Serrabou: 11 1/2 years ago I took a hike to this cache I won’t soon forget. Unfamiliar with the terrain I led old Serra and Bou up and down steep slopes as I followed the arrow as the crow flies. Such a noob.
But I was driven. I needed a code from this cache to solve a puzzle near my house. This was National Treasure in the flesh!
When I got close, the sky had opened up and the last hill in front of my was a dirt cliff. I leashed the exhausted dogs to a tree at the bottom of the ravine and went up for the find. It was so exciting. If I had to pick one cache that got me hooked on the hobby, this one’s it. It has the most awesome, isolated view along the entire river. It’s simply serene.
Geocaching is an ever-shifting “sport”. In Liver’s day, a dozen or so dedicated seekers solved inane puzzles, made difficult hikes, and dealt with thorn bushes extreme to find this series. As timed passed, there were fewer brave/idiotic hunters that came along.
And then there was a new breed. Clearing maps. Filling holes in grids. Collecting souvenirs and icons for inane challenges. “Someone knew where it was so I signed the log.” Hey that’s all good, float your boat as you see fit. As a hider and maintainer though, you’ve lost me.
Perhaps the generational gap is accelerated in caches and I’m a “boomer”. I’ll take the mantle and say this. Forget souvenirs and streaks and challenges and pasted logs and log lengths and calendar days and fizzy grids and geo trails and the niche-y geocoins. That should be bycatch.
Come explore. Dare yourself. Get lost in the woods with your dogs on a stormy day.
Make some memories.
Bye, Liver 6.