Hidden in Timber, Found by the Bold
Beneath the pines where the trail winds tight,
A secret waits out of plain sight.
On planks of wood where bikers race,
Lies a tiny box in a quiet place.
The wheels may spin, the tires may slide,
But only the keen will spot and bide.
A cache of clues, a log to sign,
Adventure tucked in a forest line.
So ride with care, and eyes that seek,
For treasures hide where the brave hearts peek.
On mountain paths where stories dwell,
The geocache keeps its wooden spell.