Showing posts with label Bold Moon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bold Moon. Show all posts

Saturday, October 24, 2015

Bold Moon and the Sandy Level Creep


Last night, I headed up to Martinsville to take my mom out for a slightly belated birthday dinner — it was her 80th last week. I traveled, as I often do, by way of the back roads of Henry County, VA, through a little rural community called Sandy Level, which I consider the southern redneck version of H. P. Lovecraft's Dunwich. There's not much to Sandy Level; just a few houses, a business or two, and a rather spooky old church — the Gospel Light Church, for which a relatively new building has been constructed, but the original still stands nearby. Not far from the church, an old fellow I call the Sandy Level Creep stands by the road side with an arm raised in greeting. This is not a Halloween prop (although he may have started that way); he's out there 365 days a year, and he always has a smile and a wave for passersby. Yep, that's him in the photo there. Today, he was accompanied by a tall, bony, shambling figure that sent me a long, hard stare as I drove by; almost certainly one of the local walking dead, of which I'm told there are many. I made it through without mishap, but this is not a place I'd much care to have my automobile break down.
Red oak and red maple trees growing as one
at the Bold Moon Preserve

From there, it was off to the Bold Moon Nature Preserve, where a new geocache had been published. I had been there last year (see "Bold Moon at Twilight," November 11, 2014), and I'd found it a slightly creepy and very endearing location out in northeast Guilford County. When I arrived at the trail head this morning, the place was deserted, mine the only car in the little parking area. It's an easy hike out to where the cache was placed, but just before arriving at ground zero, I had to cross Reedy Fork Creek, which in this area is fairly wide and fast-moving. I did so without mishap, but the briers on the other side did a number on my clothes and exposed skin. I was first to find the cache, which made me happy, but I had just signed the log when I heard the sound of someone — or something — approaching. My god, it was more of the undead! A pair of zombies, sometimes known as the McTwins, were having a time of it getting across the river, so I very cleverly goaded them into crossing at the riskiest point. And then — success! — a wee bit of a splash, and one of the carnivorous monsters uttered a few words of dismay, for there were now wet feet. However, because I can be sporting even when it comes to the walking dead, I offered to share in the first-to-find honors on the new cache.

On the way out, the parking area was no longer empty. More like full and then some, as there was apparently a grand opening ceremony about to commence, which struck me as a little odd since the trail opened over a year ago. No matter, it was kind of nice to be coming off the trail as those folks were preparing to get on it, especially since I had a couple of dangerous-looking zombies in tow. There's always a little spectacle involved with that.

A good morning it was. Tonight... our regular monthly supper club gathering, this time at my place, appropriately Halloween-themed, with It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown in the lineup. Yay!
The old Gospel Light Church building in Sandy Level
Clearly the lair of an unearthly horror, not far from the cache. Possibly the McTwins' summer hideaway?

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Bold Moon at Twilight

Geocaching has been the world's best activity for leading me to new and different places, and I'm always fond of finding unfamiliar nature preserves and trail systems. Several new caches were published today at the Bold Moon Nature Preserve, which, much to my surprise, is located only six miles from my house, off Hicone Road in Guilford County. I never had a clue the place existed. It's not very large, about 21 acres, but it's really quite beautiful, with a well-maintained trail that leads down to Reedy Fork Creek. The preserve has existed since 2008, with much of the land donated to Guilford County by its former owners.
Two trees merged to become one

I arrived just before sunset, with close to a mile round-trip ahead of me. One of the caches required solving a puzzle on-site, so I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it to the lot of them before nightfall. In the end, however, I did manage to claim them all, with little daylight to spare. I tell you, there's nothing like being in beautiful autumn woods at twilight, and I quite enjoyed the pastoral scenery around the trail head. There had been a handful of people gathered at the trail head when I started my hike, but they quickly departed, leaving me in relatively relaxing, peaceful solitude — with just a touch of eerie atmosphere surrounding me. The moon is just past full, so I doubted there would be werewolves out and about this evening, but I have to tell you, if there was ever a place for werewolves to haunt, this would be it. For the old horror writer in me, being at this location with darkness falling really got the creative nerves going. I'm pretty sure the trail is just crying out for a night cache, though since I've already set up a couple, I'd prefer to see someone else do it. There are neighbors fairly nearby though, so there's no telling whether strange geocachers creeping through the woods, following glowing reflector tacks, might frighten them slap to death.

Hell, I've scared me slap to death when I'm creeping around in the woods at night.
An old critter stall bearing a Bold Moon sign made of mirror fragments
"Trail Building," according to a sign I found inside (see below)
I dunno... maybe there is a werewolf in there.
Intriguing sign at the trail head