I noted with a smirk that there’s both a Buffalo and a Dallas County back home and I’m not especially fond of either of them. And then I pulled up to the Dallas County Courthouse. No. Just plain no. The less said about it, the better.
There’s always a cemetery. I figured the one on the edge of town would be a perfect place to find my quarry. It turned out to be more extensive than I expected for a town so small, but thanks to the wonders of GPS technology, so much more reliable than cadastral surveying (for my purposes), I knew dead on (no pun intended) where to go. At a corner fence post near the front of the cemetery was a wired and camouflaged pill bottle. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. The hardest thing about the entire find was the stick that managed to break and fall down my back while I was pulling the cache out. Once the stick was removed (yes, you may make your jokes now), I was off again, continuing down the road to…
Geocaching While Black 