Not that Minneapolis. The other one! I wish I could say I was unenthused by the courthouse because I was tired. I was tired, but I could also tell this was objectively not a great courthouse. Or even a good courthouse. I guess it’s not bad per se, but I could be wrong on that point.
I opted for the closest and easiest cache. That was not a hard decision, since there were only two in the town proper. The local history museum “hooked me up” (as they say in the vulgar argot). I don’t know what the hint was supposed to mean, but I did find the cache in a hole in a rock standing out front. It took a few minutes longer than I thought it should have. Maybe it would have gone quicker if I had gotten the hint, but that didn’t matter. I found it, signed it, and decided it was time to get a little rest. The next day would begin my long trek home, and I still had a few more counties to hit on the way out of the state. Resting now would make for a less harrowing trip upon the morrow. I slept for a few hours in front of the museum, sheltered by the darkness and the sparse population of a tiny town. I awoke still in darkness, my teeth chattering me awake. I shook the cobwebs from my head and cranked the heat up, hoping to regain my internal warmth reserves. Warm air pressed into me as I set off on the road to…
Geocaching While Black 