Geocaching Worst Case Scenario…
I spent some time today reading through logs that people had written long ago about caches that I’ve recently found that I thought were either particularly difficult to find or somehow interesting or creative. The best so far was not actually a log on the geocaching website, but rather the full story behind a successful cache find. I find it ironic that the cacher has only found one more cache since the fateful excursion.
I went geocaching with my friend, Kevin, in Boulder Creek, CA. On the geocaching web site we found the coordinates of a geocache that was about 5 miles from his house. The description of the cache said that it was hidden in a burned-out, hollow redwood tree. We programmed the coordinates into my Garmin eTrex GPS receiver and set out late in the afternoon to find the cache. We ended up in Big Basin Redwoods State Park. We followed the main road and found a turn-out that was within 200 feet of our destination. The tall redwood trees blocked much of the satellite radio signals, so my GPS receiver could not get a very accurate reading of our location. The coordinates on the GPS were jumping around, so at best we knew we were within a 100-foot radius of the destination. Now all we had to do was find the burned-out, hollow tree. It turned out that nearly every other redwood in the area was burned-out and hollow… This is common in redwood forests where trees often survive fire that burns out the inner trunk and leaves the outer living wood unharmed, resulting in a living, hollow tree…
At any rate, the clue of a burned-out redwood did not help us narrow our search. There were a lot of trees in the 100-foot radius and it was starting to get dark. Searching by flashlight we eventually found a big tree that had a welcoming opening at its base. It opened into a small, cozy den that I could have stretched out and slept in. I crawled inside and far in the back I saw a small, brown plastic box lying neatly on the ground. “Ah ha! The cache!”. I grabbed the box and brought it outside. Geocache boxes are usually labeled “Geocache”, but this one only had a label with a some faded printing and some handwriting on it. It was late, the label was hard to read, and I was tired — I just wanted to get the dámn thing open, so I didn’t pay much attention to the label. The box did not have an obvious opening or hinge, so I started knocking on the sides and found that one panel was sort of loose. I pounded on it until I forced it into the box. I didn’t break it, but I don’t think it was meant to be opened this way. Something in the back of my mind was saying “Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!”, but my hands raced ahead and before I could think about what I was doing I was digging out some crumpled white tissue paper.
Suddenly I thought, “Oh, šhìt! This isn’t a geocache. This is someone’s dead pet!” I sniffed the box — well, it smelled clean enough — no odor of rotting pet hamster, parakeet, or frog. I took another look inside and found a plastic bag that had a white powder in it. Then it really hit me, “Oh, šhìt! This is someone!”. It was then that I decided I should take another crack at deciphering the label. I could make out faded print: “Diana So-and-so / Cremated 1996 / Rose Crematoria Services”.
Funny, too, that the abovementioned tree was the first one I looked in, too, before finding the cache elsewhere. I’ve always said that someone is going to find a dead body while geocaching…
Ooooooh, I’m so glad you didn’t look further in there.
Agree for 100%. You are absolutely right. You are absolutely right.