Treasure Hunting

On Friday, I was sweating. The sun was on full display, pressing down in a show hinting that, though spring had only recently arrived, summer was coming and that right soon. I had parked in Austin‘s most popular park to take a walk. A couple of days before, I had gotten the first of the newly adopted Geocaching Treasures: the Mystery easter egg. The day after that, I received the Event egg. Friday, I decided to go ahead and get the Traditional egg. That’s why I was at Zilker Park, preparing to stroll along Barton Creek. I walked a path for about a quarter mile until I reached a bridge over the creek. I immediately saw a sign stating that jumping into the creek from the bridge was forbidden. Looking a little farther beyond, I saw half a dozen high schoolers in swim trunks perched on the side of the bridge, either jumping or preparing to jump into the cool water beneath. I couldn’t help smiling at their youthful rebellion as I passed them. I didn’t even know for sure if I would call it rebellion (that would imply intent). They just did what kids have done from time immemorial: enjoy life regardless of the rules and strictures placed by society (before they have to become beholden to them). I smirked, thinking that, despite what media or Facebook memes would have you believe, the kids are all right—for now.

I crossed the bridge to another sign and found a hollow magnetic bolt. Inveni, inscripsi, reposui. And once I logged it (after watching a man older than me climb over the side and jump in the creek—make of that what you will), I had a new egg in my collection.

Saturday, I needed my trusty and long-traveled umbrella. Over the night, clouds had come in, bringing cooling winds and warm rain. Returning home from a trip to the south side of town, I turned into a subdivision for a park cache. I had attempted it a couple of times before, but each time, someone was sitting at ground zero, and they just would not leave. This time, thanks to the wind and intermittent rain, there was nobody around to see me search. I went from iron table to iron table until I found a magnetic key box and popped it open. Inveni, inscripsi, reposui. And once I returned it, I broke the seal on the second collection, one based on Traditionals of high Difficulty and low Terrain. A digital astrolabe awaited me, and I chuckled, knowing that my own real astrolabe was in a box somewhere, unused by me in quite a while. Perhaps, I thought, I would pull it out and take a moment to observe the starry sky with it. I didn’t, but it would have been nice.

Sunday, I had bigger plans (and pants to match). Razorbackgirl and I drove up to Taylor, intent on grabbing a GeoArt made of Letterbox Hybrids. That would ensure my Letterbox egg. It was quite the day for it. The mercury had dropped into the midforties over the night, climbing to the midfifties by afternoon. We were met by a cacher from the Conroe area, Nov64, and off we went to the back roads. A little later, once she was free, Krissy4884 joined us. One after another, we snagged containers—some actually containing stamps, some not; some exactly as placed and described, others in odd containers and places; some in clear and open ground, others enmeshed inside pokey bullcrap foliage. Despite one cache inciting a conniption fit in me thanks to said pokey foliage and a near imitation of Bo and Luke Duke at one point, invenimus, inscripsimus, reposuimus all over the place, earning us just over a hundred and thirty Letterboxes with only half a dozen DNFs.

The weather changes. The grounds differ. The hunting party can vary. The treasures we seek can take many forms. But we are all looking for the next new horizon, through heat or rain, cold or … something else. And the hunt never ends, whether for a physical treasure or, sometimes, a digital one. Or some kind of crap like that.