: get permission.
I did spend a most enjoyable day of rapture yesterday. Got in a bit of hiking, and then Ms. Brugger and I headed up to Eden to the drive-in theater to see the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie, which I enjoyed a lot, and I Am Number Four, which was no great shakes but still highly enjoyable...because, hey, it's the drive-in theater. The cheeseburger, fries, big honking cookie, and Woodford Reserve really hit the spot.
G'night.
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