Recently a writer from the Sacramento Bee contacted me about
doing a story on geocaching. They had done some research on the
game and were very interested in a cover story. So, I agreed. A
couple of days later the entire TRAKD crew (with Scout) met up with
the writer and a cameraman and took them on a couple of adventures
(see
GC10KGR;
GC10KHD ; and
GC10XK0 ).
They had such a good time that they wanted to place a cache to
go with the story and possibly create a follow up story. I said I
could help out with that request if they could pull some strings
and allow the cache to be placed at the Sacramento Bee. Getting
permission to place a regular sized cache downtown has always been
a challenge. A couple of days later I got the green light. So, here
it is. Don’t be surprised if you are one of the first cachers to
find this little treasure and are contacted by the Bee to do a
follow up story about our fun little game.
As mentioned above the cache is a large camouflaged tube hidden
with care not to disturb the landscaping. It is a very straight
forward cache. The best part is that you do not need to worry about
any of our usual slithery
friends, hazardous oak, and the rest of the natural
bugaboos.
Precise Treasure Hunt GPS locaters spawn sport of geocaching
By M.S. Enkoji – Sacramento Bee Staff Writer – March 11,
2007
By day, Trevor Anderson is a dutiful state worker. The rest
of the time, he's master of a growing universe. “I don't smoke and
I don't drink, but they do call me The Obsessed One," said
Anderson, a 39-year-old rising star in the international game of
geocaching, a 21st century treasure hunt.
At any given time, as many as 2 million people worldwide are
playing the game that combines high-tech gadgetry and the Internet
with old-fashioned outdoor recreation.
Using global positioning satellites to get latitude and
longitude coordinates, geocachers go outdoors in search of each
others' "caches," boxed gifts that can be anything from Cracker
Jack trinkets to Sacramento Kings tickets.
Since the federal government unleashed GPS technology for the
masses in 2000, the sport has grown, drawing in such participants
as retired grandmothers in urban parks, Boy Scouts and intrepid
trekkers who comb mountainous terrain in search of caches. "It's
just been absolutely tremendous," said Bryan Roth, a cofounder of
Groundspeak, which runs the official Web site, geocaching.com. "On
the average, we get a new account every minute."
With GPS units starting at about $100, and cache boxes little
more than waterproof Tupperware, it can be the start of a lifetime
of adventure, said Roth, who met his wife at a geocaching
get-together.
There are 364,700 caches hidden in 200 countries, according to
the Web site. At least 200 caches are hidden within six miles of
the Sacramento Bee ZIP code. A whole geocaching industry is growing
to supply the sport with accessories such as specially minted coins
and the book, "Geocaching for Dummies."
By hiding "travel bugs," which finders move from cache to cache,
players can take virtual trips around the world. Those with causes,
such as breast cancer or AIDS awareness, have promoted them by
leaving ribbons or wrist bands in caches. Anderson, who has
searched daily for two years for geocaches, has logged more than
6,000 finds. Some he reaches in minutes. Others can mean strenuous
hikes for hours. Known online in the geocaching world as "TRAKD,"
Anderson has 150 caches of his own hidden and labeled with names
like Cirque du Quarante and Dark Tater.
If Anderson wasn't compelled to find those little containers and
log his name in them, the former couch potato said he never would
have seen woodsy trails along the American River or secluded
neighborhoods in San Francisco. "It totally changed my point of
view of things," Anderson said.
Along the way, Anderson lost his TV viewing habit, embraced
hiking and lost 20 pounds. Others are perfectly content with a few
leisurely searches a week. “It's just the fun of the hunt. I love
the journey," said Jan Yarnot, a retired Sacramento teacher and
four-year geocacher, who goes out weekly with her husband. An avid
birdwatcher, she hides her caches where finders are likely to do a
little birdwatching.
The meteoric rise of the sport hasn't come without its
detractors and controversy. U.S. National Parks forbid geocaching.
Although some state park systems, such as Colorado's, are welcoming
geocachers, others, including California State Department of Parks
and Recreation are not. And hyper-vigilence about terrorism causes
jitters over a cache possibly being mistaken for a bomb. "You don't
want geocaching to get that kind of reputation," Yarnot said.
In the early days, renegades reportedly left illegal drugs in
caches, trampled sensitive nature areas and chose dangerous hiding
spots, such as under waterfalls, said Philip McKnelly, executive
director of the National Association of State Park Directors in
Raleigh, N.C.
As the sport evolved, so did the ground rules, including
geocaching.com's admonishment against digging, littering,
trespassing and other undesirable behavior. Geocaching has exposed
state parks to a whole new audience. The 71,000-acre Colorado State
Forest State Park sprawls high in the Rocky Mountains and offers
camping, hiking, snowshoeing and, now, geocaching. "I just think
it's a gold mine," said Deb McLachlan, an aide to the park manager.
"If I had a business, it would be an awesome way to bring people
into it." The park has hidden eight of its own geocaches and rents
GPS units to novices for $10. A survey of geocachers at the park
revealed that 90 percent of them had never been to the park before,
McLachlan said. "If you hide a cache, they will come," she said.
She has sold park passes to a group of retirees in a caravan of 22
recreational vehicles who came for the geocaching. She was hugged
by a 70-plus Nebraska woman who had 1,100 geocache finds, and has
welcomed European visitors with GPS units in hand.
Geocachers have not created significant problems in Sacramento
County Regional Parks, including the American River Parkway, said
the director, Gary Kukkola. Because locations are logged on the
geocache Web site, rangers can monitor them, he said. "Anything
that gets people into the parks for a positive outdoor experience
is always a good thing," he said.
Anderson, boyish in demeanor and enthusiasm, loads his family
and the dog in his sport-utility vehicle on days he doesn't work.
In the back, he carries containers loaded with his signature
miniature eight-ball trinket and other paraphernalia.
On a recent hunt, he rode past Phoenix Park in Fair Oaks, a
place he picked for one of his own caches. Heading toward the bank
of the American River, his GPS on the console, he explained how he
also spends hours documenting his travels in online logs. "Half the
sport is going out and finding the cache; the other half is being
creative in your logs," he said. On a trail by the river, guided by
the GPS, Anderson let his 4- and 6-year-old sons open the cache and
choose one of the toys inside as he dropped an eight ball inside
and signed the log: 6,395 and counting.
# # #
As always… Enjoy.