Ah yes, the I-66 corridor—where the traffic flows like molasses and a parking lot looks like a retirement home for vehicles that never quite made it to rush hour. And tucked somewhere between the honking horns and the gridlock, there’s a geocache hidden, waiting patiently for someone to risk it all just to log “TFTC.”
It’s the perfect blend of urban adventure and existential dread: sneak past a fence and pray the cache isn’t just a soggy logsheet in a cracked Altoids tin. Welcome to geocaching, Northern Virginia style.
And somewhere in all this chaos, you can almost hear Hank Hill muttering “I tell you what…” as he surveys the scene with propane-fueled disapproval. If Bobby were here, he’d probably try to trade the cache for a Fruit Roll-Up. Dale would claim he planted it himself. And Bill? Bill would just cry.
FTF honors go here! 
- Please do not post photos of the cache container.
- You must sign or stamp the log to prove you found it or it gets deleted after an audit.
