Steely Dan |
Had to transport Ms. B. to Raleigh-Durham airport yesterday — a not altogether happy thing — but to make the best of it, I enlisted Ms. Bridget "Suntigres" Langley to accompany me for geocaching aplenty on the return trip to Greensboro. Sure enough, we arrived at RDU a little after 10:00 AM and, after a somewhat sad but hopeful parting of the ways with Ms. B., we commenced some serious cache hunting. Within a two-mile radius of the airport, there are about 500 caches, ranging in difficulty from the easiest to the most challenging. We ended up finding a fair mix of types — a total of 27 or so at the end of the day.
How often do you run into metal stick men out in the woods? How many hidden little graveyards can you discover in the middle of nowhere? Do you enjoy risking life and limb to make your way into precariously leaning trees so you can sign your moniker to a little piece of paper? How about reaching into dark openings where you're as likely to pull out some squirming, slimy, venomous life form as a goody-filled ammo box? Ever wanted to boot yourself square in the ass just for good fun? You should find out. Go caching. Go caching right now.
We did discover a pub that makes superb fish & chips and a mighty fine dirty martini — Trali Irish Pub in Brier Creek — because sometimes you just have to visit the cache bar. Also, as we sometimes do on the trail, we encountered some other geocachers who were relatively new to the game. As generally happens, we ended up shooting the shit and trading caching stories for a good half an hour. And then ran into them again at a subsequent cache a little farther on. Salute to "lotsofeathers," "do10hedron," and "naillik" from the Raleigh-Durham area.
A good day on the hunt, for sure. But in closing and in all seriousness, my best wishes are reserved for Kimberly and her parents as they face a severe and trying period of life. I have every hope that things will work out for the best.
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