Das Boot

I was off work today for Martin Luther King's birthday, so Bloody Rob (retired and almost always available for geocaching, the miserable old rat) and I headed over to the American Tobacco Trail in Wake County to finish the "Boot Print" geoart, which we had begun back in October (see "Getting the Boot," October 16, 2016). Dummy coordinates form a boot print on the map; to get the actual coordinates for the caches in the pattern, you must correctly answer a question on each cache listing page about Wake County Parks. There are 40 caches in total, which we've picked up on three separate hiking trips to the ATT. I was hoping at least a couple of the irregular Old Farts and Cupdaisy might join us today, but it was not to be. Thus, we had to tangle with all kinds of monstrous critters, such as the one you see to the left, all by our aging lonesomes — and tell me that big old beast right there wouldn't spoil your picnic. Our cache hider, the dastardly and devious NCBiscuit, a.k.a. Linda, concealed many of the caches in the series in such fashion, some of them even scarier than a big-ass fire ant (such as this mean old rotten bastard).

On a sad note, I understand that Linda's faithful canine caching companion, Miss Biscuit (for whom she adopted her geocaching handle), just passed away. Miss Biscuit was a constant companion to her, I know, so I send out my deepest sympathies. I could never get along without a houseful of critters, and I know how hard it is to lose them. Adieu, Biscuit!

My appreciation for a clever and fun series of caches.

Getting the Boot

Team Two and a Half Men

Actually, we only got part of the boot. The geoart you see in the photo is in Wake County, NC, along the American Tobacco Trail. To get the coordinates for each individual cache in the boot print pattern, you must answer a question on the cache listing page about Wake County Parks. Once done, you hike out the trail to claim the caches. There are 40 caches in the pattern, and today, Rob "Robgso," Debbie "Cupdaisy," and Old Man Rodan headed out after a bunch of them. We picked up a dozen in the series, as well as a fair number of other caches along the trail. It was another damn near 80-degree day in October, so we got pretty warm out there, but at the end of it all, we'd put in about six miles, with numerous side trips and some backtracking (thanks to old people leaving their hiking sticks behind); logged 18 caches; and found things like jewel-shelled turtles, giant spiders, horses in pine trees, and pigs in lamp posts.

Most notably, on our journey, we engaged ourselves in a spirited discourse about whether a hissy fit or a conniption ranks higher in the hierarchy of tantrums. We fairly readily came to the conclusion that the conniption is certainly of higher caliber than the mere hissy fit, and our results were confirmed by a Google search, which indicated the question was actually settled about nine years ago. Well, sometimes there's something to be said for reinventing the wheel.

Our final destination before returning home was Carolina Brewery in Pittsboro, where we procured satisfying vittles and liquid refreshment. While I was driving us back, I told Rob that if I fell asleep to wake me up when we got home. Happily, he did this thing.

Big.

A very old tobacco barn out in the woods, not far off the trail

Sparkly sea turtle in the woods

L: Cupdaisy finds a butterfly; R: a long stretch of the American Tobacco Trail

Little bacons in a lightpole

Wicked, Creepy Critters

Wicked made me right happy. Kimberly had quite liked it when she saw it in London a while back, and she really, really, really wanted me to see it too. Being a good girlfriend and all (I might just keep her), for our respective birthday presents, she got us tickets to last night's show at the Durham Performing Arts Center. No argument from the ol' man.

DPAC is an excellent facility; I don't think there's a bad seat in the house. Ours were in the very first row of the third level, which had us perched at a dizzying altitude smack in front of the stage. Add a couple of glasses of wine, and the acrophobia set in with disturbing and strangely enjoyable intensity. The performance was excellent, the stage production easily the most elaborate I've ever seen (Brugger tells me it was even more so in London). Watching The Wizard of Oz on TV is one of my most profound childhood memories (and I was lucky enough to catch it on the big screen in the late 60s). My first two or three experiences with it as a wee lad were incomplete, however; I just couldn't make it past the initial appearance of ye wicked witch. Come that big old billow of smoke and Margaret Hamilton's cackling countenance, young Mark said, "Nope!" and went off to bed. When I finally did watch the film start to finish, I ended up stunned and absolutely in love with it (though I never got all the fuss about Judy Garland; so not a favorite). Wicked, by and large, made for a most appealing back story, though I confess, had they asked me — and why don't they, after all? — I might have modified a detail here and there, just to tighten the ties to the original tale. Overall, I enjoyed the music, and the orchestra at DPAC rocked, to say the least. I'll give this one five out of five broomsticks.

DPAC is located in downtown Durham, adjacent to the American Tobacco historic district, which in years past was a major Lucky Strike manufacturing facility. The old factories, warehouses, and train station have been converted to a picturesque shopping/dining/office mecca, which we wandered about for a while before the show (there are caches). After the show, we had a late outdoor dinner at Cuban Revolution, whose fare made us exceedingly happy. I had a delicious Ropa Vieja — shredded flank steak in a spicy tomato-based stew of onions, peppers, garlic and adobo over rice, topped with chopped lettuce, tomato, and onion — and Brugger had Crustini con Hummus and Spinach and Cheese Empanadas. I'll give 'em an A+ all around, for food, service, and atmosphere.

At the office, I've accumulated more vacation time than I can carry over past my upcoming anniversary (methinks I may be working too much!), so I'm taking a couple of days off for some belated birthday reveling. This morning, it was up early and out the door for Danville, where a bunch of relatively new caches have been calling me with some insistence. First, Anglers' Park, for a pleasant four-mile hike and half a dozen caches, then a few random locations around town for another half a dozen. I particularly enjoyed one called Creepy Creatures (GC3FP2G), which was full of... you guessed it... creepy creatures. Some of the big critters in the container are what I consider the optimum size to instill honest-to-god brain-searing horror could such things be real. Too real, though, were all the damned creepy ticks, which are out in force now — especially the near-microscopic baby deer ticks, which aren't any bigger than the head of a pin. At the end of it all, unfazed by the ticks and abundant poison ivy, I booked over to Ringgold for an excellent barbecue dinner at The Corner Cafe, owned and operated by caching compadres Laura and Keith McCoy. How you say... yummy.

I sleep now. After all, I'm a hell of a lot older now than I was last week at this time.

Click on the photos to enlarge.

Brugger dressed for a serious night out.

A creepy critter?

Damned Rodan at a little graveyard in the woods near Anglers' Park

Yeah, creepy.

A happy little critter I encountered on the trail.

An unfortunate little critter, less happy than the other one I encountered. So sad.