CACHERS, PLEASE DON'T TAKE THE LETTERBOX STAMP!
This is a letterbox-slanted hybrid - the posted coordinates are
the starting point/parking area only. You WILL NEED these
(hopefully entertaining) clues to navigate you to this box. Most
non-mountaineer folks will need a compass.
The Tale of Max and His Hill
Max is a Tyrannosaurus Rex, not your frightening, spooky
variety, but rather a young prankster with an incredible sense of
humor. He's young enough that certain types of humor appeal to him
and his story will appeal to the young of your species as well.
;-)
Anyway, Max was out one day and he'd had a big breakfast and
sooner, rather than later, a certain sensation told him it was time
to find relief. Although Max was a prankster, he was rather finicky
about where he chose to relieve himself. So it was this day, and he
began a quest for the perfect spot, a combination of seclusion and
a great view, after all dinosaurs can't read so reading material is
of little use.
So, Max trotted off, the ground shaking beneath him, and after a
short time he came to a clearing (where he saw your car, and space
for several others). Standing in the middle of this unnatural dirt
rectangle, he knew immediately it was one of those spaces cleared
by Mammal-o-saurs and decided for a quick route away from the area.
To the extreme NW corner of the clearing he noticed a narrow but
well used path, marked by a sign and passing along against a fence.
Although he didn't understand the words, he noticed that an arrow
pointed in the direction he wanted to go and somewhere in his
walnut-sized brain, 32° flashed briefly. The young tyrannosaur
paused no longer, a rumble in his lower intestines reminding him of
his purpose.
As he loped along the trail he passed a sign, more Mammal-o-saur
language, "Caution: poison ivy" and just beyond it, a place where
he stopped. "This -must- be the famed Dinosaur Hill," he thought.
Dinosaur hills, he'd seen some big ones in his time, particularly
those made by Seismosaurus and Diplodocus. This one must have been
deposited over time by several Seismosaurs. Near where one part had
been shored up with timbers with squared sides was another sign in
Mammal-o-saurian, "Do not climb the hill." "Who would want to?" Max
asked himself, "hills of that variety are the unpleasant kind." So
off he trotted.
In passing, he noted a small, tubular platform, topped with a
worked block of granite. He shook his head....those Mammal-o-saurs
were strange, never thinking of the 7 inscribed on it long enough
to care.
One he went, ducking here and there along the trail as the
plants grew thick, creating a canopy in some places. In passing he
noted another little numbered marker, 8. He skidded to a halt, in
awe of the great, grand mass of trunks to his left. Such a massive
thing, it towered over even him. But some things, like the feelings
in his tummy, required greater heed than the trees around him, so
off he went again.
Shortly, he came upon a number of signs, which of course he
could not read. But to his right, he noticed a trail going off
toward another of those mammal-o-saur clearings, however, this one
had smooth hardness and odd geometrical angles absolutely alien to
Max's dinosaur brain. He looked wildly about for some other way
forward and was quite relieved to see that staying left would take
him away from the odd sounds and smells of mammal-o-saur land.
A "1", then an instinctive desire to take the trail south, and a
number two that marked a big rock. Okay, not so big compared to a
full-grown tyrannosaur, but Max is after all a juvenile, so he's
not all that big.
Max paused, as he heard his intestines give a huge rumble.
Something twisted, squirmed and quite suddenly, the end opposite
Max's mouth emitted a rather explosive sound. Max jumped as he
heard a great crash behind him, and he wheeled around in surprise
to see two great trees, lying broken off near the base of their
trunks. Max's great, toothed mouth made a small "o" of surprise.
"Did -I- do that?!" he whispered softly. With a somewhat sheepish
grin, he hurried off down the trail, never stopping to notice a
sign that said: "glacial boulder."
His eyes found a marker, marked 3, more because its color and
texture differed so much from the surroundings. His instincts told
him SW was his passage. His situation was growing a bit more urgent
now, but although 9 pointed to a likely spot, he knew this was
nowhere close to what he desired.
Shortly, he came upon a set of three interesting things. Though
he noticed, rather in passing, a place where a mammal-o-saur might
sit, and another of those markers (this one had a 10 on it), it was
the great maple, the greater half of which had fallen, that
intrigued Max. Beyond it water flowed, and he paused for a drink
before marveling at the tree once more.
Okay, no more marveling, another tummy-rumble told him, and off
along the water he trotted. Past more markers: 11, 12, past a great
fallen trunk, where he paused. "What an odd structure this is," he
thought. He was used to splashing through water whenever he wanted
to cross a river or stream, but this thing spanned the water below
it. Something in him made him want to cross it. Would it support
his weight? It creaked menacingly as he took a couple steps on it,
after which he raced across it quickly. Squeak, creak, squeak,
groan, it said under his weight. Once on the other side, he thought
his usual way would be better in the future. He looked around
briefly and noted a rather unlucky 13. Unlucky indeed! It looked at
though some Ceolophysis juvenile had used it to teethe on!
Max rolled his eyes, but his intestines rumbled again.
14 passed as he was along the water again, as he passed where a
number once resided, but now only a blank-topped platform. At a
junction he noticed another place for a mammal-o-saur to sit. He
realized that if he were to sit there, he would be facing the
correct direction to go.
Oh! What was this, ferns, a whole little forest of them, and
just about eye level with the young tyrannosaur, a bat cave. A bat
cave? Why yes, it must be one of those mammal things. Max tooted
like an giant flugelhorn, and smiled sheepishly as the ferns turned
rather brown, then hurried off yet again.
Another junction, 355° N this time. Another sign, "paint creek
trail", take the trail at 345°. This is getting desperate, Max is
almost at the end of his rope.
The stone in the middle of the path passed beneath his feet, but
he didn't really notice it much because he was looking left and
right for the perfect spot. He was sure he was close, he'd better
be close! He was almost there.
Three great grey sisters, Quercus their genus, stood to
right of the trail. The somewhat warty and largest nearer the
trail, the middle farthest away, and the young slender one in the
middle. "What a view!" Max hopped excitedly. He stepped off the
trail passing the sisters on their right, rather than their left,
and near the end of the furthest sister's fallen branch, Max made
his own hill.
Okay, that was millions of years ago, but the three sisters are
still there and the deposit you're seeking is tucked in a hollow
near the end of the fallen branch where Max made his deposit all
those many years ago. Replace the deposit, hiding it well for
others to discover.
Notes of interest: There's a lot of poison ivy growing off the
sides of the main trails, so take care. Bicycles are allowed on the
trails. It appears to be dog friendly, but do be sure to take a
container suitable for gathering doggy-doo (no dog hills allowed.
;-)).
This is a letterbox/geocache hybrid. Geocachers, please stamp
your logbook with the rubberstamp, but leave it for others.
Letterboxers, feel free to take a trinket, but leave one in its
place. Enjoy!
Cache page has had updates 11-28-07