Crashing the Party - A Tribute to Nelomo Traditional Cache
N8theGR8: Unfortunately, this one has come up missing. Since there's not too many hits on it anymore, I think it's run its course. Thanks for looking and thanks to Nelomo for the cool logs!
Crashing the Party - A Tribute to Nelomo
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A cache hidden in an obvious spot. The FTF was given away during an event.
It was early in the month of November in the 2012th year of the Lord. The sun peaked through the clouds and the wind possessed its typical chilly, late-autumn bite. Tucked away in a quaint, little park on the outskirts of the sprawling metropolis known to all as Conklin was a man known throughout the land as one who possesses not only a keen eye for hiding unique items in woods, birdhouses, and other natural crevasses, but one who possesses an even sharper keystroke while creating literary masterpieces for owners of a piece of a worldwide, electronic treasure-hunting phenomenon known to the privileged few as Geocaching. That fabled scriber, known to the plebeians of the surrounding lands simply as Neil, was famed amongst his fellow geocachers as the mythical, legendary Nelomo.
On this chilly Michigan day, Nelomo invited his fellow geocachers from lands far and near to partake in an ancient ritual called kickball. Many were overcome by this joyous activity, known to many as a right-of-passage of their childhoods of distant and not-so-distant pasts. Together, they ran, they threw, they laughed, they complained bitterly about the way that Father Time had crept upon them and stole their once prideful, warrior-like athletic ability.
But then, a little noise pierced the peaceful atmosphere, emanating from pelvic region of one of the participants on the field. And then another; and another. The noise was joined by the distinct rumble of vibrating miniature computers tucked into the pockets of others. Everyone looked to see what would arouse such a clatter.
“There’s a new cache that just posted…..and it’s right over there,” said one of the excited participants. Soon, everyone was privy to the new message that was sent to them through the invisible radio frequencies. But who would have the gall to interrupt the festival of activities taking place on this hallowed ground?
After a short investigation into this matter, the great Nelomo had solved this miniscule mystery after he made an astute observation of the information. It was them! Those wretched souls who dared to interrupt such an eloquent affair of the geocaching masses. It was that Germanistic, tax-swindling kuiper known throughout the land as Michigan Barrel Makers and his partner; the obese, narcissistic, punisher of the “reformed” folk known to nowhere near as many as Nate the Great Eleven (Whoa, whoa, whoa, here, wait a minute. Seriously? Eleven? What kind of a dolt puts eleven at the end of his name? What, was one through ten taken? No, let me guess, you’re such a great one that you have to put two ones next to your name, right? My goodness…..)!
As the duo quickly realized that their cover had been blown, they dashed through the crowd and disappeared quickly into the eastern horizon.
“Where do you think they’re going?” asked one of the puzzled geocachers.
“Probably to that cemetery across that grand river that all of those ammo cans are hidden,” surmised Nelomo. “Someday, we’ll catch those party crashers.”
Additional Hints
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Treasures
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