Once the critters are
rescued this cache turns into a regular trading cache.
"Please Save us
in time for Halloween" –The Gargoylings
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Fledgling Gargoyles
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he harvest moon oversees the strange events
that inevitably happen this time of year. Leering out from behind gray wisps of
clouds casting its bright orange glow over the land and lighting the way for
weary travelers and geocachers. Gusts
of icy wind, like bony fingers, writhe into open garments, searching for exposed
skin to chill instantly into goose bumps. Blown
into haphazard piles, leaves scrap and scratch across sidewalks and roads,
putting up little resistance to the whims of the wind.
It must be Halloween and another story from the land of lore.
argoyles are a funny lot; not funny ha-ha but funny like the way a your elbow
feels when you smash it against something hard, usually not very funny at all.
They have one mission in life, which they take very seriously. Under all circumstances, be it the scalding heat of the summer sun or the biting
bitter cold of February, they’re charged with the task of gothically guarding
important buildings. Churches,
castles, monasteries and other such buildings need the constant protection of
the ever diligent gargoyle keeping a cold stone watch for the persistent evil
lurking in the dark shadows waiting for the slightest sign of weakness and a
opportunity to slither in and cause havoc.
o say that gargoyles have a poor sense of humour is an understatement.
A typical gargoyle joke goes something like this: "Why did the gargoyle
cross the road? …to step on the chicken." So when it comes to the tedious but
necessary task of renewing the species, which by the way only happens once every
150 years or so, they approach this obligation with a stern, emotionless and
mechanical meticulousness. When
thousands of years of evolution trigger primal urges a male and female get
together and scratch, bite, chew, tear and scream, twisting and bending to
finally collapse in a heap to only start over again within minutes of catching
their breath (you thought alley cats were bad).
These actions eventually culminate in the fabrication of up to six eggs
laid into a precariously built cobble, stone and gravel nest on some isolated
ledge in a dark corner of some grand structure. Where did you think gargoyles
came from, someone carved them from stone?
o raise gargoyles is a daunting task. To put it into perspective, on a
hot summer day, cram yourself into a mini van with 6 preschoolers and a motion
sick hound. Don’t pack any food, water or activities to keep the kids busy.
The air-conditioning and power windows don’t work.
Now drive from Toronto to Montreal. Do this every day and you get some
idea what the female gargoyle goes through. Like most winged creatures the
male’s job is finished after the eggs are laid, nice gig if you can get it.
n one particularly nasty, stormy night the wind was howling and the rain was of
the type that drives sideways, stinging your face at every gust.
Normally this type of weather wouldn’t affect the larger adults because
they are so heavy and a nest full of hatchlings are usually very safe as long as
the mother continues to sit on it. But
this night the female had it “Up To Here” with the little gargoylings
particularly when they recently discovered that they had needle sharp finger
nails that felt like for the most part a combination of knitting needles and
fish hooks being jammed into her hind end. With a final round of jabs and
snickers the mother had enough calmly raised her heavy body from the nest and
flapped away. It was time these
little hellions fledged and she’d been away from her post long enough.
he storm seemed to be waiting for their defenselessness to inflict its
intensity, for no sooner had the indignant female lifted away from the nest than
it unleashed its full furry directly at the venerable little fledglings with
massive blasts of wind and torrent rain. The
small creatures clamped their nails into the stone and each other trying to hold
on but to no avail, it was their time to fledge and the storm seemed to act with
intent snatching the little fledglings from the stony ledge and flinging the
group high into the stormy night. With
a bowed head the female watched as her offspring were torn from the lofty ledge. She was overheard whispering “good riddance…good luck
little ones” Then she turned away.
he young gargoyles flipped and spun for what seemed like hours. Choking down
volumes of rainwater they could hardly take a breath as they swirled with the
violent storm. Suddenly, without
warning, the tiny group still holding onto one another smashed headlong into the
treetops of a large forest. The branches seemed reach into the sky and snatch them into
their grasp and pull them down. With
a crack, growl and smash they hit the ground. Upon getting her balance one
particularly nasty gargoyling instantly ripped apart a small sapling tree out
disgust and frustration.
here were they? This place was like
nothing they had ever known. Everything was soft and organic, nothing like their
home of stone, mason and concrete. They seemed so low to the ground not high
like the ledges of the city. They
are defiantly out of their element and in need help.
an
you help? These creatures need to
get back to the safety of high stone ledges and concrete.
Because of the their nasty temperament you can only take one per team.
(You don’t want them to gang up on you; they haven't eaten in quite some
time). There are only six so you'll have to act quick.
This is a great night cache and since
there are
pathways all over this area there's no way to really get lost. The reflective eyes
of the creatures and peering eyes in and around the stash site show up very well in the dark with a small flashlight.
Please
log your visit on this site as soon a possible so that other can keep
track of how many Gargoyles are left.
Happy
hunting and have fun! |