The day before my jaunt toward southeast Texas, I was surprised to see a notification for a newly published cache, not because it never happens, but because it was in one of the socioeconomically poor areas of town I have mentioned in the past. The cache posted midmorning, but I lazed around during the day, doing (or more likely not doing) the things I do (or don’t do) on the weekend. Once it got a little later and I needed to go get a cache, I noticed that nobody had logged it yet, so I figured I could always use another FTF. I had lived around the area long ago, so I was well aware of the location, across from a school that serves as a linchpin, keeping several surrounding blocks nicer than the rest of the neighborhood. Once I hit ground zero, a bridge over a creek, I was struck by the dichotomy. Visible beside the creek was a historic home, the inspiration for the cache’s location, receiving some renovations to maintain it, hopefully for another hundred and fifty years. Invisible from the street, in the creek’s valley, was the ecological nightmare that is the detritus of man, the reason we have CITOs. I let out a small humph of amusement. When we have CITOs around here, we sometimes compete to see who can find the most interesting item. I once won by finding a box spring for a mattress. I would have won this time for finding a life-size Darth Vader doll sans head. Still peering over the side of the bridge, I easily spotted a slightly larger-than-usual nano attached to the side. Inveni, inscripsi, reposui. It wasn’t a remarkable or special hide. But it was a new hide in a place I have rarely come caching over the years. Sure, there have been occasional ones around the neighborhood, but they tended to languish unfound for long periods because nobody wants to go there, get lost among unkempt areas, get destroyed by muggles, or quickly fall into disrepair. I was just happy to see a new cache in an area wide open for new hides. Maybe I’ll try to add a new hide myself. Unfortunately, it probably won’t be a really cool one. I feel a little bad that I don’t want to invest more effort in a nice hide over there. The neighborhood deserves better. I’m just not the guy to give it. There’s my shame, perhaps my sin.
Geocaching While Black 