I had to run up to Georgetown, so I decided to go ahead and grab a cache in the area. My first attempt was at a park not far from the center of town. I had been there a couple of times before, but both times it was crawling with kids and I didn’t want to be that guy, so this was my first time I could really get close to it. At least, I think I was. Unfortunately, I was 98% sure that the cache was either inside or behind a relatively thick bamboo fence, growing in front of another fence. The cache is a few years old and I know how fast bamboo can grow so I have no doubt that the bamboo was more manageable when it was placed. Ultimately, I just didn’t feel like rooting around in bamboo for it. I called it, thinking I’ll return another day when I’m feeling more in the mood. I started heading back to the car when something green and shiny caught my eye on the ground, or rather in the ground since it was pushed down into the soil after being trodden under foot. I picked it up and behold!
I found the bottom half of a bison tube! What are the odds of that? No, it wasn’t the cache I was looking for (I was well away from GZ at that point) and didn’t have a log anyway. But what are the odds?
From there, I went to another nearby park to take a shot at another cache that I had previously attempted and aborted. Once again, both for the day and for that specific cache, I received no joy. I looked at the map again. There was another cache a quick drive away and, from the layout of the roads surrounding it, I thought it might be in a cemetery (there always is one) so I headed that direction. As I drove, a firetruck started inching up behind me, turning onto the street about four blocks behind me. As I drove, it got closer and closer until it was about to overtake me. I pulled over to the side of the road to let it pass and watch it take the turn I was about to make. I took my turn and continued on as it flew away from me. I eventually made it to the cemetery and entered the main gate. As I drove deeper in, I noticed the lights on the firetruck just beyond the fence. They were attending to come kind of car-based incident, though nothing that seemed to warrant a firetruck. It must have some kind of paramedic thing because they had an older man on a stretcher and he was waving his arms about as if he didn’t want to be there, but the other passengers seemed to be trying to calm him down. I continued on my way to the appropriate place. Inveni, inscripsi, reposui.
My work done, I began to drive out of the cemetery when a stone caught my eye. It bore a familiar name, that of George Washington Glasscock, namesake of both Georgetown and Glasscock County. I stopped and looked closer and saw that it was the grave of George Washington Glasscock Jr., not his father (a quick moment with the intertubes revealed that I had seen Senior’s grave before at Oakwood Cemetery in Austin). While Junior receives mention on his father’s Wikipedia page (he was a state senator, after all), he doesn’t rate as a famous grave for my purposes (he isn’t objectively well known/accomplished, and I don’t personally care about him one way or another). So I continued on out of the cemetery, happy to have completed my goal for the day and glad that what could have been tragedy (the stretcher and family) seemed to have become farce. I drove off, not needing to know any more than that.
Geocaching While Black 