You are looking for a small, black blinker nano cache in one of the busiest areas I’ve come across. The cache requires a great deal of stealth to retrieve and I ask you take your time in finding and replacing it. After you find it and if you’re inclined, take a moment to read my thoughts on how geocaching fits into our lives.
Three hundred and sixteen miles behind me, I was a scant seventeen miles from my goal. What would be one of, if not my most joyous day of hiking yet, I was almost to Pittsburgh. In the two and a half weeks that had passed, I had started in Washington, D.C. and traversed one hundred and eighty five miles on the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Towpath (better known as the C&O) and another one hundred and thirty one on the Great Allegheny Passage (also more commonly known by a pseudonym; the GAP). The trek would be a grand total of three hundred and thirty three miles, give or take, and had left me with many memories I’ll treasure for the rest of my life, but one moment imparted a valuable lesson to me.
For the past dozen or so years I had dabbled in a smattering of hobbies from archery to origami but one kept coming up as a through line, geocaching. For those unaware, I usually describe it as a treasure hunt where one would use their phone or a GPS receiver to hunt for Tupperware or whatever sorts of containers someone might hide. Once you find it you sign the log and, if the cache is large enough, possibly trade trinkets. To most if not everyone I explain it to, it sounds like a game and–well–it is. But to me it means so much more. Geocaching is a medium, an experience, akin to great novels or films. One can tell a fascinating story and breathe it to life with their words and the physical stages of a cache or perhaps drive desperate cachers up the wall with an artfully executed puzzle. Some of my favorites draw you to a place you would likely not have discovered on your own; the hidden gems of a city. Suffice to say, Geocaching provides one with endless wonder.
As I pulled my heavy shopping cart (an anecdote for for another day) up to the one of the last bridges I’d traverse on the GAP, I noticed an odd reflector on the bridge’s Southwest end. It wasn’t askew or anything so obvious but just a titch off in a way words can’t describe. Having a hunch, I plucked it from it’s magnetic mount to discover a little piece of paper inside inscribed with the word ‘log’. Without even meaning to, my intuition had guided me to a find. After signing the log, physically and digitally, I replaced the cleverly hid container and continued on my trek. While counting down the miles walking down the streamside trail, a revelation struck.
Over the summer I had hiked three hundred and sixty miles on the Appalachian Trail, and after this trip would be close to having traversed seven hundred miles total but wondered to myself, what had I learned? Many practical lessons came to mind, such as always starting the day prepared but fewer of the more ‘enlightened’ variety. That is, until I began to gleefully mull over finding that cache without even trying. Life is beyond amazing and the world filled with endless wonder.
Oftentimes we are so far down the rabbit holes of our careers and obligations that we don’t take the time to truly appreciate what’s out there. We seek refuge from the mundane in film and literature without realizing that there is something truly wonderful to discover every single day. Geocaching nudges us towards realizing this. It gets us off the couch, out of the house, and into the wide world with the promise of adventure. Not all adventures are grand (looking at you LPC’s) but even the smallest is more adventurous than the ‘thrill’ rewatching shows on Netflix provides.
While we all know (and largely discredit) clichés like “you only live once” as they’re often provided as the reasoning behind foolish feats, there is one manta that’s truly helped me give my life my own meaning: “Your life is in your hands alone now”. Whatever you do now, is truly up to you. And whatever ironclad obligations you may think have you locked down, remember that iron can rust too. With this humble cache description coming to a close, and hopefully the find in hand, I sincerely hope that all the future possibilities out there fills you with a sense of endless wonder.