Llano is a sleepy little town. That pretty much sums it up. It was a bit annoying that everything was closed, but I guess that’s to be expected on a Sunday morning. Even the town coffee shop was closed. That happens? I have to remind myself that in small town America, it does. I will also add that everybody I encountered was pretty friendly, but then again, I think it was pretty obvious that I’m not from around there. The only black person I saw the entire time I was there was a kid in a group photograph of their third grade class. I barely even saw anybody Hispanic, either. That said, I had two interactions of any note, one in Llano, one outside…
The first on was amazingly banal. I was looking at that LPC I mentioned yesterday (I checked the logs and it’s been muggled before) with my trusty clipboard (I almost left it at another cache on the other side of the river so I”m glad I went back for it). When I looked over my shoulder, there was a lady looking to park in the space I was currently standing in. I moved to let her in, lamp skirt raised in my hands. After she parked, she apologized for interrupting my repairs. I waved it off, confident that the clipboard had already paid for itself in illusion creation.
The second was slightly less so. So outside of town (actually, in a next town over), I was picking a cache up at a marker for a historic salt mine (“used by the CSA,” he read, grimacing to himself). The hint read “Pull the wire.” The find was actually in a tree, but the app had a different mind about it… So I follow the app to the coordinates (I didn’t think I’d need the GPS since there were so few places to hide it at this location) and it takes me to a twelve foot road sign that’s actually about 50 feet away from the aforementioned tree. I read the hint and start looking around. The only place there’s a hollow or anything where there could be a wire is a hollow crossbar. I take a close look and there’s something sticking off the edge of on of them. Found it (I thought)! But it’s 12 feet up and I don’t have a ladder or anything. But I’m here and, now that I’ve “found” it, I’m not going to let it go. So I backed the car up on the grass to the sign and stood up on the trunk. I’m reaching up, feeling around (which is when I discovered that my “wire” was actually a bit of unshaven metal on the edge of the crossbar) when a man and his wife driving by on the side road in their truck stop.
“Can we help you?” the husband asked?
“No, thank you. I’m fine!” I replied from the top of the trunk.
“Don’t you steal that sign!” I did not expect that response. I mean, seriously? Who is going to steal a road sign in the middle of the day?
“Hah! If only!” I wish I had that kind of energy!
“Well, we took down your license plate.” This is where it really dawned on me what he meant.
“Whatever!” I gave him a thumbs up, when I really wanted to to flip him the bird.
Who the hell is this guy?, I thought. Where does he get off getting in my business? Who does he think he is? Then I stepped back, turned myself down a notch, and took another look at the situation. Alright, if I had seen someone standing up on their trunk fiddling with a road sign, I might have reason to be suspicious, too. I know that I’m not up to no good, but he doesn’t. Alright, maybe I shouldn’t be quite so judgmental. Of course, thanks to the bad app direction, the entire thing was pointless.
The real takeaways from this (rambling as it is): watch out for the app because sometimes it can tell you wrong. And I guess watching out for muggles actually has a point. So there’s that, too.
Anyway, I found it and started on down the road to…