Caching Dirty
They see me rollin
They hatin
Patrolling they tryin to catch me caching dirty
Isn't it just like me to throw in some obscure rap lyric? (Jen, if you're reading, remember that time I scared those guys when I busted out the NWA lyrics? Good times...)
For some reason Chamillionaire's "Ridin Dirty" was in my head today when I was caching and I couldn't get it out. It started when I took off in the morning with my kids to catch a few close ones that popped up during the night. The song hit my head when I was thinking about how these finds felt "dirty" to me, felt illicit. I was pondering this thought, like why couldn't I just feel good about finding these ones, and why not all caches are created equal.
There is some talk in the Groundspeak forums about a rating system for caches. I think it is a good idea. I wish there was some kind of system in place, but until then, we have to go with what we know. I don't want to get into the reasons why, but I have issues with a particular cacher in this area. There's been talk in various places of offenses done. My issues with him are not huge, and honestly he hasn't been really active this year so I thought he had dropped out of the game. He has not been on my radar, I guess is what I am saying, but when he was, I was sort of ignoring his caches. It was hard to ignore them for long, though, because he hides really close to me, and eventually I would get sick of seeing those unfound caches sitting there on my map and go get them.
Last night I was by my computer when I heard the new email alert, and saw three new caches pop up within 2 miles of my house. One was a park and grab, and if my husband had been home I would have gone for the FTF on it just to get another on my profile. I love First-To-Finds but caches around here get published late at night, and I hate night caching as much as I love FTFs, so it doesn't really go hand in hand. We have some vigilant FTF hounds around here, too, so if I wait until morning light, the moment is probably gone for me.
Anyway I was up early with the children and in a bad mood (due to some sleep disturbances the night before) so I decided to head out, thinking that caching would help me calm down. I had skipped my morning shower, or postponed really, on the off chance I would get dirty out on the trail, as well as opportunity. My husband was in bed sleeping off a hangover and my youngest was extra whiny this morning, so that combination really means no shower for me anyhow.
So here I am, dirty, and feeling dirty inside for going after these finds that I usually would wait on. It was almost like I felt that I was betraying my caching ethics, my code of honor in terms of going after caches that I knew would just bug me. And wouldn't you know, they did.
The PNG (park and grab) wasn't that bad. I was still doing okay. I had sent my oldest boy out to find it, though, while I finished manually entering the coords for the others (I didn't want to use the computer to download waypoints b/c it was right next to hubby) and he was not looking where I told him to, but all over everywhere else. I had to get the young one out and go help, and as soon as I walked up, I saw it right where I had told him to look in the first place. That was fine, though, and we set out for the next one.
Okay, so the next one has listed on the cache page as having the following attributes that I keyed into: stroller friendly, and kid friendly. I look for those attributes when I cache with my kids. Well, it was really neither of those, and I realized this as I saw where the GPS was leading me - into and across a gully. There were three options for crossing: jumping from the drainpipe, going through the knee high water, or stepping on a rock in the middle, none of which I wanted to do with the littlest one. This is where the irritation sets in. Of course, my oldest one had already made the jump from the pipe and now the youngest wanted to follow, so I had to hurry him out of there and urge the older one to get back where we were so we could walk down the trail aways to a bridge to make the crossing. Then we ended up having to come back down on the other side, and as the older son was making like a goat and jumping back and forth over the gully, I found the cache right next to me.
The next one was again in a gully, this time down an incline with rocks and briars and now I have a briar thorn stuck in my finger from the retrieve and...I'm still irritated. I had to pull five thorns out of my hand on the way back to the car (and apparently missed one). My biggest complaint of the three is that none of them had proper logs, just a torn piece of paper inside, no stash note, owner info, nothing. Cachin dirty....
So now my bad mood has gotten worse, and I am starting to turn into the Mommy Monster. Nobody likes the Mommy Monster, who starts telling one to "start listening!" and the other to "stop whining!", and directing the dogs to "go lay down already!" Luckily, my husband heard the signs of the Mommy Monster when I came home and took over so I could transition back.
A cool bath, a change of clothes, a whole new attitude. Was I done caching dirty? Was I done caching?
No! The young one fell asleep and the older one wanted to watch TV, and no one was interested in our original plans to go fishing/caching at the Peckinpaugh Reserve, but no one minded either if I left to do a little solo caching. So I took the dogs and headed out to get some nearest off my list.
First stop: Dixieland. I'd been out to this cache before six months ago and logged one of the few Did-Not-Finds on it. I had approached from the wrong direction and there were thorns everywhere, and other posts mention having to search through the briars, so I brought my handy-dandy hiking stick (aka "geo-stick) for poking. I was prepared. My dogs and I hiked the 0.12 mile down the gully and I walked right up to the cache, no poking necessary. I swear I looked there before! Anyway, I started walking back to the car and realized I was missing my geo-stick, and went back to the cache to retrieve it - I must have set it down to sign the log. When I was leaving the cache site this time, a briar brush came flying out of nowhere and smacked me on the ass! I think it was the caching karma sneaking up on me, maybe trying to catch me for caching dirty, or for feeling smug that I had managed to find and replace the cache without getting briar stuck or thorn poked. At any rate, the whole way back to the car I am trying to pull the bitty briar prickles out of my pants and wondering how the heck I am going to sit down now without getting stabbed. Luckily this was not an issue.
Second stop: Jackson's cache. Yes, I am cache-backwards. I want to use another term but we have to be PC. I don't know why I can't find this one, but sometimes caching makes me feel really obtuse. But this was my only DNF for the day, that counts for something right?
Third stop: Pappy's Pants. Yes, I have posted the only DNF on this cache in the 4+ months it has been out, 20 finds. But not today! The funniest parts of my day happened here. One was on the approach with my dogs. There was a barbed wire fence partially lowered by a falling tree that we had to cross over. My young dog just jumped right over it, but my old one, he wouldn't budge. He was scared of the jump. So I had to pick him up, all seventy pounds, and LIFT him over, silly thing. The second funny part was the cache itself. You will just have to see it to understand, but my friend Rhonda really outdid herself on this one. Oh, and on the way back to the car? The dog jumped.
Fourth stop: Faulkey Gully's Forgotten Freedmen. I almost didn't stop here. I w
as almost thirsty and running out of time. I am so glad I did. Ironically, I drove around and around trying to find the best place to park, and ended up parking in the worst possible place in terms of distance and geography. I realized after walking about 0.12 mile down the gully that I was on the wrong side, and had to do a water crossing. Off went the shoes, but down went the jean legs, and I ended up from then on wearing pants wet halfway to my knees. Found the cache, though! Got a TB out of the deal, too! Walked the long way back to my car to avoid another water crossing.
About an hour later, I am sitting on the couch with my toddler eating cheese and crackers, and he keeps dropping cheese on my pants, and it strikes me how absolutely filthy they are. I have a painful pointer finger with a briar stuck in it and several new scratches on my right forearm.
And that's what you get for caching dirty.
They see me rollin
They hatin
Patrolling they tryin to catch me caching dirty
Isn't it just like me to throw in some obscure rap lyric? (Jen, if you're reading, remember that time I scared those guys when I busted out the NWA lyrics? Good times...)
For some reason Chamillionaire's "Ridin Dirty" was in my head today when I was caching and I couldn't get it out. It started when I took off in the morning with my kids to catch a few close ones that popped up during the night. The song hit my head when I was thinking about how these finds felt "dirty" to me, felt illicit. I was pondering this thought, like why couldn't I just feel good about finding these ones, and why not all caches are created equal.
There is some talk in the Groundspeak forums about a rating system for caches. I think it is a good idea. I wish there was some kind of system in place, but until then, we have to go with what we know. I don't want to get into the reasons why, but I have issues with a particular cacher in this area. There's been talk in various places of offenses done. My issues with him are not huge, and honestly he hasn't been really active this year so I thought he had dropped out of the game. He has not been on my radar, I guess is what I am saying, but when he was, I was sort of ignoring his caches. It was hard to ignore them for long, though, because he hides really close to me, and eventually I would get sick of seeing those unfound caches sitting there on my map and go get them.
Last night I was by my computer when I heard the new email alert, and saw three new caches pop up within 2 miles of my house. One was a park and grab, and if my husband had been home I would have gone for the FTF on it just to get another on my profile. I love First-To-Finds but caches around here get published late at night, and I hate night caching as much as I love FTFs, so it doesn't really go hand in hand. We have some vigilant FTF hounds around here, too, so if I wait until morning light, the moment is probably gone for me.
Anyway I was up early with the children and in a bad mood (due to some sleep disturbances the night before) so I decided to head out, thinking that caching would help me calm down. I had skipped my morning shower, or postponed really, on the off chance I would get dirty out on the trail, as well as opportunity. My husband was in bed sleeping off a hangover and my youngest was extra whiny this morning, so that combination really means no shower for me anyhow.
So here I am, dirty, and feeling dirty inside for going after these finds that I usually would wait on. It was almost like I felt that I was betraying my caching ethics, my code of honor in terms of going after caches that I knew would just bug me. And wouldn't you know, they did.
The PNG (park and grab) wasn't that bad. I was still doing okay. I had sent my oldest boy out to find it, though, while I finished manually entering the coords for the others (I didn't want to use the computer to download waypoints b/c it was right next to hubby) and he was not looking where I told him to, but all over everywhere else. I had to get the young one out and go help, and as soon as I walked up, I saw it right where I had told him to look in the first place. That was fine, though, and we set out for the next one.
Okay, so the next one has listed on the cache page as having the following attributes that I keyed into: stroller friendly, and kid friendly. I look for those attributes when I cache with my kids. Well, it was really neither of those, and I realized this as I saw where the GPS was leading me - into and across a gully. There were three options for crossing: jumping from the drainpipe, going through the knee high water, or stepping on a rock in the middle, none of which I wanted to do with the littlest one. This is where the irritation sets in. Of course, my oldest one had already made the jump from the pipe and now the youngest wanted to follow, so I had to hurry him out of there and urge the older one to get back where we were so we could walk down the trail aways to a bridge to make the crossing. Then we ended up having to come back down on the other side, and as the older son was making like a goat and jumping back and forth over the gully, I found the cache right next to me.
The next one was again in a gully, this time down an incline with rocks and briars and now I have a briar thorn stuck in my finger from the retrieve and...I'm still irritated. I had to pull five thorns out of my hand on the way back to the car (and apparently missed one). My biggest complaint of the three is that none of them had proper logs, just a torn piece of paper inside, no stash note, owner info, nothing. Cachin dirty....
So now my bad mood has gotten worse, and I am starting to turn into the Mommy Monster. Nobody likes the Mommy Monster, who starts telling one to "start listening!" and the other to "stop whining!", and directing the dogs to "go lay down already!" Luckily, my husband heard the signs of the Mommy Monster when I came home and took over so I could transition back.
A cool bath, a change of clothes, a whole new attitude. Was I done caching dirty? Was I done caching?
No! The young one fell asleep and the older one wanted to watch TV, and no one was interested in our original plans to go fishing/caching at the Peckinpaugh Reserve, but no one minded either if I left to do a little solo caching. So I took the dogs and headed out to get some nearest off my list.
First stop: Dixieland. I'd been out to this cache before six months ago and logged one of the few Did-Not-Finds on it. I had approached from the wrong direction and there were thorns everywhere, and other posts mention having to search through the briars, so I brought my handy-dandy hiking stick (aka "geo-stick) for poking. I was prepared. My dogs and I hiked the 0.12 mile down the gully and I walked right up to the cache, no poking necessary. I swear I looked there before! Anyway, I started walking back to the car and realized I was missing my geo-stick, and went back to the cache to retrieve it - I must have set it down to sign the log. When I was leaving the cache site this time, a briar brush came flying out of nowhere and smacked me on the ass! I think it was the caching karma sneaking up on me, maybe trying to catch me for caching dirty, or for feeling smug that I had managed to find and replace the cache without getting briar stuck or thorn poked. At any rate, the whole way back to the car I am trying to pull the bitty briar prickles out of my pants and wondering how the heck I am going to sit down now without getting stabbed. Luckily this was not an issue.
Second stop: Jackson's cache. Yes, I am cache-backwards. I want to use another term but we have to be PC. I don't know why I can't find this one, but sometimes caching makes me feel really obtuse. But this was my only DNF for the day, that counts for something right?
Third stop: Pappy's Pants. Yes, I have posted the only DNF on this cache in the 4+ months it has been out, 20 finds. But not today! The funniest parts of my day happened here. One was on the approach with my dogs. There was a barbed wire fence partially lowered by a falling tree that we had to cross over. My young dog just jumped right over it, but my old one, he wouldn't budge. He was scared of the jump. So I had to pick him up, all seventy pounds, and LIFT him over, silly thing. The second funny part was the cache itself. You will just have to see it to understand, but my friend Rhonda really outdid herself on this one. Oh, and on the way back to the car? The dog jumped.Fourth stop: Faulkey Gully's Forgotten Freedmen. I almost didn't stop here. I w
as almost thirsty and running out of time. I am so glad I did. Ironically, I drove around and around trying to find the best place to park, and ended up parking in the worst possible place in terms of distance and geography. I realized after walking about 0.12 mile down the gully that I was on the wrong side, and had to do a water crossing. Off went the shoes, but down went the jean legs, and I ended up from then on wearing pants wet halfway to my knees. Found the cache, though! Got a TB out of the deal, too! Walked the long way back to my car to avoid another water crossing.About an hour later, I am sitting on the couch with my toddler eating cheese and crackers, and he keeps dropping cheese on my pants, and it strikes me how absolutely filthy they are. I have a painful pointer finger with a briar stuck in it and several new scratches on my right forearm.
And that's what you get for caching dirty.
2 comments:
Cachin' dirty is still better than not caching at all. I say you sit back look at your new smileys and plan your next trip. Tupac would be proud.
Geocaching With Team Hick@Heart
Sounds like a bad day. I don't like those kind either. Thanks for the comment on our blog and yes that dog does laugh! :}
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