Jamison Mill Firsts, Farts, and Friends

Team Old Farts and Friends: Old Rodan, Less Old McTwin, Old Skyhawk, REALLY Old McTwin

How nice it was on Saturday evening to hear my phone gonging over and over to notify me of a passel of new geocaches being published somewhere near me. How much nicer to discover they were at Jamison Mill Park, not far up the country roads along Philpott Lake, which I consider one of my favorite settings on Earth. So, yesterday morning, I got up with the sun and headed out to see if I might manage at least a few first-to-finds before lunchtime, since I had an Easter dinner engagement with old family friends. I hadn't hiked at Jamison Mill before, and what I discovered on my arrival was an extensive, beautifully maintained park and trail system — now populated by 19 new geocaches.

I knew I couldn't conquer the lot in swell foop, so I figured I'd hike and hunt until I had to head home in time to clean up for Easter lunch. I logged my first find at 0830 and my last at 1200 on the nose — a total of eleven first-to-finds and a hike of just about four miles. Not sidewalk miles... rugged, rocky, very steep miles, so suffice it to say that I worked up a pretty good tired and came home with slightly sore feets (the cushioning in my hiking boot soles is worn out in the extreme, so I think it's time to replace them). I managed to get home in plenty of time to make myself presentable and enjoy a wonderful Easter lunch with longtime friends/second family, the Wickliffes. Ms. B. had also intended to go, but she caught the crud I'd suffered last week and so stayed home to avoid infecting anyone else. She's nice that way. Sometimes.

Then, last night, friend Tom (a.k.a. Skyhawk63) hollered at me and said he and friends/fellow cachers, Daniel and Dustin (a.k.a. 2McTwins) planned to go after those caches I had not to see if they might pick up some first-to-finds this morning, and would I care to go along? I cared to. So, again, up early and off to Jamison Mill with the team, which we dubbed "Old Farts and Friends." I'm not sure who came up with that; I think it was one of the McTwins. Anyway, how very apt.

Today, since all the caches I hadn't picked up yesterday resided farther out in the park, we had a long hike ahead of us. To our surprise, we'd just begun our first hunt of the day when friend & fellow cacher Todd (a.k.a. Tbbiker) wandered over the hill. He'd started even earlier than us and was just about finished for the morning. He too had left a few first-to-finds unfound, so we managed to snag those before finishing our outing. We had one disappointment, which was failing to find one of the caches — which, of all things, Todd had found; we suspect that, in our zeal, we ended up displacing the container without realizing it and burying it in the thick layers of leaves. It wouldn't be the first time.

Anyway, such disappointment demands another outing that I might make a clean sweep. Maybe next week. Today, we put in over five miles on the trail, and so, between my two days of geocaching, I've hiked almost every inch of the trails out there.

On our way home, Tom and I stopped for lunch at The Checkered Pig, a Martinsville BBQ institution. It were all kindsa good.

Early Easter morning at Jamison Mill Park

Nice view of Philpott Lake from the trail

All that remains of the Bob Carter House along the banks of Philpott Lake

Trail along the lake bank

Looking upward from the center of a massive, ten-trunk sycamore tree

Trail map of Jamison Mill Park. Between two days of hiking and caching, I covered almost every
inch of those trails — about nine miles

Angel’s Envy, Turkey Day, Christmas Trees, and Cinderella

I don't always drink Angel’s Envy, but when I do, it’s
because some awesome friends are awesome.

For Ms. B. and me, the Thanksgiving weekend kicked off on Wednesday afternoon, as work let out at lunchtime. This worked out great for us because we had company — friends Stephen Provost & Samaire Wynne — coming over for drinks and dinner early in the evening. We ended up having a lovely visit, with Marco’s Pizza and some excellent Italian wine on the menu. To top things off, they brought over a bottle of Angel’s Envy bourbon, which turned out to be delightful. A fine spirit, it is, with silky undertones and a long finish that gets mellower and mellower. I loved it. And a thousand thanks to Stephen & Samaire. Awesome friends indeed!

On Thursday — Thanksgiving Day — morning, Brugger and I rose pretty early and headed out to Browns Summit, the headquarters of friends Tom (a.k.a. Skyhawk63) & Linda (a.k.a. Punkins19) for a geocaching breakfast event. Tom served homemade biscuits with lots of fixings, not to mention coffee aplenty. A decent-size crowd showed up, and that really got the day off to a perfect start.

From there, Ms. B. and I headed back home and started prepping the feast. I had gotten us a big ol’ turkey breast, which I seasoned and got cooking straightaway. We smashed some potatoes, cooked up some gravy, Brugger made a batch of savory mushroom & gruyere tarts, and we topped that off with large green salads. I was a little afeared I might have overcooked the dead bird when I checked the meat thermometer, but no... it was delicious and done just right — as was everything. As far as Thanksgiving Day dinners go, this one could hardly have been better (although, at the end of it, I was too full to partake of the cheesecake we had for afters; I’ll enjoy that later).

I had decided a while back, with Ms. B.’s blessing, that I would spend Thanksgiving night as well as some extra time at Pleasant Hill, the old homestead. So, after dinner settled a bit, I hit the road and headed first to Oak Ridge, just northwest of Greensboro, to snag a newish geocache. Upon giving the map a look, I noticed there was another cache over in Walnut Cove, a few miles farther northwest. So, I decided to go check that one out as well. I was pleased to see it was located at a graveyard, since graveyard caches are typically among my favorite. It turned out to be a fun cache indeed. That little side trip done, I continued on to Martinsville.

Many of my readers no doubt know that, against every conceivable expectation, I am the last of the family I grew up with. I lost my dad to complications from diabetes two decades ago. Last year, I lost my mom to COVID-19. Earlier this year, my younger brother passed away of leukemia. Now and again, these losses still overwhelm me. While my family was alive, Christmas was a momentous holiday. Mom always loved having a Christmas tree, and she collected a prodigious number of ornaments over her lifetime, most having some special significance. For those several years that she was debilitated with dementia, I kept that tree going up every Christmas. And now that she is gone... that they’re all gone... I treasure putting up the tree. So, on this night, at the house where I grew up... the place my mom loved most... I put up the tree and decorated it. An emotionally tough yet heartwarming undertaking.  I did this to honor my family that was. I imagine I will do this for as long as I physically can.

Kimberly and I will spend our holidays celebrating the family that is. My daughter, Allison, is remote, but close in heart, I know. So this is how I’m starting my Christmas season. It does hurt, but there is also a wonderful refuge in so many memories of perfect times — particularly during the holiday season — with my old family.

That done — and you can roll your eyes all you want to — for some reason, I felt drawn to put on the 1965 Rodgers & Hammerstein production of Cinderella, starring Lesley Ann Warren and Stuart Damon. I hadn’t seen it, or even really thought about it, since I was a kid. Something about last night’s onslaught of childhood memories, I suppose. Anyway, I went ahead and watched it on YouTube. Was it any good? Well, I dunno; it was pretty much Cinderella as we all know the story. Since I still have something of a soft spot for old musicals, I found a couple of the songs pretty good. A handful of lines made me crack a smile. So I guess you could say I enjoyed it. I am certain it is not going into the regular holiday video rotation.

This morning, I found breakfast at The Ground Floor, a relatively new coffee shop uptown, and then headed out on a geocache maintenance run, first to Philpott Dam, then to a couple around Martinsville. The hiking did me a world of good. On the way back, I grabbed a nice lunch at Hugo’s, also uptown. And this afternoon, now I’ve gotten this blog composed, I have a bunch of writing to do for upcoming projects. And thus I shall.

I’ll be back.

Philpott Dam

Water Under the Bridge

Old Rodan at Ferrum College with Vaughan Chapel in the background

These days, I spend a great deal of time in Martinsville, where I grew up, helping to look after my aging mom. When I'm there, it's a real treat for me to be able to get out and about on a geocache hunt, especially in the rural areas of Patrick, Henry, Floyd, and Franklin Counties. A month back, there was a nice caching event at nearby Philpott Lake (see "Cachin' Passion in the Parks"), and 20-some caches came out in conjunction with it. I've claimed most of them over the past few weeks, but I still had one of those left to find as well as a relatively new one at Ferrum College, where I went to school somewhere back in the dawn of man.

So this morning, I drove my favorite back roads up to Ferrum to seek "Water Under the Bridge" (GC82ZH8), located under a nice little footbridge on a walking path around the campus. Upon my arrival, I discovered a major to-do happening at Vaughan Chapel, not far from ground zero, so I ended up parking some distance away. However, as it was a perfectly beautiful morning, I enjoyed the opportunity to get in a little extra walking. The campus has always been scenic, but it's far more so now than it was in those dim, distant days, thanks to numerous renovations over the years. Entertainingly, on my drive up, Sirius XM radio was playing a trove of the songs that were popular during my interment. Stuff like Led Zeppelin's "Trampled Under Foot," Pink Floyd's "Time," and the Steve Miller Band's "Fly Like an Eagle." Man, talk about getting into the mood. Upon seeing Garber Hall, where I had several science and history courses, a rush of memories swept over me, for Garber Hall was also used for the student cinema, and it was there that I saw The Texas Chainsaw Massacre for the first time... an experience that culminated in the worst drunk of my entire life (see "Why I Don't Drink White Wine" for whole sordid story).

Not exactly a traditional signature, but in the
absence of a working pen, one must
sometimes improvise.

Once at ground zero, I dove down deep and commenced to hunting. I hadn't been there long, though, when a nice lady on a morning run noticed me playing troll, and asked if I was hunting for something. My response of "a geocache" drew an enthusiastic response. Turns out she works for the college, and we ended up having a lengthy conversation about caches, college, my writing career, dark lit in general, and folks we both knew or had known. Eventually, I found my quarry, only to realize I had discarded my non-working pen and failed to grab a new one. Since signing the log sheet is kind of a prerequisite for claiming a cache, I poked three holes in the log and took a photo of it to verify my find. Fortunately, I had a spare pen in the car for any further cache finds.

On the way out of Ferrum, I stopped off at the site of the old House Restaurant, where, back in the day, I frequently consumed massive quantities of pizzas, turkey subs, and cheap beer. There's very little left of the place, as it caught fire some decades back. A number of years ago, on one geocaching visit or another to Ferrum, I had managed to get inside and explore the ruins, although it's currently so overgrown and hazardous that I wouldn't even consider making such an attempt.

From Ferrum, it's not very far to Philpott Lake. In fact, during my college days, bunches of us spent considerable time at Horseshoe Point, Mines Branch, Ryan's Branch, Jamison Mill, and other recreation areas around Philpott Lake. My destination today was "The Guardian of Ryan's Cache" (GC86WN6), which I managed to find quickly.

Then it was back to Martinsville to run another few errands for Mom. I returned to Greensboro by way of Eden, where I was able to pick up a couple of newer caches. For tomorrow, there's a wee bit of additional caching planned with friends Suntigres (a.k.a. Bridget) and BigG7777 (a.k.a. Gerry). "I just can't get enough," as the song goes....

A frequent view during my Ferrum days. I lived in Riddick Hall (the left-hand building) during my
freshman year; Chapman Hall (the center building) during my sophomore year; and got kicked out of
Susannah Wesley Hall, the girls' dorm (the right-hand building), on numerous occasions.

Garber Hall, where I had several classes. The student cinema was also there, where I first saw
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Gross events followed.

All that remains of The House restaurant, where I once consumed massive quantities of pizzas,
turkey subs, and cheap beer. A few years ago, I went in and explored the ruins, but it's now
overgrown and too-near-collapsing to warrant any further such exploration.

Cachin' Passion in the Parks

Team Deadly Serious at old graveyard near my Lair of the Mothman (GC855TA) geocache,
placed for the Cachin' Passion in the Parks event

Several weeks ago, longtime geocacher and (retired) forest ranger of my acquaintance, Ranger TracksAll (a.k.a. Susan), contacted me about a big geocaching event she and her husband, Ranger WillKetchum (a.k.a. Danny) wanted to put together. It would take place at Philpott Lake and Fairy Stone State Parks in Virginia, near Martinsville, and include a considerable number of geocaches placed around Philpott Lake. I thought this was a grand idea. So, a few weeks back, I put out three new caches on the Dogwood Glen Trail near Philpott Dam in preparation for the event, which took place yesterday, April 27, 2019.

The event, Cachin' Passion in the Parks, drew about 25 attendees, mostly from Virginia and North Carolina. On the way up, I snagged three individual first-to-finds, and several more with a big group over the course of the day. The event proper opened with nice introductory remarks by Rangers TracksAll and WillKetchum and Fairy Stone Park manager John Grooms. There were prizes aplenty handed out to attendees, including an autographed copy of West Virginia: Lair of the Mothman, won by Honeychile (a.k.a. Vickie), who—quite coincidentally—had been kind enough to host a Fugue Devil–themed event in Winston-Salem back in 2015 (see "Equinox Devil, Part Deux).

The rest of the day, I hiked along with a sizable bunch of geocachers, all quite nerdy yet rugged. We snagged a fair of number of caches here and there, and we finally headed up the Dogwood Glen Trail, where my three hides in wait for the unsuspecting hunters. Me, I wanted to check the accuracy of my coordinates, which, happily, proved quite good. And our old friend Robgso became the lucky recipient of a copy of West Virginia: Lair of the Mothman, inclued as the first-to-find prize in my cache called (not coincidentally) "Lair of the Mothman."

View of Philpott Dam from overlook

View of Philpott Lake from overlook, facing west

View of Philpott Dam from near the Dogwood Glen Trailhead

Today, I was up bright and early for another caching outing, this time to Salem Lake, on the near side of Winston-Salem. Team No Dead Weight, consisting of Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott), Fishdownthestair (a.k.a. Natalie), Robgso (a.k.a. Bloody Rob), and Old Rodan (a.k.a. me), set out primarily to pick up seven new Paul Bunyan–themed hides, placed by the ever-creative Honeychile, mentioned above. Diefenbaker, Ms. Fish, and Old Rob went after a few additional caches that I had already found on previous excursions. At the end of the day, we had put in around six miles of occasionally rugged hiking. On our way back to Greensboro, the team stopped at my office so they might snag first-to-find accolades on my newest hide—"Rodan's Roost Redux"—which I had placed some distance up a tree beside the parking lot on Friday. It was published yesterday, but to our surprise, no one else had yet claimed the FTF honors. Team No Dead Weight dirtied up the log real good, so they are number one, and everyone else is number two, or lower.

Now there be tired. I tired now. You come again some other time.

Team No Dead Weight at Salem Lake

A loverly little stream at Salem Lake.

A Great Honking Blue Bird who remained in place just long enough to pose for a photo.
Shortly afterward, a speeding bicyclist on the trail scared him off.

All Alone in Goblintown

It's been a somewhat slower year for geocaching than others since I took it up in 2008, mainly because I've claimed most of the caches within reasonable proximity and have to travel farther and farther afield to find appreciable concentrations of hides. For a while now, I've been slowly but steadily creeping up on find number 8,000, and for that milestone, I've been hoping to go after something a little out of the ordinary. I finally settled on a cache called "All Alone in Goblintown" (GC1EAWF) at Philpott Lake, near my old hometown of Martinsville, VA. It's out on an island a good couple of miles from the nearest marinas, and it's been sitting out there unfound for the past six years. Since I do not own a boat, I'm reliant on others for water transportation, but happily, a few members of the redoubtable Team Old Fart are aficionados of paddle caches and have kayaks to spare. This weekend looked good for making the attempt, so I got together with Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott) and Rtmlee (a.k.a. Robbin a.k.a. Yoda Rob) to paddle out after this lonely, lonely cache.

There was no telling whether the cache might still be out there after all this time, and, if so, what condition we might find it in. All part of the challenge, of course, and most of the fun of geocaching is the journey. And this one proved quite the journey: a seven-plus mile round trip, counting a detour to go after a couple of other, considerably less lonely caches. Outbound, it wasn't too hot and we had a constant breeze, which made for a pleasant morning of it. Once we landed at Goblintown, we made our way to ground zero, and there we found the cache, quite readily and in remarkably good condition. (That's the container you see in the photo above.) We all scribbled our monikers on the log, snapped a few photos, and took a break to chow on some beef jerky and re-hydrate ourselves. Then it was back on the water to paddle over to Turkey Island for a couple of caches there. Now the wind stopped and the sun became oppressively hot — thank ye gods for sunscreen. But for us, mission accomplished.

Once back at Goosepoint marina, we hit the road and, never one to rest on our laurels, Diefenbaker and I stopped to find a few more on our way back to Greensboro. Best part of the trip back — dinner at The Celtic Fringe in Reidsville, which is one of my favorite dining spots anywhere. And lucky for me, while I was gone, a number of new caches have been placed around Greensboro, so I'll at least have a few more in the area to hunt.

Next stop: working on a new short story for an upcoming anthology. Never a dull moment.

Old Rodan on the way to "All Alone in Goblintown"

Rtmlee, a.k.a. Robbin, a.k.a. Yoda Rob

Old man getting a workout

Old man taking a much-needed breather

It's not too far now.

Mission accomplished. Checking out the contents of the cache.