Yesterday, we had planned to hit a few nearby counties, but we decided we weren’t feeling up to the road. Instead, we took in a movie, and afterward, I pulled up the map because I still needed a cache for the day. I also flipped through my notification emails and saw that a few had dropped while I wasn’t paying attention. One of them was a reasonable distance away, so we all shot off for a new FTF. It was simple enough—a magnetic plate on the back of a junction box. It was quickly pulled, signed, and returned; but it was the source of a moment of consternation. The junction box was in a small patch of rough area between two houses in an older upper-class suburb—the kind of place I could easily imagine a homeowner getting upset about people being too close to their property. I’m already wary of front-yard caches. This one was the same, but double. At least it was easy enough with no muggle interference.
Other than that, we’ve been mostly considering new counties. A couple of days ago, we hit a pair of Events—one for dinner and one for dessert. It turns out that there’s a new souvenir opportunity from the Mothership. No exciting stories or sagas to report.
Geocaching While Black 