The Blog Where Horror Dwells: Quarantine Spring

Today was the first day that really looked and felt like spring. It's gotta be the weirdest spring of my life, as it's the first and only spring in which I've had to live with a pandemic as a partner. So far, Ms. B. and I are doing fine, working from our respective homes (and I pray to god our jobs hold out, else life will be an unpretty thing), staying inside but for necessary errands and some serious exercise, of which geocaching has been a most welcome part. I've had to have some major work done to the old homestead in Martinsville, so I've spent quite a bit of time here these past few weeks. Right now, the season resembles spring as I remember it growing up — brilliant, comfortable, fragrant, peaceful. It's certainly different in that mingling with other human beings brings on a risk unlike any most of us have ever faced.

I was just reading a blog from some individual whose medical knowledge appears to be nominal, and whose callous attitude pisses me off, but there does seem to be some sense in the premise that, in order to ultimately overcome this particular Corona virus, a herd immunity must be established, and that can't happen while the world is in quarantine. In order for herd immunity to happen, more humans than not, especially those with stronger constitutions, essentially need to be the guinea pigs who are exposed to it, so that antibodies will develop to counter this specific threat. It sounds logical. Yet, I am far more inclined to listen to experts in the field — epidemiologists, medical personnel on the front lines, et. al. — and view the evidence, globally, as it presents itself. There's certainly no shortage of human beings being exposed to the virus. Look how well the unintended "experiment" worked in Italy, where massive numbers of people were exposed before the country undertook serious isolating measures. Herd immunity may happen in time (likely generations in the best-case scenario), but it strikes me as both foolish and callous to think it will happen naturally without casualties and economic damage far in excess of the current, recommended alternative measures of holding the beast at bay.

Anyway, I guess that's neither here nor there. I keep myself informed inasmuch as possible, but I am no expert in the field of epidemiology, and there's plenty of disagreement among experts as to the predicted trajectory of COVID-19. I'll take the wisdom imparted by those whose expertise in epidemiology comes from years of devoted study over some dilettante on the internet. I bring it up only because, on a strictly Darwinian level, the argument in question offers some validity.

Happily, the geocaching, while necessarily on the back-burner as of late, has at least offered a few nice opportunities for both rigorous exercise and serious seclusion in the woods. Our local geocache reviewers have wisely opted to not abandon publishing new caches altogether — at least as long as the activity is legally permitted. Rather, they are approving only geocaches that are demonstrably remote. No urban caches, none in areas likely to be overwhelmed by eager first-to-find hounds. I think that's a far more reasonable approach than shelving geocaching altogether. Woodland geocaching is far, far lower risk than going to the grocery store, or even taking a walk on streets where the human population is anything but sparse. Thus, I've made a handful of outings into the deep woods and am so much the better for it.

Just hanging around at the Bigfoot Trail

Yesterday, a new puzzle cache came out, over on the Bigfoot Trail, courtesy of friend Natalie, a.k.a. Ms. Fishdownthestair. Let it be known that Ms. FDTS has a mean streak, and while I managed to solve her puzzle with relative ease, the cache itself proved elusive. And when I say elusive, I mean I couldn't find the little fucker. In my zeal to get out to the woods, I did overlook certain info that surely would have helped me narrow down my search area. Alas! Anyway, while I was searching, friend Christopher (a.k.a. Ranger Fox) arrived on the scene. We conscientiously maintained far more than the required social distancing distance from each other, but after a couple of hours searching at and around the host — a massive, massive fallen tree — we ended up abandoning the hunt. At least I was able to get out there and actually hunt something, rather than spend ungodly amounts of time trying to solve a puzzle on my computer. I go caching to get away from the damned computer, and I can't say I don't resent it somewhat when the majority of caches coming out in the area are puzzles that require (sometimes extensive) computer time before you can get out on the trail to actually go geocaching. Fuck that noise, I say.

I see that friends Old Rob (a.k.a. Robgso), Tom (a.k.a. Skyhawk63), and Linda (a.k.a. Punkins19) managed to find that wretched little monster today, though not without considerable difficulty, as recorded in their online logs. I'll head back out there sometime this weekend, I reckon. Today, after work, I went after a couple of new caches at the Knight Brown Nature Preserve near Belews Lake. These weren't very difficult, though they did involve a decent hike on the winding trails through the preserve.

This evening, I enjoyed a superb burger from Third Bay restaurant, which is one of our favorite dining establishments in Martinsville. I was pleased to find they've remained open for carryout, and even more pleased that their business is absolutely booming during this period of wholesale business closures. I hope it remains so.

I do have quite a bit of writing and writing-related business to attend to, so... for now... I'm doing a bit better than hanging in there. Tomorrow's another day, but weathering this one, and the past few, hasn't strained anything. I take nothing for granted. I'm just taking what I can as I can. I'm actually less stressed out than usual over this past couple of weeks. I'm certain it's a result of not having to deal with so much human garbage on the highways on my ordinary commute to and from work. I like people a hell of a lot better when their paths don't cross mine so fucking often.

That said, I'm gonna keep on liking most of you. A whole lot. OK?