Old Places, Old Friends

“It’s in the trees! It’s coming!”

Good friends and geocaching partners, Gerry (a.k.a. BigG7777) & Bridget (a.k.a. Suntigres), late of nearby Kernersville, moved to Florida last year, which certainly made Brugger and me sad, at least for our sakes. I know Gerry & Bridget couldn’t be happier with their place down there, and that’s what matters. But since they recently came back to Kville for one of their regular visits, Ms. B. and I spent an enjoyable evening with them last night — at a respectable distance! — with delicious appetizers, pizza, and a few bottles of excellent wine. The night was pleasantly chilly, so we sat around their firepit enjoying the company and goodies until the old people — one of them, at least — began to fade a bit.

This morning, I hit the highway and met the mad Floridians at a lovely little cache where we found a much-needed helping hand. This one earned favorite points for creativity, gruesomeness, and humor. From there, we moved southward a bit through Randolph County, which has seen a veritable explosion of new caches in the past few months, largely courtesy of one labchic1. The majority of them are park & grab hides — meaning they are quick and easy enough to park, jump out, grab the cache, sign the log, and move on in short order. Happily, today, we found ourselves in any number of appealing settings, several of them old and haunted (my favorite kind, believe it or not), including a nice old graveyard. (Sadly, we failed to find the cache at the graveyard; it is likely missing.)

As for settings, I was most taken with the remains of a gas station, which likely went back 50 to 75 years; the crumbling skeleton of an old mansion (oddly, with a decomposing truck trailer parked in front of it); and an old plant of some sort right on the Deep River in Coleridge, where Bridget and I had once unsuccessfully hunted a cache placed by Nefarious Beast Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott). I once returned to that plant at Nefarious Beast Diefenbaker’s behest and replaced his missing cache. That replacement eventually went missing, and the cache was archived. So, today, I quite enjoyed returning to the location to hunt a new cache, which we did find, though it took quite a dedicated search.

Gerry and Bridget will be returning to Florida this coming week, so it was great beyond great to spend some quality time with them, which has been in too short supply since they moved. I so hope that in the coming year the pandemic will subside sufficiently to permit less distance between us when we are in close proximity. Given the positive results of this past week’s election, I feel there’s somewhat more reason to have hope on that front.

And so let us hope.

Bridget: “I’m telling you, I SAW a dreadful apparition.” Gerry: “That was just Mark.”

Rest rooms are in the back.

Haunted

I expect the trailer is haunted too.

One of us, at least, is very happy.

When the Stars Came to Town and Others

Suntigres on location

Over the past few decades, quite a few movies have been made here in North Carolina's Piedmont region — several being of the spooky persuasion — including the upcoming The Disappointments Room, starring Kate Beckinsale, Gerald McRaney, Michaela Conlin, and Lucas Til, directed by D. J. Caruso (Disturbia), and written by Caruso and Wentworth Miller (Stoker, Prison Break). Other titles include Hellraiser III, Children of the Corn II, and The Killers Three. The thriving film industry has been a boon for the state's coffers, countless businesses, and numerous otherwise economically depressed communities, but — most unfortunately — our current legislature, which is composed of some of the densest boneheads this planet has seen since the days of the Pachycephalosaurus, has opted to kill the tax incentive programs that brought so many productions out our way. My contempt for these vile cretins hardly stems from this issue alone, but thank your lucky stars, I have other reasons for writing this blog today. I'm writing because — you guessed it — a nice little series of geocaches recently came out that commemorates some of the eclectic cinematic treasures that have come out of the North Carolina's Piedmont, and today was the perfect day to go after them, and quite a few others, with my frequent caching partner, Ms. Suntigres (a.k.a. Bridget).

There are three caches placed around the little town of Ramseur, located along the Deep River River in Randolph County, where scenes from The Disappointments Room, Children of the Corn II, and The Killers Three were filmed, each cache bearing the name of one of those films and containing specific information that lead to a final cache called "When the Stars Came to Town" (GC5NZ2X). I've never seen The Killers Three, and I don't think I've ever seen Children of the Corn II, but you can bet I am now inclined to check out both of them — as well as The Disappointments Room when it comes out in September. Ramseur is a picturesque, tiny community that has retained most of the finest — and, unfortunately, some of the worst — aspects of mid-20th-century southern America, a situation too often brought on by prolonged economic hardship. However, The Disappointments Room promises to showcase the community's most atmospheric and character-laden side, which I have been fortunate enough to experience first-hand during my years of geocaching. It was a true pleasure to return there today and complete the "When the Stars Came to Town" series, which was put together by the classy and altogether mysterious lady known as "Sull427."

Our run through Randolph County today proved a good one in all respects, not only because of the "Stars" series — which was, in fact, the highlight of the day — but because we found a wealth of high-quality caches without a single DNF (Did Not Find) log, including a particular hide that took me into one of my favorite geocaching locations: the deep, dark pits of hell that run underneath the daylight world that most of you probably prefer. Throw in a fabulous Mexican lunch and, at the end of the day, drinks at a nice little place called The Smokehouse Bistro in Liberty. To me, this is pretty much what geocaching is all about.

See you at the movies.

Something's...coming....

Oh... It's just that dude.

Suntigres's screen test?

Hydro Fox

Bridge over the Polecat Creek, Randolph County, NC, seen from near "Hydro Fox" (GC3TP19)

Nice afternoon of caching with Bridget "Suntigres" Langley down in Randolph County. A few new ones came out today, mostly tribute caches to Christopher "Ranger Fox" Hall, who has joined the ranks of those scant few geocachers who have logged over 30,000 cache finds. Bridget and I met up in Liberty and booked over toward Randleman, where we discovered a very scenic and marginally creepy area around Polecat Creek (yep) — plus a couple of caches, of course. We ended up hiking what started as a little gravel drive and then became a windy little trail that led to the dam near Creekridge Country Road. There we discovered a ramshackle house on stilts that doesn't appear to be much longer for the earth, as well as a mysterious little place that, in appearance, wasn't unlike the cabin in Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead. We didn't hear any ghostly voices, though. Just some dogs barking at the ghosts.

I'm nowhere near 30,000 caches and probably never will be, not in this lifetime, but as of today, my total count is 4,925. Five-thousand, here I come.

Today would have been my 26th wedding anniversary. I'm very pleased that life has taken me in different directions than I would have ever expected all those years ago, but there are a lot of good memories from that long marriage. I hope it's mutual.

And it's to bed.

Click on the images to enlarge.

The dam on Polecat Creek

Hey Bridget, I'm not sure that's the world's safest place to stand!

Dude contemplating wormholes at "Worm Rock" (GC3B5K6). They would explain a lot, wouldn't they?

Faith Rock

An almost uncannily warm January day, so I spent the early part of it geocaching in Franklinville, a little community about 25 miles south of here, in Randolph County. It used to be a thriving textile town; not much left of it now, though the remnants of the impressive old cotton mill still stand on the banks of the Deep River. The trail along the river is quite scenic and takes you to Faith Rock, a spectacular bluestone wall that towers over the river along its southern banks. The plaque at the left is hard to read (it's from 1928 itself), but it tells of an incident in 1781, in which local resident Andrew Hunter ran afoul of the notorious Tory leader David Fanning. Facing execution, Hunter stole Fanning's prized mare, Red Doe, and made his escape by plunging down Faith Rock into the river.

Once you've seen Faith Rock up close, you understand what a feat that had to have been—even allowing for some embellishment of Revolutionary War history. I mostly clambered around the top portion of the outcropping as I was making my way toward "Don't Fall in the River—The Revenge" (GC19H1Z), and had I taken a bad step, I could have shed a lot of skin skidding down the slope.

Also along the river, a bit farther east, one may find the remains of at least one fishing weir built by Native Americans, possibly as early as the 17th century. Weirs were v-shaped rock dams used for trapping fish. Alas, today, the water level was too high for much of the weir near the spot where I was caching to be visible.

Once again, caching has brought me to a neat, historical corner of the map I otherwise never would have seen. Always nice.

This evening, a gathering of strange friends at Casa de Damned Rodan. I'm cooking chili, and so far, there's every indication it'll turn out deadly. Perhaps I'll post the recipe. I even cleaned the house, but I must confess, the tenacity of filth is my most hated thing on earth. No, I didn't actually put any filth in the chili. Not yet, anyway.

Notes on the history of the Deep River may be found here.

Click on photos to enlarge.

Looking down at the river from Faith Rock

Across the river from Faith Rock

Picnic tables for trolls?

View of the old cotton mill from the footbridge across the river