The plethora of satellite imagery that is now available to us on
the Internet has opened our eyes to many wonders of the world
around us. One of the things I find intriguing when I take a look
at the aerial views of our area is the way in which the railroad
lines of days past shaped our urban landscape. It is interesting to
see how the shapes of many buildings and parking lots have long
sweeping curves to match the curvature of the railroad easements
that pass by. In many places the tracks are no longer present,
having been removed, leaving behind strange narrow greenbelts -- my
The Decachelon Club cache occupies one such
greenbelt. In other places the rails remain, but they are unused.
The ties are rotting, the switching mechanisms are broken and the
grade is choked with weeds. But these are also places of interest
for urban adventurers.
This cache is located at one such place. In fact, in days gone
by you could have, in theory, traveled from the posted coordinates
to the hide location by rail. Of course, you would have been
primarily riding on freight cars, and you would have been hard
pressed to find an itinerary that would get you from one point to
the other. So instead let's travel on an alternate set of
tracks.
We can start at the Pastel Blues, go Under The
Influence, and then past the Siren. We must skirt the
Death Magnetic and travel over the Mountains of Time
and see Fire Without Flame, an interesting sight in this
part of Americana.
The second leg of our journey starts with The Fury of Our
Maker's Hand. We then travel From Hell To Paradise so we
see Shades of Two Worlds and more Fire Without Flame
(toss Salt over your left shoulder for good luck). In the
end we can review our Travel Log, humming some Anthems of
Rebellion, and thinking about how The Whole Thing
Started.