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weaselmomMission accomplished on getting some key gear Saturday! REI parted us from a giant swack of cash in return for some excellent hiking boots with insoles and a high-tech telescoping walking stick for me, and a nifty olive green carrying bag for S. The GPS unit made out like a bandit, with several accessories purchased specifically for its benefit: a miniature boombox to play Barry White CDs to put the GPS in the mood, a tiny handheld massager to help the GPS relax after a hard day of getting us within 40 feet of a buried Altoids tin, and a solar-powered mineral water chiller/mister in case the GPS gets thirsty or its screen gets dusty.
Today we decided to strike out a little north and west, with 4 gcs lined up in order of distance. The first was a nature trail in a neighborhood which gave us no trouble, except this one Hellhound roared at us from behind his fence and would surely have eaten us alive if he could have gotten to us. S found the gc and we took a little silver charm and left another little charm. I didn't get to help retrieve the cache because you had to go down a yes, steep, and yes, silty hill. Mind you, this hill was only about 5 feet high. But I just could not do it. I am too terrified that I will blow my knees clear into the next time zone, and not even new hiking boots or a walking stick could get me past the fear.
The next gc was a microcache with just a log scroll in an incredibly high-traffic area. It had just been maintained this morning because the previous hunter DNF, so we were first to sign the new log. I hope we were sufficiently ninja-like and nobody saw exactly what we were doing, or it will need to be replaced again. That's what you get for hiding it in the middle of a busy parking lot.
The third gc was practically a repeat of the dreaded Poverty Bay, but the new boots and stick really helped me on the descending trail. Although it was just wide enough for one person (leading to general hilarity when a couple with two ginormous dogs wanted to pass us going the other way), at least no blackberries or nettles encroached upon the trail. The trouble is that (as we had been warned) the leafy canopy blocked a lot of the signal. S bushwacked up an extremely spider-intensive, ivy-covered hillside because that's where the GPS led him, Barry White notwithstanding, and he still couldn't find it. Tonight we re-read the log notes and realized that the signal is simply wrong in that area this time of year--it sends you 40-80 feet off course. We may go back and try it again later. The important thing about this hunt even though we DNF was that two months ago I would have been no more capable of going up and down steep trails than I would have been of flying. Granted, at one point a heart attack might have been welcome because then somebody *else* would have had to carry me up that mofo hill, but I made it myself. Twice.
I've saved the best for last. This was a park I didn't know existed, just south of the airport. The lovely, wide, level, paved trail led through cool and shady woods and was lined with blackberry bushes heavy with ripe fruit. I deserve a medal for exercising restraint and not gobbling all the warm, sweet, juicy, fat berries I could glom onto. This almost made up for the monster brambles on our first day! We needed to do just the right amount of hiking to get to the cache, and we didn't take or leave anything because we didn't have anything to match the aviation theme. We were *so* close to the airport and *right* under the flight path of landing planes--we could practically look straight up and count the rivets on the undercarriage. Sure, it was loud, but here's the really cool thing: Several seconds after each plane went by, the vortices from its engines swirled through the air right above the treetops. Wind whooshed by from every direction like some giant, invisible Air Elemental. If we hadn't read about this phenomenon in the log notes in advance, I would have been seriously weirded out. It was a great way to end the day, though.
Not sure when we'll get back out, as we're pretty busy the first part of next week. I'd like to break double digits on our finds before the weekend, though. But even a DNF hunt is still great exercise!
Today we decided to strike out a little north and west, with 4 gcs lined up in order of distance. The first was a nature trail in a neighborhood which gave us no trouble, except this one Hellhound roared at us from behind his fence and would surely have eaten us alive if he could have gotten to us. S found the gc and we took a little silver charm and left another little charm. I didn't get to help retrieve the cache because you had to go down a yes, steep, and yes, silty hill. Mind you, this hill was only about 5 feet high. But I just could not do it. I am too terrified that I will blow my knees clear into the next time zone, and not even new hiking boots or a walking stick could get me past the fear.
The next gc was a microcache with just a log scroll in an incredibly high-traffic area. It had just been maintained this morning because the previous hunter DNF, so we were first to sign the new log. I hope we were sufficiently ninja-like and nobody saw exactly what we were doing, or it will need to be replaced again. That's what you get for hiding it in the middle of a busy parking lot.
The third gc was practically a repeat of the dreaded Poverty Bay, but the new boots and stick really helped me on the descending trail. Although it was just wide enough for one person (leading to general hilarity when a couple with two ginormous dogs wanted to pass us going the other way), at least no blackberries or nettles encroached upon the trail. The trouble is that (as we had been warned) the leafy canopy blocked a lot of the signal. S bushwacked up an extremely spider-intensive, ivy-covered hillside because that's where the GPS led him, Barry White notwithstanding, and he still couldn't find it. Tonight we re-read the log notes and realized that the signal is simply wrong in that area this time of year--it sends you 40-80 feet off course. We may go back and try it again later. The important thing about this hunt even though we DNF was that two months ago I would have been no more capable of going up and down steep trails than I would have been of flying. Granted, at one point a heart attack might have been welcome because then somebody *else* would have had to carry me up that mofo hill, but I made it myself. Twice.
I've saved the best for last. This was a park I didn't know existed, just south of the airport. The lovely, wide, level, paved trail led through cool and shady woods and was lined with blackberry bushes heavy with ripe fruit. I deserve a medal for exercising restraint and not gobbling all the warm, sweet, juicy, fat berries I could glom onto. This almost made up for the monster brambles on our first day! We needed to do just the right amount of hiking to get to the cache, and we didn't take or leave anything because we didn't have anything to match the aviation theme. We were *so* close to the airport and *right* under the flight path of landing planes--we could practically look straight up and count the rivets on the undercarriage. Sure, it was loud, but here's the really cool thing: Several seconds after each plane went by, the vortices from its engines swirled through the air right above the treetops. Wind whooshed by from every direction like some giant, invisible Air Elemental. If we hadn't read about this phenomenon in the log notes in advance, I would have been seriously weirded out. It was a great way to end the day, though.
Not sure when we'll get back out, as we're pretty busy the first part of next week. I'd like to break double digits on our finds before the weekend, though. But even a DNF hunt is still great exercise!
