Roll with the Caches, Part 2

Ok, I'm back. Deadwood was great last night, as was Entourage, but it's back down to business now. Here's the second part of our adventures for the week.

Our next cache was one called Checking Station, which was a pretty good name for it since it was right behind the Hunter's Checking Station. We were greeted with another of the signs telling us that we WILL enjoy ourselves in the nature area. Again, Mad Mike and I made with the Guantanamo jokes, much to the displeasure of Fish, who, politically, is slightly to the right of Hitler. We headed into the woods to look for the cache, which had the clue "Be sure to log your find." The guys began to complain about the useless clue but I had an idea. "Hey, wasn't that the clue a few weeks ago at Watchtower? Is it the same guy?" Sure enough it was. So as the rest of the gang wandered around, I headed for a likely looking log and, sure enough, it was there. See, kids, it pays to remember your history. Inside the cache, we found quite possibly the coolest prize in the history of caches. Contained inside was something the older of us in the group had heard of, but never seen in person. Contained inside was a child of the 80's version of the Holy Grail.

Inside was K-Tel's "Zamfir, Master of the Pan Flute." If you grew up in the 1980's, you smiled when you read that. Admit it, you did. Zamfir might be the "Master of the Pan Flute" but he's also the "Master of the Crappy Late Night Commercial" as K-Tel ran millions of commercials for Zamfir, always accompanied by that awful, drowsy, sappy flute music. Tserof and Ashlynne, younger than the rest of us, had never heard of Zamfir. Mad Mike explained it best. "He got overtaken by Kenny G in the 90's for the 'music to put you to sleep' crowd."

We didn't take the Zamfir tape, partially because we had nothing to leave and partially because it just didn't seem right. If we took it, what Grail would errant knights search for in their caching quests? What pleasures would we be denying future cachers if we kept Zamfir for ourselves? What potential insomniac cachers are searching valiantly for their cure, already having become immune to the ministrations of Yanni, all for naught as we took their only cure? It just didn't seem right.

Reluctantly leaving Zamfir, we moved on to the next cache, Boat Ramp. Once again, the naming was right on as there was a boat ramp about 30 yards from the cache. The water looked tempting in the near 100 degree weather and Tserof seemed ready to dive in, but I suddenly remembered that my dad had stopped taking me fishing at Wood's Reservoir as a child because the government had issued a warning about eating the catfish due to the contamination in the water. Not wanting to see Tserof grow an extra set of toes, I quickly steered him away from the water and toward the cache. This one was listed as a mini but was more like a micro, a small paintball tube with nothing more than a log inside. I guess it's just as well. After Zamfir, any prizes would have been a letdown.

Next up was Prairie Plains Crossing. **Warning. This one contains some spoilers for the cache's location. If you plan to hit this cache and want to be surprised, don't read on. I usually try to avoid giving away cache locations but in this case, the only way to illustrate the sheer idiocy of our team is to give away the general location of the cache. You've been warned**
We parked the minivan beside the road in but Fish decided his oh so manly 4X4 could handle the rough road in. Fish was, unfortunately, wrong as he discovered wheel-deep in a mudhole that his 4WD was not currently functional. Hilarity ensued as we watched Fish attempt to get his (now) 2WD Jeep out of the mud. Needless to say, Fish decided once he got out of the mud that maybe we'd just hike in from there. And hike we did. Over brambles and under. Through dense foliage and around to... the bridge about 50 yards from our cars. We're now under the bridge, surrounded by brush, and searching like crazy for the cache in a pile of rocks, a pile of brush, and a pile of weeds. Finally, Mad Mike climbs up onto the bridge and looks around the area surrounding the bridge. Sure enough, right on the bridge, easily accessible from the road, 50 yards from the car, is the cache. We take a moment to ponder the fact that we've just spent about 45 minutes scratching ourselves up, nearly needing a tow truck for Fish's Jeep, climbing up slopes, fighting mosquitos, and overturning rocks for what should have been a park and grab. Yes, we ARE the Zen Bassmasters. Doing it the hard way... because we can!" On the way back to the car (and beyond, since walking to the car took all of 30 seconds) I said "Did the GPS go screwy?", wondering why it didn't point right to the bridge. "Oh no," Fish tells me, "It did point toward the bridge. We just didn't think it could be that easy..." *sigh* Yes, we are all morons. Myself included. As a great man (Obi Wan Kenobi) once said, "Who's the bigger idiot? The fool, or the fool who follows him?"

Our final cache is "East of Nowhere." By now we're pretty tired, especially Ash and I, who have been outside pretty much constantly since 5 am. Driving to the cache, which promised difficulty in even finding roads to get there, Tserof notices the cache is about a .5 mile hike in, the last 300 yards of which promise to be "impenetrable brambles". Great. By now, my legs are jelly and I'm seeing spots (did I mention the van's AC doesn't work?). I'm not sure I'm up for a mile of walking, especially not through "impenetrable brambles" which brings up visions of last week's caches, the scars of which we all still bear (literally. Fish's legs still look like he had gotten a pedicure from Jason Vorhees). But, since Fish and Mad Mike were gung ho to try it and since I am the group's scribe, I figured what the hell. Besides, I figure a mile of walking at the end of the day in near 100 degree heat will make for some interesting fodder for the blog. Yes, Gentle Readers, I suffer so you don't have to. I ask only that you remember this on my birthday. I take Visa, Mastercard, and American Express, and will even return them to you in 4 to 6 months when I've finished with them.

Anyhow, we lucked out as most of the half mile was on a well-used ATV trail. The needed "mule team" to get in that was advertised in the description was not needed at all. It winded us a little but you have to remember, we're all 400lbs. Getting out of bed in the morning winds us. On we trek, dodging the ATVs speeding past, until Fish tells us we need to divert off the path. "Great", we think. "Here comes the 200 yards of impassable brambles." Well, the path was littered with brambles but anyone who rated them "impassable" needs to visit a random Frodo cache to learn the true meaning of pain. Onward we pressed, only slightly bloodier for the trip until we came to where the cache was supposed to be... right onto a road. Yes, once again we'd traveled through weeds, logs, and briars, only to come out on a nice flat road... You see a pattern here? We look around and see a beer can stuck onto the branch of a tree. Aha! A clue. The five of us, all budding Sherlocks, look around the area where the can is, to no avail. At this time, the GPS' have both had some time to talk to more sats and are now agreeing that the cache is in the middle of a field of corn on the other side of the road. Surely not, we think. Finally, Fish re-checks the coordinates we've entered against the PDA and, sure enough, we've entered them wrong. We re-input the right coordinates and the GPS' dutifully point us in the right direction... about 200 yards back the way we came. Yes, we did trample through 200 yards of bramble for nothing... for the second time today. "Boldly Going Where No One Saw Any Need to Go Before." It's the ZB way...

Back we go through the brambles and bush and the GPS units lead us right to the cache, which is about 20 feet off the trail. Did I mention we're idiots? We're idiots. And the worst part is, during all this, all I can think is "At least I've got something interesting for the blog."

As we walked back out Mad Mike and I engaged in our favorite game, baiting Fish with political discussions. Ash held back and played the role of coach, attempting to get Tserof to the car without dying.

Fortunately, everyone made it to the car alive and we moved toward home, tired but satisfied with our day's accomplishments.

In fact, speaking of accomplishment, this is the first ZB trip with a 100% find rate! Yay for us.

Tune in next week when, hopefully, we can continue our streak. Next week we have some friends with us, some of which have some varying states of disability, as well as Fish's 3 year-old and non-caching wife, my cousin. So we're doing all terrain 1 and 2 caches, culminating with a cookout at Berlin Springs park (which we discovered a few weeks ago while doing caches) to celebrate Ash's getting a new job.

Until next week, I leave you with a tribute to our patron saint...