A couple of days ago, I had to meet with another caching friend for a thing. For a little while, we went back and forth about where to meet up. Finally, I just decided to take the bull by the horns. I hadn’t found my cache for the day and I knew roughly where she was so I just picked a nearby cache and sent her the GC number. In this case, it was at a popular pool with a entrance for the trails along Town Lake. It was a nice little find, hidden in plain sight, that makes me think I might want to place something similar somewhere else. But that’s not important right now. What matters is that, after she spent some time searching for a place to park, we met and did what we needed to do.
Why do I even bring this up? Because I’ve noticed that I’m in the habit of using caches as navigational markers. One caching friend lives near a certain cache and I never remember where the turn for their house is, but I know where the cache is so I know that’s where to turn. I frequently describe where things are to other cachers by mentioning caches nearby. Yes, we live in a world where I have a portable computer in my pocket and it can give me directions to any address or business or named building on command, and I still use the names of caches to designate where they are. What is perhaps even more ridiculous is that I remember the names of all these caches. There are about 7000 caches in Travis and Williamson Counties, of which I have found just over 4000, and I probably remember about half of those finds. Sure, geoart finds all blend into one another, but ones sprinkled around the cities? How I can remember so many lamp posts is beyond me. Sometimes I don’t remember the hide until I look at its location on the map and when I start to zoom in mentally on its location, I can see the cache in my mind’s eye as clear as day. What’s even more amazing to me is that I know a few cachers with multiples of my finds who literally remember every cache they’ve ever found. Some days I think I’m insane and then one of my friendly caching buddies reminds that insanity is relative (insert joke about families here).
In other news, the day has almost arrived. For the 24th year in a row, we will frolic and cache and compete for the Golden Ammo Can. All I can hope for is that you will all be entertained, but this thing will happen and I’ll probably have more to say about it when it’s over.
That is all.
Geocaching While Black 