Warning: This may not be the best cache for a family outing. Younger children my find it frightening or disturbing--please use discretion.
We begin with a story:
There once was a young man named Martin, who'd heard tell of the spirits of the Stony Run Trail since he was a boy. The exact details of the local lore varied according to the teller, as local lore is wont to do, but the basic outline went something like this:
Between the hours of dawn and dusk, Stony Run Trail is a beautiful, serene place for hikers, runners, and anyone else looking for a brief escape from city life. But by night, the trail takes on a wholly different character. When darkness falls, the spirits of the woods wake from their slumber and claim the trail for their own. No one knows what they do in the darkness, for no one has witnessed the spectacle and lived to tell about it. But those who pass above trail in the late hours recount hearing strange sounds like moans drifting from deep in the woods and seeing an odd eerie glow emerging from the forest's depths. Those few brave or foolhardy souls who have attempted to descend the trail at night report having been repelled by large, terrible shapes that seemed to materialize under the bridge that runs near the entrance to the trail. Some of the more extreme versions of the story hold that these are ghostly hounds that emerge to guard the "gates" of Stony Run and stand ready to rip limb from limb anyone who dares trespass.
Martin never believed these stories, but, nevertheless, he made sure to set back for home long before the sun set whenever he went down to the trail. After all, the terrain was difficult in some parts, and it would be nearly impossible to navigate without the aid of light.
One day, however, Martin was shooting the breeze with some friends down by the bridge when time got away from him. The sun was barely hanging over the horizon by the time he and his companions decided to part ways. His friends lived in the apartments off University Parkway, and only had to head a short way north on the trail. But Martin lived off Wyman Park Drive, and so had a much longer hike ahead of him. He walked as briskly as he could, scaling the rocks near the creek, passing by the odd, tree-fort-like structure by the hill, and stepping over the branches that the recent snow had snapped from the trees. He reached the Remington Avenue exit in record time, and briefly considered using it and walking home from there. But it was faster to take the the trail the rest of the way, and, though the light was getting very low indeed, Martin was sure he could make it to the other exit before the sun disappeared entirely.
So onward Martin went, trying his best to avoid the thorny branches that protruded into the trail. He quickly realized, however, that he had neglected to consider one thing: the snow was beginning to melt. The trail, which had a tendency to be muddy anyway, was now nearly impassable at several points. Martin's shoes sunk down so deeply that he struggled to pull his legs up, and more than once he considered turning back. But he had gone far enough that it would hardly be worthwhile, and, besides, he could see the Wyman Park overpass not far in the distance.
And so he kept on. The light was so low that everything took on a blueish look, and the outlines of branches became less distinct. The temperature had seemed to drop suddenly even in the short period since he'd set out from the bridge, and Martin became increasingly conscious of how cold he was. He pulled his coat tighter around himself and hurried his pace. Several times he caught feet on roots or scraped his hands against thorny bushes, but he had no choice but to ignore the pain and continue, for he had to get out of the trail as quickly as possible. The bridge wasn't far at all now.
But as he neared the overpass, Martin heard a strange sound, like a rumble that came from everywhere and nowhere all at once. It was so powerful that the ground trembled under his feet. He quicked his face even more, but a movement caught his eye as he passed under the darkness of the bridge. He turned instinctively to see what it was, and was horrified when a great black mass seemed to materialize out of the ground before his very eyes. Martin wanted to turn away from the thing, to keep going, but he felt frozen as he watched the mass take shape. It formed what appeared to be a great black hound. Glowing red eyes appeared on its face, and at once Martin felt them boring into him. The hulking beast growled and snarled, and its great heaving breaths showed in the freezing air. The smell of sulfur was overwhelming.
The beast crouched down on it's haunches as if to lunge, and finally the spell that bound Martin in his place was broken. Martin willed his legs to move, faster and faster until he was in a sprint. He didn't turn to see, but he could hear the massive hound move to follow him. Its feet made a great noise every time they struck the trail, and the sounds came closer and closer together. The hill between the trail and the safety of the street was too steep for Martin to climb. He had to make it to the path, but the dog was fast. Martin could feel its hot breath on the backs of his legs, but he kept going. Surely he could reach the path before the dog could overtake him, surely he could escape. But then the beast let out a great, unearthly howl and...
Well, you'll have to find the cache, won't you? :)
A few notes before you begin your search:
1. You can approach this cache a few ways. If you want to follow Martin's path and grab a few more caches along the way, I'd recommend entering the trail from San Martin Drive, near the location of the Hubble Gotchu cache. If you want to make it a park and grab, enter the trail from Wyman Park Drive.
2. The area in which this is hidden has some notoriously bad GPS bounce and an abundance of hiding places, especially for something as small as this (hence the difficulty rating). I would recommend going off of the hint more than your GPS.
3.The cache container is homemade, so please be gentle with it. Though you might instinctively want to pull it, don't. It's a twist-off. The log container for this cache is very small, and tweezers may be helpful in extracting it.
4. In case you didn't get it from the story, you shouldn't seek this cache at night. The trail is closed between dusk and dawn.
Congrats to MarylandRamblers for FTF!