Be It Ever So Humble

New caches pop up in Austin as new cachers appear.  As someone who has been doing a streak since the beginning of time (it feels like), I appreciate those new caches very much.  I’m lucky to live in a cache-rich county, but at this point, I’ve pretty much found all the low-hanging fruit here.  Most of what’s left in town is either super difficult, a long hike, or both.  It’s not uncommon for me to drive to a neighboring county (sometimes Williamson, sometimes Bastrop, occasionally Hays) to grab my daily cache.  Therefore, every time a new cache shows up only a mile or two away from home, I appreciate that someday, I’ll be able to have an easy afternoon after work, popping over to the cache and popping home just as easily. 

A couple of days ago, I had one of those days.  A new planned neighborhood filled with townhomes and apartment complexes has been sprouting up for a while, and a newer cacher has placed a few caches around the area.  I got one of them a few weeks ago with the girls (and had some complaints about that one). Now I went for another of them on the way home from work.  I drove into the neighborhood, parked at a very close parking spot, and dismounted from the car.  The immediate area instantly put a bad taste in my mouth.  It was a green space between the sidewalks leading to apartment doors and stairs.  Joggers and dog walkers were walking to and fro.  Based on the provided hint (“rock”), the most likely place for it was in a rock pile leading to a drainage pipe.  I flipped a couple of larger rocks with my feet, hoping to find a fake.  I didn’t mind the muggles passing.  I minded doing this so close to someone’s patio.  After giving it a few minutes, I let it go out of discomfort.  I took another look at the map, thinking that maybe I might try for a different cache not far away, and noticed that the pin for this cache had jumped a little farther away—about forty feet and, more importantly, across the walkway and away from the apartments.  I found my quarry stuffed behind a decorative rock at the foot of a low rock wall running parallel to the path.  I signed the log and was on my way.  

I don’t even like front yard caches unless they’re well away from a house.  Getting this close to someone’s home?  No, sir, I don’t like it.  Near a business, maybe a cop will get called, and I will explain it to them.  Near a home?  All it takes is for one person to get suspicious or paranoid, and things can go downhill really quickly in the best of cases. 

That new cacher has one more in the neighborhood. It’s in a designated park, but I hesitate to guess how I might complain about that one. Maybe I’ll get lucky and there won’t be any machine gun nests or concertina wire.