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I lived in the Pacific NW before the prevailing westerlies blew me all the way across the country and I ended up here.
I have a great friend there by the name of JB Clarke that I used to waste a great deal of the weekend with chasing a golf ball. For some reason this area reminds me of him.
Now granted, neither JB or I were good golfers but we sure did try! In fact, both of us had a fairly bad long game, not being able to drive a ball straight to save our souls. Seems we were always several yards off the fairway trying to hit the ball, through, out of, over and around some sort of obstacle. Over the years we piled up some fairly amusing stories!
I was always called the "Conifer Magnet". If you've ever been there you know that the Pacific NW is covered with a lush forest of pines. My ball was always attracted to the thickest stand of pine on the course! This would cause me to attempt whacking the ball near the ground and out into the middle of the fairway again. Now hitting the ball out of a thicket of pine into the fairway can sometimes be dangerous for others that may be walking the course as they may not be able to see me through the forest. I was in there so much I even developed my own signature announcement when hitting from the forest! I would just center up between two pines, and rather than yelling "FORE", I would let loose my signature "LOWE" yell to warn others I was coming out! JB always loved that! Me yelling "LOWE", and my signature worm burner sailing out from between two trees onto the fairway.
Another time, JB and I were honored to play Lake Oswego Country Club just south of Portland. Now Lake O CC is surrounded by many stately homes and these home owners are none too pleased to let golfers wander all over their property whacking divits into their manicured lawns. As such, many of them are surround by very ornate iron fencing. This day JB was down to his last ball, having lost all the others throughout the day. Wouldn't you know it, he sliced his drive on the 18th right into one of these yards. When we came across the ball, it was on the other side of a fence. JB stuck his arm through, not quite able to reach his ball. He then let out a stream of obscenities like I haven't heard since...well..never heard. Much to my glee, moments later I realized JB's outburst was not that he had lost his last ball, but that his arm was firmly stuck at the elbow in the fence! Well, after assisting JB with removing his arm, I was able to just squeeze my arm through the fence far enough to reach his ball. It was close though, even I nearly got my arm stuck at the elbow! Whew!
Gad, enough golf reminiscing....on to the cache....
Just go get it! It's right there! You can even bring the kids, and muggles are sometimes, but not often a problem considering the cache's location. No danger, you don't have to swing from a rope or climb a rock wall. It's a small cache, but not so small it can't hold a Diabetes TB.
You can park fairly close, and you can also park fairly far and make it a nice walk, you can even break the law (which I do not condone) and park within 15 feet of the cache, but then you'd need a rope and then there'd be danger....gad....I digress again....
Bu zl! Gung jnf n ybat jbeguyrff tbys fgbel....be jnf vg??
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Coordinates are in the WGS84 datum