The Blog Where Horror Dwells: More Geo-Artsing-and-Fartsing

Periodically, Ms. B. goes off on an arts-and-crafts retreat, usually with her regular group of artsy-craftsy friends from NC, at some location of their group leader’s choice. Hillsborough, Raleigh, and Myrtle Beach are among their preferred destinations. Sometimes, I go along too — or, at the nearer locations, head over for a day-long visit — so that, while she’s artsing and fartsing, I go geocaching. Then, later in the day, we get together to go wining and dining. For us, this is a most excellent system.

This weekend, her gang met in Raleigh, near Raleigh-Durham Airport, which is readily accessible, and especially great for me because that area is rich with geocaches. This time around, I went over just for the day and targeted the Black Creek Greenway, near Lake Crabtree, just southeast of the airport. It was hot and buggy out, but for the most part, the greenway ran through woods that offered plenty of shade. For me, one of the most appealing aspects of this particular hike — which, according to my health app, measured 6.66 miles (how apt) — was that most of the caches were a bit more creative than your typical micro hide in the woods (see photo above — a fun cache called “Skeletor”). And although it wasn’t on the greenway but at a nearby hotel, for the first time in way too long, I got to climb a tree after a cache. Not a big tree, but a fun tree nonetheless. I do so love a good tree-climbing cache.

After putting in the mileage, I returned to Kim’s hotel, cleaned up as best as this old fart can clean up, and then we headed out for dinner and drinks. When we’re in that area, it’s something of a tradition to dine at Trali Irish Pub, which is precisely where we ended up. I customarily go for their Scotch eggs and fish & chips. This time, I ordered Scotch eggs and fish & chips. Fookin’ excellent, as usual. For afters, we got on Google to see if we could find a wine bar nearby. The closest offering was a small place called dailypint, which turned out to be a very loud... no, I mean VERY loud... and altogether unremarkable dive bar that had a handful of wines on hand. They did have a reasonable selection of craft beers, so I opted for one of those. In the end, though, we didn’t care to stay very long. In our old age, Ms. B. and I like to be able to hear ourselves drink...er, think.

From there, Ms. B. went back to making art, and I returned to Casa di Rodan. Though the bar experience was “Feh,” the dinner and geocaching made the trip fun as can be (and good for a much-needed cardio workout).

G’wan. Git.