Anyway, I imagined this cache's CO (MtnMutt and his 6-year-old) enjoying a leisurely stroll down Hammy's Trail in May 2010 as they mulled over a cache placement. The elder regaled his child with stories of Hammy's greatness. It was a sweet idea to consider. And that's what was on my mind today as I parked my geomobile and headed for the next stage's coordinates.
What I came to realize, and the realization came not 5 minutes after parking my car, is that perhaps Hammy's Trail earned its moniker from a different source. It could be that, many years ago, a pair of incompetent fools stumbled down Mount Si Road on a cold winter's night. They'd spent the previous several hours at a North Bend tavern, imbiding for far too long, as they often did. On this evening, they zigged when they should have zagged, and found themselves trapped on a forelorn patch of land. To call it a trail would be generous. This area of thistles, steep ridges and perilous dropoffs was not fit for man nor beast. But they were too blind to see it in their states of mind. Before long, the duo found themselves lost from civilization, huddling for warmth on a tiny piece of briar-less ground. One of them pulled a scrap of paper and nubby pencil from his pocket. His hands trembling, he scribbled a few lines, describing what had led them to this horrible place, hoping someone would find the paper and know their story. He turned to his friend and asked, "What name shall we give this spot that doomed us?" The other man, barely conscious, looked up and uttered his final words, "Hammy's Trail." "Of course!" his friend thought. They would name it for Hamfred McHammerin, that awful bully who tormented them during their youth. Not only did Hamfred steal their lunch money and repeatedly trip them in the school hallways, but his breath stank of ham. He put ham on everything, even going so far as to use it as a topping for ice cream. For all of that, he came to be known as Hammy. And this is how Hammy's Trail received its name. A fitting title for an unwelcoming, thistle-filled domain.
This is a long-winded way of saying that any 6-year-old who can place this cache is not someone I would want to meet. Because I'm sure he could easily beat me up. And would likely enjoy doing it. Nevertheless, I survived, and I found the cache. TFTC!