Things You Find Along the Trail

I frequently find odd things when I’m out trail hiking, and some of them make one wonder “Why this?” Today, it was a plastic bag containing a couple of hard-boiled eggs, one of which was decorated for Easter. I’d gone out to do maintenance on a couple of my night caches along the Osprey Trail in north Greensboro, and on my return hike, I happened upon these items near the banks of Lake Townsend. I sort of wonder if they've been out in the lake since last year —or perhaps longer — since it’s still a few weeks until Easter. Since I wasn’t hungry, I didn't eat ’em.

Both night caches — “The Tripods” (GC690XE) and “The Witch’s Woods” (GC70RY0) — did need maintenance, more than I could perform with the supplies I had on hand, so I’ll be making another trip out there quite soon, preferably at night, which is the way to experience these caches anyway.

The Osprey Trail is one of my favorites in the area as it’s usually less crowded than most (I saw only one other human being out there on today’s venture), and it’s got some of the best views of the lake. Not far from the Church St. trailhead, there’s an old chimney standing next to the trail, all that’s left from some old homestead going back Yog knows how many years. Once upon a time, there was a cache at the top of the chimney, courtesy of friend Ranger Fox (a.k.a. Christopher), which required particular tools of the trade or a very dexterous climber (if I remember right, we fashioned a tool out of a long, forked tree branch). Sadly, that cache is long gone; it was something of a local classic.

It’s supposed to rain all day tomorrow, so it’s not likely I’ll be out there to finish up maintenance until probably next week. Bummer, sort of.

Return of the Living Dead Bedtime Story

It's one of those days when the compulsion to go hiking grabbed me before I even got out of bed. In the absence of any new nearby trail geocaches, there was nothing for it but to go maintain a cache or two of my own... and undertake some good, old-fashioned wandering about. I got going pretty early, my sights set on one of my oldest cache hides — "Threading the Needle" (GC1EQD2) — about 1.5 miles out on the Reedy Fork Trail along Lake Townsend. The cache itself, which I placed in July 2008, turned out to be in excellent condition, considering its age. I also decided to wander about the woods, thinking I might be able to rediscover the container from the very first night cache I ever hunted.

That cache was called "Bedtime Story" (GC112D8). A few friendly reprobates and I hunted it in April 2008, and what an entertaining experience that turned out to be! (If you're feeling masochistic, an account of this adventure may be found here.)

Nowadays, I keep detailed notes of all my cache finds, including the coordinates to the final stages of multi and puzzle caches, but in those early days of geocaching, such a helpful notion had not occurred to me, and it wasn't until 2012 that geocaching.com added the capability to store such information on the cache pages. So, I have only dim memory to draw on as far as the location of the final container, which was an ammo can hidden under a prodigious deadfall not far from the lake bank.

Today, since I was a long way out on the trail where "Bedtime Story" is hidden, I took it upon myself to go looking for it. Now, without having access to its coordinates, I knew it'd be something of a crapshoot. And I really don't even know if the cache is hidden where it used to be; the cache owner, Ranger Fox, has changed things up with it over the years. Still, I decided to follow a few hunches and see whether I might find myself somewhere that might look familiar enough to lead me to the hide.

The long and short of it is that I did not. However, I had a great time finding many of the old reflector tacks that led you to the different stages of the cache. Some of those are still usable for the cache's current incarnation, some are probably not. On one of my side trips off the trail, I happened upon a big-ass barrel near the lakefront, which aroused my curiosity, but I did not attempt to pry it open because you never know when a big-ass barrel in the woods might contain a flesh-eating zombie. I mean, it has happened. Remember Return of the Living Dead! Like hell I'm gonna go down that road!

Anyway, I fit in a good 3.5 miles of hiking, much of it in fairly rugged terrain. So now I has a tired. Got real writing to do, so off I go!

Tis mighty swampy out yonder

Odd little lean-to I happened upon; probably someone's makeshift duck blind

A Stellar Start (NOT)

2021 has not exactly kicked off on a stellar note. DC riots and Capitol-storming aside, things on the family front have not quite gone as hoped. My brother, Phred (a.k.a. Alan) is in dire straits, health-wise, and this has cast a pall over even the more pleasant aspects of life. Dealing with Mom’s estate has presented me with more than its share of challenges, but right now — thankfully — I am able to step back a little to deal with other priorities.

The other day — Thursday, I believe it was — I took a little respite by heading up to the Laurel Bluff Trail, up at Lake Townsend. Friend Natalie had placed a slew of Munzees out there, and while I’m only so enamored of the Munzee concept, it gave me a fine excuse for an early evening hike. The sunset was gorgeous, and I ran into scarcely a soul out there, which made for a relaxing, contemplative outdoor experience.

On Friday, Kimberly and I headed to the old homestead in Martinsville, primarily to take down the Christmas decorations, which is always rather sad; perhaps more so this year, with Mom gone and Phred not doing well. We did have a fine dinner from Third Bay Cafe, watched The Mist, and played a bunch of fun tunes on YouTube till the wee hours. Once back home on Saturday, we set to work on the house upgrade; got a good spot of painting done in the kitchen.

Today, I hiked on the Blue Heron Trail to do some cache maintenance, which wasn’t as much fun as hiking to find caches, but it provided me with some much-needed exercise, and the weather was just right.

I’m putting the finishing touches on my Ameri-Scares novel, New Hampshire: Ghosts From the Skies, which I anticipate turning in this week. Then I have a short story lined up for an upcoming Lovecraftian anthology, which I hope will fly. Those are the high points, I reckon, but the low ones will be lurking around every corner. There’s just no way around them at this point.

But we maintain. Peace out.

A lovely evening on the Laurel Bluff trail, with the sun's last rays highlighting the trees across Lake Townsend

Fresh paint and primer brightens up the kitchen a bit....

What Manner of Witchery Is This?

In an effort to maintain some semblance of normality during the Corona virus pandemic, a little geocaching felt in order today. In this case, rather than hunting caches, I placed one. Boy, did I place one. To claim it, prospective finders must accomplish certain feats of agility and strength (and possibly air a host of grievances).

Just over three years ago, I hung a cache way up in a tree and concocted a bit of faux folklore for its background (see "The Curse of Lillian Gadwick," February 18, 2017). Recently, that tree has succumbed to natural — or perhaps supernatural — forces, which have rendered it increasingly untenable (see photo below) as a host. So, I decided to archive the original cache and come up with a sequel. Thus we now have "The Curse of Lillian Gadwick II."

Here's the story behind the cache....

"One of Guilford County's lesser-known legends involves a woman named Lillian Gadwick (1723–1781), reputedly a practitioner of witchcraft, who resided in the area that is now Lake Townsend in northern Greensboro. The story goes that she lived alone in a cabin in the woods and was suspected of abducting and slaughtering children from the nearby community, then known as Capefair — though numerous investigations could produce no evidence of such deviltry. However, just prior to the Battle of Guilford Courthouse, a company of troops from General Cornwallis's advancing army came upon her cabin and caught her 'rendering the fat' of several young children, which she presumably intended to consume as a means of enhancing her supernatural abilities. Horrified by this unspeakable act, the troops hanged her from a tree, burned her cabin to the ground, and then departed to rejoin Cornwallis. However, the troops failed to report and, in fact, were never heard from again — except for one, who came back stark, raving mad.

The host of the original "Lillian Gadwick" hide, now feeling
a little tired. If you zoom in close, you may be able
to see the cache container hanging on a branch.

"A scout was sent to find the missing men. At the site of Lillian Gadwick's cabin, he discovered only a number of strange stick figures hanging from trees — forty-two to be precise, the same as the number of troops who had vanished. (Such 'witch symbols' have been referenced in literature and movies, such as in Karl Edward Wagner's short story 'Sticks' and in the films The Blair Witch Project and its sequel, Blair Witch.

"Little else is known about Lillian Gadwick, but she reportedly kept as a familiar a strange creature called Oren Grey, which resembled a huge possum with a grotesque human face. (The witch Keziah Mason, as recounted in H.P. Lovecraft's story, 'Dreams in the Witch House,' kept a similar creature, named Brown Jenkin). Though no such creature as Oren Grey can be proven to exist, it was said to keep itself hidden in dark, hard-to-reach wooded areas, traditionally avoiding human contact except when it accompanied the witch on her unholy expeditions to abduct local children. Certain curses cast by witches who practice dark magic can supposedly alter time and space, and there were those who said Lillian Gadwick possessed such power."

Geocachers who spot one of the 'witch symbols' may be assured they are very close to the cache. I hope the container will remain in place at least as long as its predecessor. As you may have guessed, caches that involve a certain change of altitude appeal to me. Hiding this one was damned fun too, as I ended up climbing a series of trees before I found just the right spot.

And a damned fine, scary spot it is.

The Big, Beastly Bison and Others

Three-quarters of Team COG on Lake Townsend: Fishdownthestair, Diefenbaker, and Old Rodan,
with Old Bloody One-Eyed Rob behind the lens

This past week, three new geocaches came out on Lake Townsend, all of which required a boat to access — unless one might be inclined to do some serious wading, as friend Ranger Fox, a.k.a. Christopher, did at one of them earlier this week. Today looked to be a beautiful, if somewhat scorching day for a paddle, so a number of the usual suspects — Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott), Fishdownthestair (a.k.a. Natalie), and Old Bloody One-Eyed Robgso (a.k.a. Rob) — gathered this morning to see if we might make short work of the three caches, and perhaps get first-to-finds on the two as yet unlogged. One of them — The Big, Beastly Bison (GC8AD72) — looked as if it might present some physical challenge, as the published description put it some distance up in a tree whose limbs were not fit for climbing. So, we chose it as our first target.

Diefenbaker preparing to retrieve The Big, Beastly Bison

Once at ground zero, we spotted the container quickly and considered our various options. Diefenbaker had brought ropes and tackle; Fishdownthestair came with her prodigious height (roughly 5' 1"), which we figured sufficient to conquer any vertical challenge; Old Rob brought his customary bad attitude; and I had built up a substantial reserve of sheer brute strength after enjoying a couple of bottles of The Old Infuriator with Ms. B. late last night.

In the end, using a combination of the aforementioned tools of the trade, we soon had the cache in hand. And hot diggity, the log sheet didn't have a mark on it. It does now. From there, we paddled on under a hot sun, occasionally relieved by a fair breeze. We made short work of "Temptation"(GC8AD6G), the one Ranger Fox had already found, and scored another nice FTF at "Turtle Point" (GC8AD2E). On the way back to the marina, we stopped at a handful of other caches some of our group had yet to find. We are nice that way. Except for me, I am told. I am merely that villainous scum at the front of the pack.

Afterward, three of our number, sans Old Rob, sallied forth to Uptown Charlie's, not too far away, which has been the customary destination for lunch when our crowd is dripping wet after a geocaching outing. Their chicken wings with suicide sauce are to die for. I wouldn't be surprised if the staff wonders why, every time a certain group comes in, watery footprints appear on the floor. It is all rather ghostly.

Since the owners of the new lake caches — Skyhawk63 (a.k.a. Tom) and Punkins19 (a.k.a. Linda) — live very near my route home, I made a brief stop at their place to offer my regards and thank them for the caches.

And now, so many things to do and so little time. Au revoir, mes amis.

The Old Man and the Sea... er... Lake

Damned Rodan taking a breather

A Nano on the Lake? Seriously?

The mad Arab, Abdul al-Rodan, taking a breather under bridge after having summoned
the Great Dagon from his lair beneath Lake Townsend in Greensboro

Why, yes... very seriously!

After a memorable and invigorating geocaching outing in Chapel Hill yesterday (see "Taberna Ferramentorum and Others"), three of the four members of Team No Dead Weight — Fishdownthestair (a.k.a. Natalie), Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott), and Abdul al-Rodan (a.k.a. Me) — gathered again this morning to take on a couple of paddle caches on Lake Townsend, in northeast Greensboro. Today, for our collective moniker, we opted for Team No Dead Fish. After waiting considerable time for Diefenbaker, who had made the mistake of listening to the lady navigator in his GPS and ended up at the wrong lake, we left the marina in our respective kayaks and made our way to "Goose" (GC807N1), a neat little hide placed by friend Punkins19 (a.k.a. Linda) about a half mile from the marina.

Then came the big paddle. From there, we had to go almost the length of Lake Townsend — over three miles — to "A Nano on the Lake" (GC7ZYGF), hidden by Skyhawk63 (a.k.a. Tom, a.k.a. Linda's Exceptionally Old Man). It is, in fact, a nano (a magnetic container about the size of a pencil eraser) attached to the sheath around the base of an electrical tower in the middle of the lake. It took some time and fair effort to get out there, but get there we did, and it wasn't long before we found the container, happily in good condition. Once we had scrawled "Team No Dead Fish" on the logsheet, we began the long paddle back to the marina.

For afters, we planted ourselves at Uptown Charlie's, my favorite destination for chicken wings. Their Suicide Sauce is the bomb, almost literally.

Today's lake journey was my second longest lake paddle, the longest being on Philpott Lake in Virginia, when I went after my 8,000th geocache in 2015 (see "All Alone in Goblintown"), and Ms. FDTS's longest. I'm fairly certain that at least one of us is going to feel the burn tomorrow. Maybe even from the exertion.

Tomorrow, it's back to the office... and such a shame. I've been going great guns on my latest work of short fiction, and I'd sure love to spend the day making forward progress on it instead. Alas, the sadness overcomes me.

And they're off! Diefenbaker and Fishdownthestair race toward the cache.

View from under the bridge at Yanceyville Road. Our destination is visible in the distance.

Almost there.