No Dead Weight in Salisbury

Another day on the geocaching trail for the usual suspects — friends Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott), Fishdownthestair (a.k.a. Natalie) and Old Bloody Rob (a.k.a. Rob) — again under the team name "No Dead Weight." Well, Scott was kinda dead, but then that's nothing new. Today, it was back to Salisbury, NC, which has been a reasonably fruitful destination for us on a number of previous caching trips. Unfortunately, we ended up having to log a few DNFs (Did Not Find), but we still came home with 17, I think it was, to our credit.

Hanging out with strange cats.

There were any remarkable gymnastic maneuvers or extreme terrain negotiations; just a full day of solid geocaching and a stellar lunch at The Smoke Pit in downtown Salisbury. It's turned out to be about our only regular lunch destination in town and, without question, one of our favorite BBQ restaurants anywhere. The pulled pork nachos and beef brisket plate are among the best treats you're ever gonna find. I'm pretty sure the aroma coming out of the kitchen is what heaven smells like.

One of the most entertaining caches we found was an old one — an ammo can that dates back to 2002. The original log is cleverly made, with a bunch of gravestones for finders to sign their names. Of course, after all this time, there are now many additional sheets included. The cache and its contents are, for sure, showing their age, but it's all still holding up. Hope it will for a long time to come for other geocachers to enjoy.

You probably shouldn't put these in your
spaghetti dinner tonight.

Several of the caches we found are part of a series called "Steeplecache," which are placed at or around the myriad downtown churches. Most of these were somewhat novel and generally fun to hunt —particularly since, at one of them, a nosy neighbor drove by a couple of times trying to figure out what a ragtag bunch of hoodlums carrying phones and GPS devices were doing skulking around an old church.

The only real frustrations of the day happened at a park with two hides that we spent massive amounts of time hunting, to no avail. We're reasonably certain those containers have gone the ways of the wind, and whether or not they'll be confirmed missing/replaced, who knows?

And so, it was a solid day of fun, exercise, and getting bitten by mosquitoes. Bloody Rob lived up to his epithet and shed a little blood. And we left ourselves a good many caches in the area to go back for on future trips.

Till next time... always a pleasure.

The original log from "Spooks R Us" (GC9556)

From Bringle Ferry Bridge to My Witty's End

In addition to making forward progress on my second Ameri-Scares novel (Michigan: The Dragon of Lake Superior), I managed to work in some fairly serious geocaching this weekend. Yesterday, Team Three Stooges, comprising Gerry (a.k.a. BigG7777), Bridget (a.k.a. Suntigres), and Old Rodan (a.k.a. me), headed down toward Salisbury, primarily to hunt a run of caches called "Road to Bringle Ferry Bridge." Of the 25 we hunted, we snagged 24. It was a nice bunch, with lots of different container and hide types. I most enjoyed a hike out to the hydroelectric dam at High Rock Lake, which involved negotiating a slightly precarious trail and a considerable terrain challenge getting to the cache. And we had the pleasure of meeting the cache owner—Ralphkitty—who popped by one of the caches to meet us.

After the Bringle Ferry Road run, we headed back into Salisbury for lunch at The Smoke Pit, which I had discovered with Old Rob and Ms. Fishdownthestair a few weeks back. I think I've found a new favorite BBQ restaurant, as their beef brisket, Texas-style green beans, and fried okra might best be described as heavenly. Hoooo!

After lunch, we took a walk around the downtown area to snag a few more hides, one in a nice old cemetery. I got back home in time to go to dinner with Ms. Brugger at Simply Thai in Elon, which is my favorite Thai restaurant—and apparently a lot of other people's as well, as the place was more packed than I've ever seen it. Still, most enjoyable, and then we retired to Ms. B.'s to watch Prometheus, which neither of us had seen in a while. It's okay, not great. But since we'd watched the director's cut of the original Alien the other night, we were kind of in a mood.

Today, friends Tom (a.k.a. Skyhawk63) and Linda (a.k.a. Punkins19) hosted a pre-Super Bowl geocaching event at their place in Brown Summit, which Ms. B. and I enjoyed immensely. A big, big crowd; good chili; and door prizes that included an autographed copy of West Virginia: Lair of the Mothman, which I donated to the cause. Following the event, Ms. B. and I rode out to Witty Road, north of Greensboro, so I could do some much-needed maintenance of that series of caches. Got 'er done.

My TV shows me one football game a year—the Super Bowl. Tonight, I've been sitting here watching it, and my TV is threatening to turn itself off.

Not spectacular. Getting back to writing Michigan: The Dragon of Lake Superior is bound to be more exciting.

"Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him, Suntigres." At the Evil Spirit of Gravity Hill

"Hey, don't fall and break your face, you dorky old fart!" I swear, that's what I heard Bridget yelling at me.

A conclave of birdies on the river. Great Blue Herons, cranes, seagulls, ducks, geese,
and I think a Pteranodon or two.

Part of the caching crew at the Pre-Superbowl Chili Event at Tom & Linda's place

Team No Dead Weight Rocks, Except....

Team No Dead Weight—Old Rodan (a.k.a. me), Old Bloody Rob (a.k.a. Rob), and Ms. Fishdownthestair (a.k.a. Natalie) ventured forth on the geocaching trail again today, this time around High Rock Lake and Salisbury, NC. Primary target: Eagle Point Preserve at High Rock Lake. We did grab a fair number on the way and then in Salisbury proper afterward. The trail at the preserve tried several times to reach up and drag us under prodigious amounts of water, but we persevered and conquered 25 caches before the end of the day.

Ms. Fish finds something fishy.

Victory didn't come easily at a few of the hides. The ones at which we figured we'd spend the least amount of time occasionally proved the toughest for us to find. That doesn't mean they were tough hides; only that we had a hard time finding them. One—a very obvious fake rock—eluded our gaze for lord knows how many passes up and down that particular embankment. Another, in downtown Salisbury, required a PAF (phone-a-friend) to help us find a very obvious real rock. Here we are, three experienced geocachers with nearly 18,000 cache finds between us, and we can't lay our hands without help on a container that screams its location to us. Mercy. At least we weren't alone in this. We received a call from a friend in Martinsville who couldn't find the cache even though he practically had his hands on it. On the other hand, on a few occasions, I spied something very subtle that led us where we needed to be, so at least part of the time, I felt like a real geocacher.

We did, at least, win at choosing a lunch destination. The Smoke Pit BBQ restaurant turned out to have some of the best beef brisket I've discovered since the late, lamented Blues BBQ Company in Roanoke, VA. Their fried okra is the best I've had since my mom's, as well. Highly recommended.

We found a few other cool things. An old church converted into a nice Italian restaurant. The only tree in North Carolina boasting vibrant fall foliage. A little park that provides spray paint cans so you can graffiti the place. After I got done with it, I think a new entry to the Black Lodge may have opened up. Fire walk with me, if you please.

And so, Team No Dead Weight has ridden again. We came, we saw, we rocked, except....

Possibly the only tree in North Carolina boasting brilliant fall foliage

Nice transformation—once an old church, now an Italian restaurant

House from Civil War days near downtown Salisbury

At times, Team No Dead Weight might as well have been hunting like so.

Old Farts in the Park

Yoda Rob, Old Rodan, Diefenbaker — 3/4 of Team Old Fart (photo by Robert Isenhour)

It felt like a regular reunion of old farts today, for Yoda Rob, Old Rob, Diefenbaker, and Old Rodan have not turned the woods dark and dismal for way too long a spell. The four of us made a day of it in Rowan County, mostly at the expansive Dan Nicholas Park, with a relatively brief incursion into the nearby town of Salisbury for a handful of (mostly) park-&-grab hides. I added another 23 caches to my total count, which now stands at 9,533. Hmm — 10K by the end of the year, I wonder...?

Is that the Team Old Fart logo etched into that tree?
Surely, none of us would do such a thing.
(Cough, Yoda, cough, Rob...)

We expected a miserably hot day, and make no mistake, the temperature got a good ways up there, but it was hardly as awful as it has been recently, especially in the humidity department. At times, we even had a pleasant breeze blowing. We found a good variety of cache hides—some micros, some big honking ammo cans, some well-camouflaged, some just for the numbers. Individually, each of the Old Farts made a good showing, with no one earning the Dead Weight Award today. Inside the park, we put in about a five-mile hike and found 13 of the 14 caches we hunted. There's a fair chance the one we didn't find is simply missing, but nonetheless it can be frustrating to look at the geocaching map and see among all those smileys one ugly, bitchy, flingin'-flangin' sucky unclaimed cache.

Interestingly...perhaps...one of the caches in the park was hidden at a picnic table in one of the camping areas, and it just so happened the campsite was occupied. I figured, what the hell, I'll go ask the attendant gentleman whether he'd mind if I searched his picnic table in hopes of finding a geocache. Happily, as it turns out, his wife and daughter were at least occasional geocachers, and he seemed rather excited that there was one literally under their noses they could hunt. I did manage to make a quick find, and it was kind of fun to be that unexpected visitor making what many might consider a weird-ass request.

March of the Old Farts (photo by
Robert Isenhour)

My favorites of the day were actually among the urban hides in Salisbury proper, one hiding inside a hole in a telephone pole, cleverly disguised; another residing some ways up in a tree next to a Cook-Out parking lot. I'm pretty sure the surprised folks having lunch in their car next to said tree had a good laugh at the Old Fart (yes, me) clambering up into those branches. (Yeah, that first step was a doozy.) Oddly, after we had found the cache, a young gentleman accosted us and asked whether we might have been looking for the geocache in the tree, as he believed it to be missing. We assured him it was still there because I had just signed the log, which seemed to surprise him, but, well, there it is.

Lunch — a rather late one — happened at East Coast Wings, where I ordered some wings that proved almost too hot for my palate, and that's saying something. Still, all very satisfying, as hot wings are one of my wee little vices.

Tonight, here comes episode 10 of Twin Peaks, and that should cap off what has been overall a satisfying day (and weekend). Next weekend, it's Songwriter Showcase at The Daily Grind in Martinsville, which means I need to practice my ass off this week to insure that my fingers and voice are in at least passable condition.

I know... the deuce, you say!

One of my favorite caches of the day, hidden in a hole in the telephone pole

Uhh... Yummy???

Old Farts — a slightly different view: Yoda Rob, Old Rob, Diefenbaker