Take a Stalk on the Wild Side

Today, I had the pleasure of running into more fellow geocachers out on the trail than I usually see at a geocaching event. My newest geocache, “Take a Walk on the Wild Side” — GCA551P (see “Take a Walk on the Wild Side” February 21, 2023), was published early this morning, and shortly thereafter, friend Old Rob posted a DNF (Did Not Find) log. Now, Old Rob is anything but an inexperienced geocacher; in fact, many of you already know that he is one of my regular caching partners (and anyone I allow to go geocaching with me must at least be able to find his way to his own front door; so far, Old Rob has not failed at this). I thought he might have spied the cache from the ground but opted not to climb after it, since reaching it does present a moderate terrain challenge.

No; he just never saw the thing.

So, to satisfy myself that the cache had not gone missing before anyone had even hunted it, I drove out to the Osprey Trail and hoofed it out to ground zero. Sure enough, all was well with the cache. (I may have to rethink Old Rob’s geocaching qualifications.) I verified the coordinates were okay and started to head back to the Rodan Mobile when I saw a familiar figure on the trail heading for GZ. It was friend Rhodorooter (a.k.a. Dave), en route for a possible first-to-find. He checked out GZ for a while, without success, so I finally guided him to a location where he could better get an eyeball on his quarry. Once he had the location locked down, he performed the minor acrobatics necessary to procure the cache, but he very sportingly decided that, since I’d been on site and given him a substantial nudge, he would decline the first-to-find honors. After that, we headed back to our respective vehicles and bid each other adieu.

Later this afternoon, I decided to go out on another maintenance run at one of my night caches (I’ve been on a vigorous cache maintenance jag for a few weeks now) on the Laurel Bluff Trail, not too far from the Osprey. As I passed the Osprey Trailhead, I saw about eight vehicles parked along the road, a few of which I recognized as belonging to geocachers of my acquaintance. So, I pulled over, parked the car, and trucked on down the trail to see if I might catch any of this crew in the act of finding my new cache. Indeed... not far from the cache site, I saw them in the distance. So, using a certain amount of stealth, I positioned myself on a hillside above the cache, snapped a few shots of the crew at work, and texted the photos to them. This, as I suspected it might, inspired a few exclamations of surprise.

In the photo above & left, you’ll see the caching crew going about their business, blithely unaware of the mad horror-writing-geocaching fiend photographing them from afar.

So, it was my pleasure to stalk friends Night-Hawk (a.k.a. Tom), Canter Girl (a.k.a. Jeannie), Skyhawk63 (a.k.a. Tom), Punkins19 (a.k.a. Linda), and — Ha! — Old Rob (a.k.a. Old Rob) as they made their successful FTF effort. From there, all but Rob were moving on to other caches, so he and I headed back to the trailhead, and from there, I headed on to the Laurel Bluff Trail to perform any required maintenance on my night cache, “Have You Seen the Yellow Sign?” (GC9KG68). None needed to speak of. Anyway, on my way back from there, I then ran into friends MWFerrell65 and dgnc, from the NC Triangle, along the trail. We yakked for a bit, and then I made my way back to the car and Casa di Rodan.

After a long weekend doing artsy-fartsy things in Hillsborough, Ms. B. returned home this afternoon, so now the household cats have their mom to bother, rather than just dad. What a time!

Panoramic view of the host for "Take a Walk on the Wild Side" (That's not the cache on the log;
that's my coffee mug.)

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

The Dweller Goes Missing and States of Confusion

Whenever I know in advance that a geocacher—or group of cachers—intends to hunt one of my night caches, I oftentimes go out walking with them. For my part, I get to check on the general state of things and enjoy a night in the woods; the hunters have the advantage of the cache owner being on hand to steer them completely wrong along the way. Oh, did I say "advantage"? I might have meant "handicap."

PHASE I
Last week, friends Natalie (a.k.a fishdownthestair), Dave (a.k.a. rhodorooter), and Tom (a.k.a. Skyhawk63) had the notion to go after "Dweller in Darkness: The Missing" (GC3G3N7), and, per the norm, I agreed to go walkies on the trail with them. Much to his chagrin, Mr. Skyhawk forgot to show up (shame on Mr. Skyhawk!), but Natalie and Dave had their priorities in order. We hit the Reedy Fork trail, the hunters seeking the glowing fire tacks that would lead them to their destination, while I ended up replacing a number of said tacks that had gone missing.

Stage 1 turned out a little worse for wear and needed some work. I made the necessary reparations, and our intrepid adventurers proceeded after the final stage. Or would have, had there been a final stage out there to proceed to.

Holy shit... I knew Hurricane Michael, some weeks back, had brought more water than I had ever seen in this area, but I had no idea how severe the flooding had been along the Greensboro watershed trails. It was... severe. To totally wash out Dr. Zann's final resting place, the water had to have risen at least 10 feet above the norm. Ground zero was a horror show. And the cache was gone.

Having failed to anticipate the extent of the maintenance required, I had not brought any kind of replacement for the final stage. So, after an exhaustive but ultimately futile search for the good Dr. Zann's remains, we cried uncle and made our way back to that hideous train wreck called civilization.

Now, friend Natalie, devout geocacher and fellow Halloweenie, happened to own a few items that might facilitate the repairs of the Dweller in Darkness, and she was kind enough to donate them to the cause. So on last Sunday, she and I went out in a driving rain to recreate the cache, complete with a new resting place for the good Dr. Zann.

Thus, last night, I met Mr. Skyhawk, his memory somewhat recovered, and Dr. Dave back at the Reedy Fork trailhead to attempt another encounter with the Dweller. This time, all was right with the world, our valiant hunters claimed the cache, and we all headed to a very crowded Uptown Charlie's to meet Skyhawk's lovely wife, Linda (a.k.a. Punkins19) for piles and piles of fabulous chicken wings and brew.

That was Phase I of last night's geocaching adventure. I will hereby explain that friend Dave, not only an intrepid hunter, is the creator of several daunting puzzle caches—a series called "States of Confusion"—recently foisted on the local geocaching community. Let it be known I dislike puzzle caches, at least those that require computer time (most do). I am on the computer all day, five days out of seven, at the office. I write my own stuff during the evening. Every evening. I tend to be on the damned computer far more than I care to be. Geocaching is my means of getting the hell off the computer and out in the wild to hunt some entertaining shit. Having to spend computer time prior to that outing makes me ornery. Dave's puzzles are not as bleeping impossible as many, but they aren't exactly simple or obvious. They require computer work. Oy vey.

During our revelries last evening, one of Dave's new puzzle caches published. And lo, it was not far from my route home. There was no way I'd be able to solve the puzzle on my own before spending that dreaded computer time. But I had it in my head that it would sure be entertaining to somehow find that cache.

PHASE II
In my 10+ years of geocaching, I have been known to occasionally find caches via unorthodox means, pure chance, or a combination of both. In an effort to procure useful information vis-à-vis the puzzle, Skyhawk, Punkins, and I threatened our friend, the CO; whacked him mercilessly upside the head; even withheld a plate of chicken wings from him; but he refused to talk. We left dinner without one iota of additional insight, and the CO laughing at our vulgar ineptitude.

From there, I had to make a stop for a groceries, during which time I grumbled to anyone who would listen about the evils of puzzle caches. I figured when I got home, I'd see what kind of forward progress I might make with the puzzle. However, I knew, from the placement of the puzzle cache icon on the map, the physical container had to reside within a two-mile radius. The cache page included an explicit hint, which mirrored one of Dave's previous hides. On a lark, I decided to return to that particular area and examine a handful of appropriate hosts. Mais alas, rien. Well, it was a worthy attempt. Then, as I drove in defeat back toward Chez Rodan, I saw on the geocaching map another area that might... might... be promising, just off the main road at a somewhat secluded location. I pulled in, and immediately saw a police vehicle parked near just the kind of host I sought. I thought, you know, if I were self-respecting puzzle cache, that was precisely where I might hide myself....

Aaaand.....

There it was! The cache! Just to be certain I hadn't found some other unpublished hide, I verified with the CO that I was where I was supposed to be. And so... it was done. The perfect combination of well-honed skill, razor-sharp deductive thinking, and pure, blind luck.

Okay, so it was all three of these things except maybe the first two.

I fully expected Officer of the Law to accost me to figure just what the heck I was doing. But nope. Officer of the Law remained parked and left me alone. Go figure. Anyway, for good measure, I determined how to solve the puzzle once I got home. Well, mostly. A couple of niggling details never quite came clear. Damned puzzle caches....

Don't perpetuate these monstrosities, good people. Just don't.

The Witch's Woods

On the heels of my most recent geocache hides, "The Curse of Lillian Gadwick" (GC705N3) and "Oren Grey" (GC705P2), I have set up a new night cache, called "The Witch's Woods," based on the same faux legend of witchcraft and deviltry I concocted for the former two caches (see my blog entry, "The Curse of Lillian Gadwick"). It's a fairly lengthy hike — at least three miles round trip — along the Osprey Trail at Lake Townsend in north Greensboro, but unlike at least one of the aforementioned caches, no strenuous and/or hazardous acrobatics are required to retrieve the container. No, the real hazard is venturing into the witch's territory, which begins at a long footbridge across the treacherous marsh and extends along the lake, where taking accurate coordinates is a damn near impossible task, and strange things gibber and leer at you from the deep darkness beyond the water.

Hopefully, this one will be published within the next few days, and any number of daring souls will go forth to meet their fates....

Addendum: Went out after dark to check out my reflector trail and shot a bit of video. Pardon the shaky cam.