Mon, Dec 8, 2008

The Nebraskache forums had a contest to come up with “caching” carols. The names mentioned are specific to our local group but feel free to substitute others you know for your singing (or needling) pleasure. The following are Vic’s submissions. 

Sioneva, the Red-Haired Cacher   (Rudolph, The Red Nosed Reindeer)

You know Neva and bosac
And boobear and roper,
kryptos and cachephrase
And mohjoe and jynjur.
But do you recall
The most famous cacher of all?

Sioneva the red-haired cacher
wearing her hiking clothes
And if you ever spy her
with the garmin off she goes
All of the other cachers
Used to mispronounce her name
Once they ever met poor Sioneva
They were never quite the same

Then one foggy moonless Eve
Twinstar came to say
Sioneva with your hair so bright
Won't you find my cache tonight?
Then all the cachers loved her
And they shouted out with glee
"Sioneva the red-haired cacher
You'll go down in history!"

 

 

Waylaid in a Cornfield   (Away in a Manger)

Waylaid in a cornfield, no stalks o'er his head
the sneaky old cacher looks down as he read.
Satellites in the sky beam down where He stay,
The sneaky old cacher, on with out delay.

The winds they are blowing, the coyote awakes,
But sneaky old cacher, no sighting He makes;
I love this geocaching, he says with a sigh
And looks for the micro till morning is nigh.

So near me, ground zero, the corn starts to sway
Close by, my gp-er, don’t lead me astray;
sneaks to the barbed wire as close as he dare,
and sees the nano whose finding is rare.

 

We the Sneaks   (We Three Kings)

We the sneaks of Omaha are;
Bearing garmin we travel so far,
Fields and fountains, poles and mountains,
Follow a satellite star.

Refrain:
O cars off shoulders, skirts on lights,
possum giving me such a fright,
Joe is leading, still proceeding,
Guiding us to the perfect site.

Nasty nano is our only bane
look under bleachers, it’s such a pain,
search forever, finding never,
driving us all insane.

refrain:
O cars off shoulders, skirts on lights,
possum giving me such a fright,
Joe is leading, still proceeding,
Guiding us to the perfect site.

 

Let Us Go!   (Let it Snow)

Oh the weather outside is frightful,
But the find is so delightful,
And since we've no FTF to show,
Let Us Go! Let us go! Let us go!

Joe doesn't show signs of stopping,
And I've bought some swag for dropping,
our numbers are way down low,
Let us go! Let us go! Let us go!

When we finally hit the site,
How I'll hate falling down in the thorn!
But if I really hold on tight,
only the knees in my pants will be torn.

The batteries are slowly dying,
That’s delphiniums car I’m spying,
It’s under that stump I know,
Let us go! Let us go! Let us go!

 

What Cache Is This?   (What Child is This?)

What Cache is this? Who hid this one?
Our garmin map is leading
to coordinates over yonder creek,
the muggles watch us creeping
This, this is “tongue in cheek”,
Whom opossums guard and crickets sing:
Haste, haste to find it soon,
a noise, someone is coming!

So bring your flashlight, pen, and swag,
your cacher friends to sign it,
The log of kings, elation brings,
Let nimble people find them.
Raise, raise the eyes up high,
We can’t let this one pass us by:
Joy, joy, we found the cache,
a noise, someone is coming!

 

GP-er in Our Hand   (Winter Wonderland)

There’s a cache, everyone listen,
in the hills, ammos glisten
hidden from sight,
We’ll get it tonight,
walking with our gp-er in our hand.

Not today finding tupperware,
cross the creek, only if we dare
coords must be wrong,
it’s taking too long,
walking with our gp-er in our hand.

on the trail we see where all the deer have been,
watching closely as we step around
Vicki’s slowly bringing
up the rear again.
we need to hurry or
the cache is found

It’s the find we desire,
as we wade thru the mire
To find where it’s laid,
With swag we can trade,
walking with our gp-er in our hand.

 

Publisher Note: Woohoo! Great stuff!   Cachers, let us hear yours!

By TheAlabamaRambler   Mon, Apr 21, 2008

This is YOUR free magazine, created as a gift to the geocaching community to provide you entertainment and enlightenment. The Online Geocacher is an online medium for geocachers to publish all things geocaching. The Online Geocacher is everything you wish to make it but only what you make of it... submit content and it will thrive!

It is up to you, the geocaching community member, to provide the content!

Who? Me? You talkin' to me?

Yes! We're talking to you! The impetus for this magazine came from a topic on the forums of geocaching.com wherein several geocachers expressed a desire for a geocaching magazine. There have been and still are several attempts to create such a magazine. This magazine is provided to the geocaching community not to compete but to present a free alternative. Choice is good. This is but one.

The basic concept here is that we will provide the magazine structure, editing and management - Geocachers who wish for there to be such a magazine as this will provide the content.

For that to work YOU have to be willing to write something and submit it to this magazine.

Yes, your stories and experiences are important. People want to read them! You do not have to be 'a writer', anyone can tell a story. If you want help with your writing, we will be glad to provide whatever level of help you desire. If you want your story told in your words, that's fine too.

When we say that this is YOUR magazine we mean it literally and personally... without your input we have nothing. Write something, anything, and my bet is that you will enjoy the experience so well that you will continue to do so! Before long you will have a readership eager for your stories... Voila! You ARE a writer!

Well... "Write something" is a pretty broad request, can you be more specific? No. Write about whatever is on your mind! I know that doesn't help much, but it goes to the heart and spirit of what this magazine is all about... geocacher's stories and content. The volunteer staff of The Online Geocacher stands ready to help you develop your content, but we do not want to guide the magazine in our direction... we want you to take it in yours!

By TheAlabamaRambler   Fri, Jul 11, 2008

I found a really nice video listed as Video Of The Month on the Iowa Geocachers website and it gave me the idea that we should list links to geocaching videos here.

Send me links as you find them!

Here are Briansnat and SkiGirl building and hiding a cache -
http://www.youtube.com/v/4YM36K0Z6yo&hl=en&fs=1

By TheAlabamaRambler   Sun, Jul 27, 2008

An online discussion forum has been created for readers of The Online Geocacher at http://w4aga.com/forums/index.php

Please post comments, ideas and criticism there, as well as carry on discussion in general about The Online Geocacher.

By Paul Gillin   Fri, Aug 22, 2008

Two years ago, my wife told me about a new outdoor activity she'd read about in the newspaper called geocaching. “It's kind of a treasure hunt with global positioning systems," she said. I rolled my eyes "Yeah, how geeky is that," I smirked.

By TheAlabamaRambler   Wed, Aug 27, 2008

Check out Geocaching Online, especially the Directory tab with links to hundreds of interesting geocaching-related resources.

Mon, Jul 7, 2008

There seem to be quite a few stories on here of animal rescues that have occurred due to geocaching activities. I’m here to add our animal rescue and adoption story.

The concept of Earthcaches had caught my interest, and when we saw a new one pop up in a town nearby we decided to go after it. Well, one of us was grumpy and the weather wasn’t quite the best and the other hadn’t explained the logging requirements very well (the longish hike to the second coordinates) so it didn’t get off to a good start. Of course, knowing his place in the world, the non grumpy cacher offered to end the hunt and go home, to which grumpy replied no “we’re here, we’ll finish it” meaning "you owe me!"

We did finish the hike and got a few more caches in town and the mood did improve but I had the feeling our next Earthcache would be when dramatic weather changes occurred in the fiery regions. So imagine my surprise when a week later while planning a cache trip to Sioux Falls and suggested there were two Earthcaches nearby I got the ok! Probably because she had always wanted to see the falls and that was one of the Earthcaches.

The first day of our trip was typical caching in a new place, with tours of neat areas we wouldn’t normally visit or know about intermingled with DNF nano’s and wrong turns following the GPS arrow. Then checking into the motel we settled in, got dinner, then found a few more nearby caches and spent the rest of the evening relaxing and going over our bug/coin/swag haul for the day.

We woke before dawn, well before dawn (we were excited about our plans for the day), checked out and headed for the falls. It was a cold, late October morning and we were shivering as we explored the Falls park and took our pics. Neat place, cool Earthcache. Back into the car to warm up and hop from nearest waypoint to nearest waypoint, making our way towards the state line. We had a bug that wanted its picture taken at “Welcome to___ ( insert state name)” signs and we were going to add our fourth state line of the weekend to its gallery. We snap the pic and find a quick cache to add another state to our stats.

It was getting on into the early afternoon and we had another Earthcache to visit before heading home, “The Rocks of Gitchie Manitou.” From the gallery we knew it was a pretty, special place, but as often is the case we enjoyed many more things about the area.

Following the trail from where we parked we passed the curious sight of a fork stuck into a log and, making the obligatory fork in the road joke, we hiked on to a ruined lodge made from the Sioux Quartzite rock that was abundant here.

Taking what was going to be our last pic before the camera battery died, we head onward over lichen-covered outcroppings of hard red rock to the goal of the pond surrounded by the rocks of Gitchie Manitou. We gazed in wonder at the sight of green water surrounded by red rock with sacred art painted along the cliffs.

As we gazed, we began to hear a bird calling rather insistently, but we couldn’t spot it in the bare tree tops. We heard the bird off and on while we discussed how we might log the cache without the required pic and wrote down the answer to the second part of the logging requirement.

As we started to walk toward the car our curiosity got the best of us since there had been something strange about the birdcall all along and we had commented on that to each other.

Approaching a fallen log near some likely trees in the direction of the sound, we saw the grass move and I thought "Oh great! A snake or a rat is running around here!"

Looking more closely my wife ended up scooping up a little tiny kitten just barely old enough to have its eyes open! So that explains the “not quite” sound of the bird call that had led us here. Looking around for litter-mates or momma cat we saw absolutely none and no indication how this little girl got to be here.

Vic, having a soft spot in her heart for kitties (she’s the cats of Catsnfish) took her with us because we couldn’t leave her to be hawk food and the coming night would be too cold.

Shhh... don’t tell anyone, but I have a soft spot too, so I insisted on naming the cute little kitty “Gitchie Bird” for obvious reasons. Hitting the nearest Wal-Mart we picked up a carrier and some food and took our 'bird ' home after a very enjoyable caching trip.

Oops! Oh No! That soft spot is coming out again so I’ll attach some pics and a bad but heartfelt poem.

On a cool autumn caching day

Sat, Jul 19, 2008

Where did we leave off? That’s it! "And we now plan our caching trips around earthcaches."

"So what should we do for our anniversary?"
Most wives might say dinner and dancing or a movie.
"How about a cache trip? We’ll take a whole week off."
"Not a bad idea but we can’t afford to spend too much."

"OK! We can camp in the van and bring our own food, yeah, that will work... but we need to do a few things first. We’ll need curtains if we plan on getting any sleep, and our air mattress is too big to use in the van..."

A futon cushion offered by one of our sons was a first step, but how to make the curtains? I get an email at work saying she found the perfect material for the curtains, and we already had it. We can use Velcro to keep them up.

Coming home I spot the material, "Dear, where did you get that plaid?" "It was in the closet and, we had 8 yards!" "I was going to make a kilt from that" "Oops, well look at it this way, how often do you really need to wear a skirt, and how often do you wear the one you have?"

I couldn’t fault the reasoning but made some cutting suggestions anyway, (you could do that with fabric, but why?) that may eventually let me squeak out a kilt from the remaining tartan. Self-adhesive Velcro wouldn’t hold the weight of the curtains, so we tried Superglue to hold the Velcro to the van interior... that worked, until we tried to put the curtains up. Oh screw it! (light bulb goes on) so we got some little brass screws and they worked out great. A quick oil change and some Icy Hot for my wrist and the van was ready.



Our last cache trip, while enjoyable, had left us frustrated... driving in circles or making wrong turns, so we decided we needed mapping software. A little research and discussion led us to decide on Microsoft Streets and Trips. It had its own GPS receiver and would give us turn-by-turn directions!

Watching several listings on eBay, we got a feel for what they were going for and began our bidding efforts. Outbid! "We ain’t bidding that much!" Outbid again! Then finally we had ‘Shopped Victoriously’ (I love that phrase) and it was on its way. We had asked the seller to turn the GPS on before shipping so we could see if it could track our shipment better than the post office did. It got the intended laugh and smiley. As it turned out, it arrived just after we got home from the trip. We did get a power inverter for the laptop and other electronics. This would end up being a very important item for this trip.

Now imagine all that you’ve just read with a small, intermittent background... a *kaff, kaff* noise. It wasn’t bad enough to cancel the trip, but the font size was getting bigger *kaff, kaff!*. A little bronchitis won’t slow me down. I make a note to take the nebulizer we use for our son’s asthma.

OK, we’re loaded, double-checked our list, all set to go. Des Moines-bound for the confluence of the Des Moines and Raccoon rivers. We find a few caches along the route but make pretty quick time. Principal Park, the home of the Iowa Cubs, is nestled in the fork of the rivers so we had *kaff* to get pics for one of our sons, the Chicago Cubs fan. Neat stadium.



To log the confluence Earthcache, we needed to measure the width of each river using the GPS. Set a waypoint, walk to the other end of each of two bridges and read the distance. Completing the measurements we hit nearest waypoint and found out we had walked right by one, twice. Found it, signed the log and got back into the warmth of the car. It was a cold, blustery day for standing on bridges *kaff.*

We drive around town finding a few caches between circling and wrong turns, where was that software? We noted some cache ideas new to us and DNFed our share as well. The next Earthcache, Bedrock, was fairly *kaff* close by so we made the drive to Saylorville Lake. This area came into being after the emergency spillway of the dam was open for 16 days because of a flood in 1984. The rush of water exposed some really interesting sedimentary features, with fossils, lime, sandstones and a thin layer of coal that blackened the mud in spots.



We took some great pics, wrote down the answers for the log and walked back along the gentle grade to the parking spot.

*kaff! kaff!*

I was really winded from the walk, so I plugged the nebulizer into the inverter and starting feeling better,*kaff*; before the treatment had finished the fuse for the car’s 12 volt output had burnt out. The nebulizer was pulling too many amps and we had no spare fuse (cue ominous background music).

The Legends State Park was our next stop. It was another Earthcache and camping was available. We had planned on staying here. The road that would lead us to the coordinates was closed but the walking trail was open so we started down the trail, *kaff*, had to stop to breathe, *kaff*.

"Maybe we better go back" my wife said, "No, I want to finish this Earthcache" I replied, while leaning over my walking stick. *kaff*.

I was stubborn, but when she said she could probably find another way down I agreed. I could have hiked on down but no way could I ever have walked it back up. By the way, my wife is an excellent navigator despite the wrong turns and circling... personally, we blame that on city planners.

I’m glad she found the way. This is Vic’s favorite Earthcache so far, a beautiful sandstone canyon with a babbling brook running through it. The soft sandstone was marred by the names and dates scratched into it, but those were interesting in themselves as well. There is even a feature that if viewed from the right angle shows up as a face.



We probably spent about an hour and a half here before moving on.

Now here is where a good wife comes in; she says that she is really worried about the late spring snow in the forecast and would like to try to get home before the storm.
"I suppose you’re right but you won’t be disappointed we didn’t get more caches, will you?" *kaff!*

Day one of vacation ends and we didn’t even make it to van camp. The end of day two brings an ambulance to our door. *Gasp, Gasp!!*

Five days in the hospital with my first asthma attack, a couple of weeks to recuperate and we were ready for another road trip!

To be continued...

Sat, Jul 26, 2008

“Dear, I can take some time off in June, wanna plan another cache trip?” “Ok, you’re not going to get sick again are you?” Naaaah.

So we pick out one Earthcache to visit and start to plan, but this time we’ll also be researching to develop an Earthcache as well. We pick Pipestone Minnesota for the Earthcache and the one we want to develop would be in Ponca State Park in Nebraska.

So I start running a pocket query for the area and I notice there is another Earthcache within 15 miles of Pipestone, the Des Moines Headwaters. ”Dear?”… “Forgot it didn’t you?” I bleat out a Tim Allen “huh??”, “My name, you forgot it, so you called me Dear.” Ok, one of those playful moods, I can work with this. Yes! I get the nod to add the headwaters to our trip, but I’m warned we don’t want to put on too many miles with the skyrocketing gas prices. I had the card to play against that, but I was holding it close to my chest for now.

I had been playing with Google Earth and on a whim threw in the Earthcache that was closest, as the crow flies, to our home, Ocheyedan Mound. Hmmm, it is almost directly south of the Des Moines Headwaters, which means it would hardly add any miles at all to our trip! “Dear! We best get this one too!” I yelled toward the other room where she was reading. “I’ll look later.” I had found out a long time ago it’s definitely best not to interrupt the flow of the historical romance novels she prefers. I used the extra time to prepare my case for the additional stop.

“It’s a hill?” “No honey, it’s an Earthcache, it’s more than a hill!” I explain it is a kame’ and that it is the second highest point in Iowa, then I explain what a kame’ is. ”So it’s a gravel hill!” Yeah... I better change tactics, quick, “and it’s the closest Earthcache from here, but if we don’t get it on this trip, we’ll have to make a special trip for just it, all by itself, some other time, so if we go now we save a lot of miles in the future and gas is just going to get more and more expensive.” The card was on the table, and she thought about it and replied, laughing, “You win, you can be Jack and I’ll be Jill.” She was almost prophetic.

Three Earthcaches picked out and now we need to find (said with the big announcers voice) CACHES ALONG A ROUTE, which is neither a complicated nor simple operation depending on what you want to do. To run the cache along a route query you must first create and save a .kml extension file in Google Earth. Not too hard, pick point a, pick point b and Google Earth connects them with the optimal route. The problem is you can’t pick a point c. Also the route chosen by Google Earth may not be the desired route. No problem, there is a workaround. (What follows is the part where if you used the big announcer voice above, would be the required mumble, that is blurted as quickly as possible at the end of a car commercial. Take a deep breath here, you’ll need it.)... Justbreakyourtripdownintosegmentsandcreateandsavethemultiplekmlfilesfindthemultiple

Wed, Aug 6, 2008

It was nearing sunrise with no sign of Joe or the police. They should have arrived hours ago. As Mark sat silent in the darkness, worry began to grow. What if something had happened to Joe? They couldn't wait here forever. Time was not on their side.

As if sensing his concern, Maddy stirred and sat upright. She was gazing around at the forest. With eyes adjusted to the darkness, she was surprised at how much detail she could make out under the starlight. Mark reached over and touched her forearm to get her attention.

"They should be here by now," Mark whispered.

She nodded, pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them, drawing herself into a ball.

"We need to come up with a plan B."

Maddy shrugged.

"I'm going to go further out in this direction and see if we come to another road or some kind of trail; something you might be able to make in bare feet."

Her eyes widened and she whispered, "You're leaving me here?"

"It'll just be for a few minutes," he explained. "According to the GPS, there's a marsh back here. If I don't find anything within a quarter mile, I'll hit the marsh and have to come back."

"What happened to your friend?"

He looked at his feet. After a few moments he answered, "I don't know."

"What if something happens to you?"

Mark saw that the knife he had given her earlier was laying on the ground next to her. He picked it up, reached over to grab her by the hand, and pressed the handle of the knife into her palm. She grasped it, looked into his eyes and nodded.

"Nothing will happen."

She nodded again.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Someone was moving out there. He had waited all night. It was just a question of whose patience ran out first. He had all the patience in the world and it sounded like it was about to pay off. The sound was coming from the area he'd followed them to last night, but it seemed to be moving away. Were they looking for another way out? It didn't matter, because there wasn't any other way.

He began to move toward the sound, trying to avoid making his own noise. Hunting his target out here in the woods and in the dark would add an unusual flavor to the fun. Formulating a quick plan, he decided he would follow them until they hit the marsh and were forced to turn back. Then he would just wait for them to come to him. The anticipation was sweet.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maddy sat alone, clutching her knees to her chest and grasping the handle of the knife. She could hear Mark breaking twigs and crushing leaves as he left. The sounds became softer until they disappeared all together, but then the sounds began again from the other direction. Could it be Joe Merchant? Or the police? If it were, wouldn't they be calling out? She slowly and silently stretched out her legs and lay on her belly, snuggling under a nearby bush, facing the direction of the approaching sound. The cracking and crunching continued to move closer but eventually passed her on the right and continued on until it too diminished into silence. She assured herself that it was just an animal as she again sat up, clasping the knife even tighter in her hand. An animal indeed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The vehicles were parked along the road at the entrance to the Nassau Wildlife Management area. Over a dozen uniformed men milled about, as well as several dressed in civilian clothes. A glow had begun to form on the eastern horizon as several of the men gathered in a circle and began talking.

Deputy Littlepage watched the group. Detective Byrd was at the center, periodically pointing in the direction of the forest; most of the others just nodded. A uniformed state trooper approached and began to converse with Byrd. One of the other men began to point to several of the vehicles, shaking his head at several of them. Byrd broke away from the group and approached Littlepage. "The Fish and Wildlife guy says the General Lee won't make it into the area we're heading, so we're going to ride with him in a four wheel drive truck," Byrd explained, "The state boys brought a couple of Cherokees."

"We gonna have any helicopters?" Littlepage asked.

"There's one standing by in Hilliard. It can be here within a few minutes if we need it, but we don't want to spook him and send him running. At least not until we get closer."

"Good idea. They say there's no other way out of here, but I'm not so sure."

"Exactly. And then there's the Wade girl."

"If she's still alive."

"If. In any case, we don't want to panic him."

"So what's the plan?" Littlepage asked.

"The first stop on the way in is that cache. It's apparently right off this old rail bed. We'll leave a couple people there to gather evidence and the rest will head to that waypoint. The Fish and Wildlife guy says it's rough going. It's not even in the WMA, but it's only accessible through here. Apparently this place is surrounded by a lot of private hunting land."

"Do we know who owns it?"

"Not yet. Captain Wilde has some people working on that."

One of the men in a Florida Fish and Wildlife Service uniform called to them, "Time to load up."

"Let's roll," Byrd said to Littlepage.

A few minutes later, they were in a line of vehicles making their way down the rocky road. Byrd sat in the front seat with the driver; Littlepage sat in the back seat. Once they were on their way, Byrd motioned to the backseat, "By the way, this is Deputy Littlepage." He then pointed to the driver, turned to Littlepage and said, "This is Officer Harwood of the Florida Fish and Wildlife Service."

"Good to meet you," Littlepage said.

"Same here," said Harwood. "You boys ever been out here?"

"Can't say we have," Byrd answered, "At least I haven't."

"Me neither," added Littlepage.

"Well, it's a big area. The WMA itself is about five miles wide and five miles deep. Then it's surrounded by private land that's pretty much the same. Planted pine, forest and marshland. Most of the time it's pretty difficult to even tell where the boundaries actually are."

"Sounds like a great place to hide," said Byrd.

"You got that right," said Harwood. "Hopefully these waypoints will narrow it down."

"Are you familiar with Geocaching?" Littlepage asked.

"Oh yeah. I got involved through the Service. Some Fish and Wildlife land requires permits to place a cache. I'm the lucky guy who gets to go check them out to issue the permits. Of course, I sign the log while I'm there."

"Of course," Littlepage chuckled.

"I haven't logged this one. Am I going to be able to sign it?"

"I'm afraid it's evidence. Maybe even a crime scene," Byrd answered.

"Maybe I'll log it anyway. On line I mean."

Littlepage laughed and said, "We got us a numbers ho here."

Byrd just shook his head and watched the road in front of the vehicle. They would be at "Alien Listening Post" in a matter of minutes.

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Mark's feet were getting wet. The forest had given way to marsh. Aside from some cypress trees at the edge, the terrain was now flat and open. It would be nice traveling, if it weren't muck. He hadn't come across any other road, or even so much as a game trail. It was clear this was not a way out. He extracted his feet from the wet mud and retreated toward where he had left Maddy.

While the sun had not broken the horizon yet, there was already quite a bit of light. It made it a little easier to watch where he stepped so he could move quietly. He made his way though the forest in silence, passing alternating patches of palmettos, thick brush and open rows of planted pine.

"Hello there," came a voice from ahead. Mark jumped at the sound and squinted into the sparse light. He made out a man standing about 25 yards ahead of him. At first he seemed only a shadow against the background of trees, but as Mark's eyes adjusted, he could make out some of his features. He was in a uniform of some kind and he looked familiar.

"You scared the hell out of me," Mark responded.

"Sorry about that," the man offered. "Where's the girl?"

"She's..." Mark caught himself as his brain shifted into the fast lane. He did recognize this man. It was Pete, the Forest Ranger from Jennings Forest. The one he ran into after finding the first body. This wasn't Forestry land; what was he doing here? Pete was walking toward him and Mark could see he was holding a gun. Did Forest Rangers carry pistols? This was bad.

Mark ran to his right and dove into a tall patch of palmettos. His racing heart told him this was the guy. In the course of his dive, the Saw Palmetto, once again, earned its name. He had managed to cut a slice into his right forearm. Blood was gushing from the wound, but it was not spurting. He'd be all right for now. From the palmettos he could see Pete was still approaching. At his feet he saw a small log. While Pete was looking down to watch his step, he heaved the log over his head. It landed with a crash into the palmettos about twenty or thirty feet farther in.

At the sound, Pete looked up. He went for it. Believing that Mark was trying to make it through the palmettos, Pete began circling to meet him on the other side. As soon as Pete had advanced to the point that he did not have a good view of where Mark actually was, Mark emerged from the patch of painful plants and ran. He found a clear row of pines and ran as fast as he possibly could between them, not even hesitating to look over his shoulder. He had no idea if his distraction was continuing to work.

A few minutes later, reaching the limit of his ability to run at that fast pace, Mark had to slow down. He stopped, leaned against a tree, facing the direction from which he'd just run. Listening, he could hear someone approaching, but still could not see him. He had to keep moving, but first he pulled his GPS out of his cache bag. A plan was taking form. He entered a "go to" for the tree he had marked earlier. He was close. Only two tenths of a mile. About 2000 feet, he thought. Sometimes looking at it that way made it seem closer.

Mark began moving again, but at more of a trot than a run this time. He hoped Maddy had the good sense to stay put. The terrain and flora made it slow going, but his pursuer faced the same problem, so he was managing to stay ahead for now. He was getting close to his destination. While continuing to move, he opened his cache bag and fumbled through it for a book of matches. He always kept a book in his bag. They were light, didn't take much space, and one never knew when he would need fire. After all, the ability to make fire was what really separated man from beast. The rest was just incidental.

With one hundred feet to go he had the matches in hand. He wasn't sure how long he had so he would have to be quick. There was the tree in front of him. He stepped up to it, lifted up his foot, and gave it a push with his leg. It creaked and swayed a little, but didn't fall over. He leaned a shoulder into it and pushed. More creaking and swaying. He rocked it back and forth. This brought a crack from the base of the tall stump. One more push and it tumbled to the ground and broke into a number of pieces.

Now Mark could hear his pursuer approaching. There wasn't much time. He lit a match and laid it on the closest piece of the broken log, then lit another and laid it on the next and so on. The pieces were going up according to plan and producing copious amounts of smoke. After he had half a dozen lit, he looked to the horizon. The sun was now up, it's orange disk visible through the thin stand of trees to the east. It was a beautiful sight. Mark hoped this was not his last sunrise.

"Where is she?" Mark heard behind him. He turned to see Pete, gun drawn and pointed at his chest.

"Where is she?" Pete repeated.

"They'll be coming. We sent someone for help. They'll be on their way now," Mark warned.

"You mean with these?" Pete reached into his pocket, pulled out two cell phones and threw them at Mark's feet.

Mark recognized his own phone and had no doubt the other was Joe's. Help was not coming.

"Nice touch with the smoke signal, but it's not exactly a 911 call," Pete chuckled. "You'll both be dead and I'll be long gone before anyone gets out here to check on this smoke." In an instant, his face drew serious again and he repeated, "Where is she?"

"Who?" Mark returned.

Pete pulled the hammer back on the pistol for effect.

"I told her to hide," Mark offered.

Pete lowered the pistol a little and said, "You're about to loose a knee cap."

The wind shifted a little and smoke began to encircle the men. It was becoming thicker by the moment. Out of the smoke, in a blur, came Maddy. She was flying toward Pete, holding the knife over her head. When she reached Pete, she brought the knife down into the arm that was holding the gun. He didn't even see her until her hands crossed in front of his eyes and the knife was only inches from his arm.

He screamed in pain as the gun flew from his hand. The knife had found good purchase. Unlike Mark's palmetto cut, this wound wasn't just gushing blood, it was spurting. It would need to be tended immediately or Pete would bleed to death. Pete had fallen to his knees and was holding the wound with his other hand, trying to stop the spurting blood. He looked up at Maddy with searing hatred. Maddy stood over him still holding the knife, streaks of blood spatter on her shirt.

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Byrd and Littlepage, along with their driver and the rest of the group, had arrived at the cache. After an inspection of the cache and the surrounding area, they were ready to move on. The sun was now above the horizon and it was time for the search to begin. As the men were preparing to get back into the vehicles, someone shouted, "Smoke!"

In the distance, there was smoke floating above the trees. Byrd turned to Harwood and asked, "Any reason there should be smoke there?"

"None I can think of," Harwood answered, "and that's right about the area we're heading."

"Let's call that chopper in," Byrd said.

One of the Troopers said, "I'm on it. Should I tell him to head for that smoke?"

"Exactly," said Byrd, "and we need to get there ourselves. Right now."

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All three of them cocked their heads as they heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter approaching. Pete turned his head back and forth to assess his situation. He decided that discretion is the better part of valor and ran into the smoke. It was so thick by now that he disappeared.

Maddy looked at Mark and saw his bloodied arm. "Are you okay?", she asked.

"Just a scratch," Mark said, "Well, really more of a gash, but it'll be okay. I've had worse caching injuries."

"You think he's gone? You think that's the cops?"

"I'm hoping."

"This smoke is getting thick. We should get out of here," Maddy urged.

Mark bent and picked up the cell phones and said, "Did you see where the gun went?"

"It flew but I didn't see where it came down." Maddy looked at the cell phones and asked, puzzled, "Are those yours and Joe's Cell Phones?"

"Yes, they are."

"What happened to him?"

"I have no idea," Mark said, shaking his head, "but I hope he's okay."

The two walked back to the compound, taking care to look over their shoulders. As they emerged from the smoky woods, they saw the law enforcement and Fish and Wildlife vehicles pulling up. They ran toward them, waving. Several of the men drew their weapons. One man stepped to the front and said, "Miss, please step away. Sir, place your hands on your head."

Maddy pleaded, "Wait; wait; it's not him."

"Let us sort that out. I'm Detective Byrd; what is your name, miss?"

Maddy watched as they placed Mark in handcuffs and led him away. She answered, "Maddy. Maddy Wade."

"We've been looking for you, Miss Wade, and we are so glad to find you in one piece. Is this your blood or his? Are you okay?"

"It's the killer's blood. You've got the wrong guy. He saved me. Him and another guy name Joe Merchant. Where is Joe Merchant?"

"If there's anyone else out here, we'll find him."

Another man approached. Byrd introduced him; "This is Deputy Littlepage, Miss Wade."

The two nodded at each other and Littlepage reported, "The chopper found a vehicle about a quarter mile away. We sent a car over and they found someone inside. He appears to be drugged or something."

"That's gotta be Joe," Maddy said.

"We better get an EMS unit out here," Byrd said.

"On their way. I don't know if they'll be able to make it in though, so we're sending a Cherokee to meet them."

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Mark and Maddy sat in the chairs next to Joe Merchant’s hospital bed. Mark said, "This guy is turning out to be one of the most prolific serial killers in history. Every one of those waypoints had at least one body at it. Many of them had several. That one in the WMA apparently had a bunch. That was where he actually killed them."

"And they haven't found him?" Joe asked.

"Not yet, but they've got everyone looking. They found a kayak in the marsh a few miles away. They think he might have had it stashed out there just for an escape."

"Who is he?

"Turns out his ID was faked. They think he did the same thing somewhere else and came here because he was about to get caught. Now they're afraid he'll set up shop somewhere else if they don't track him down."

"I can't believe I've been out a week," Joe said, laying his head back on his pillow.

"I guess they're not sure if he meant to kill you with that shot of drugs and just came up short, or if he just OD'd you by accident," Mark said.

Maddy added, "From what he did to me, they think he drugs people to torture and kill them later. He used that shed for that."

"But they know we didn't have anything to do with it?" Joe asked. "They're still coming here and asking me weird questions."

"I don't think they've made up their minds for sure yet. But I think it's over for us."

"After all this, you must be about ready to give up Geocaching and move on to something else," Joe said.

Mark thought for a moment, shook his head and said, "No way man. It's ALL part of the adventure."

Wed, Aug 6, 2008

"We've gotta get out of here," Mark said.

"Where? What are you talking about?" Maddy asked.

"This is a set up. We've been trapped here. I don't know what this guy has in mind, but I don't think we should just sit here and wait for him."

Maddy looked down at her wrists, rubbed them, and said, "I know what he has in mind for me."

"Exactly," Mark said as he began to remove his shoes and socks. When his socks were off, he held them out to Maddy and said, "Put these on. They should at least help a little. We'll try to avoid any terrain that's too rough."

Maddy pulled the socks on over her feet while Mark put his shoes back on. Maddy asked, "What about when the police come? It won't be too much longer until your friend gets to a cell signal or reaches the road."

"I hope that's true," Mark said, "but we're not going far. Just far enough to hide out."

As they began walking Maddy shined the flashlight to the ground to watch her step. Mark reached over and gently took it from her. "Someone may be watching," he said.

"Right."

"Your eyes will adjust in a few minutes. Stay close."

Mark led her to the rear of the compound in silence and then headed back to where he and Joe had found the grave. They reached the creek, he showed her the log crossing and they both made their way over to the other side. As they passed within sight of the grave, Maddy's eyes widened. She was about to say something but Mark held a finger up to his lips, signaling silence. Maddy held her tongue.

Once they were beyond the grave, the brush began to get thicker. They continued on through. After a few hundred feet, Mark stopped at a dead pine. It was a little odd looking. He ran his hands up and down the trunk and then put his face close to it sniffed. After inspecting the tree he held up his GPS and marked the spot.

Maddy was looking at him quizzically. Once again, He held his finger to his lips. He then pointed to her feet. She help up her right hand with the thumb extended upward. He nodded and waved forward. They came upon a patch of palmettos and carefully made their way around it. On the other side was a small stand of thick brush. Mark led them into the heart of it and stopped. He motioned to the ground and sat. Maddy joined him on the ground.

Mark whispered, "If we weren't followed, we'll be safe here for a while."

"What if we WERE followed?" Maddy asked.

Reaching into his bag he pulled out a small knife. He opened the blade and handed it to her. She grasped it. After a few minutes of silence she asked in a whisper, "What was that dead tree about?"

"It was a Longleaf Pine, they get turpentine from them. That one was killed by a lightning strike. It does something to the sap. Kind of like it boils it right in the tree and changes it. It makes it like a log soaked in lighter fluid. It creates tons of smoke when you light it. Might come in handy."

"Was that one of the graves back there?"

"I think so."

"Mine?"

He looked at her but didn't answer. That was all the answer she needed.

"What if the police come?"

"Cops usually have a pretty big footprint. I think we'll know. We'll just need to get their attention."

Maddy pulled her knees to her chest, and rested her chin on them. Mark stretched out his legs and leaned back against a small tree. They sat in silence and waited.

-------------------------------------------------

He watched as darkness fell. They were sitting in the Jeep exactly according to plan. A little bit darker and he would sweep in and have his fun. Screams were always louder in the dark. He would enjoy it.

Then the unexpected happened. After fiddling with the tires, they walked off into the woods. He watched them through the binoculars as far as the remaining light would allow, but then he had to follow on foot. He was wary of getting too close because he didn't want to spook them. It was still two to one. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle on his own terms, but if they were frightened AND saw him coming...

He had managed to stay with them past the creek, but then they disappeared into the brush. The good news was there was nowhere to go. They'd have to come back eventually and he would be waiting. He knew they were waiting for the Calvary to arrive, but he also knew it wasn't coming. Feeling the two cell phones in his pocket he chuckled.

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Littlepage was tapping at the keyboard on his laptop. It was easier to manually enter the coordinates into the laptop than the GPS. Besides, he had the mapping software in the laptop so they could more easily see the locations. Also, once they were entered he could quickly upload them into the GPS. "That's eighteen," he said, "two to go."

"Hurry up," said Byrd as he drove.

A few moments later Littlepage said, "Done!" He turned the laptop so Byrd could see the screen from the driver’s side. "Take a look." He worked the map with the mouse pad until all 20 waypoints were visible. They were spread throughout the Jacksonville area. He zoomed in on two of them and taped the screen; "These are the two in Jennings. This is the first one, and this is the one at Serial Finders cache -- the Krist girl."

"What about the rest?" Byrd asked.

"Gimme a minute," Littlepage responded as he began to work the map. He zoomed out and then back in. This time on a different waypoint. "This is the one behind the Gate," he said, and then repeated the process, "This is the one on Hecksher. And this is that Russian girl we found at Pumpkin Hill."

"They're all bodies."

"Looks that way."

"What do we have in Nassau County."

"There's just one. Right here," he tapped the screen again, "Right in the middle of Nassau Wildlife Management Area."

"That's where we're heading."

"In the morning?"

"We both need some sleep, and we're gonna need help getting there."

"You don't think the General Lee can make it?"

"I don't think I want to try it alone in the dark anyway. Let's go put this list in evidence and then we'll sack out for a few hours. We'll be there with bells on first thing in the morning."

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Mark looked upward through the brush. They were far enough from the city that there was no light pollution. The stars were out in infinite numbers. As his eyes adjusted, a wispy cloud materialized above. It wasn't really a cloud though; it was the Milky Way. The stars of our galaxy were scattered across the heavens forming the milky cloud for which it was named. This was a rare sight in these modern "enlightened" times. Out here in the middle of nowhere, without any lights to interfere, you could still see it on a clear night. It was beautiful. Even with all the danger they were in, he was thankful to have an opportunity to see such beauty in the sky above.

Mark pressed a button on his GPS to turn on the backlight and checked the time. It was now well after midnight. He was thankful for the warm and dry night. If it were cold and/or raining, they would be in even more trouble. Joe should have either reached cell reception or the highway an hour or two ago. Once at the highway he could have flagged down help even if he never got a good cell connection. Where was Joe Merchant? Where were the cops?

Wed, Aug 6, 2008

Detective Byrd had called Captain Wilde to get things moving in Nassau County. They would need assistance from the Nassau County Sheriff’s office, since the Wildlife Management Area was their turf. It was in a remote area of the county at the heart of a stand of planted pine that went on for miles. Though not always apparent from the highway, much of Northeast Florida was just a big tree farm. They would probably need some help from the Florida Highway Patrol as well.

"When are we heading up to Nassau County?" Littlepage asked.

"It's almost dark now. Doesn't look like we'll be able to start much of a search until morning," Byrd answered.

"You think they'll still be there in the morning?"

"Whether they are or not, we'll need to search the area. Who knows what they were doing there."

"We know they were caching," Littlepage pointed out.

"That bloody shoe says that isn't all they were doing. The DNA came back positive for the Wade girl. Juries LOVE blood evidence."

"So Serial Finder's our guy."

"Seems so, but we don't know squat about this Joe Merchant guy. Is he part of it, or just along for the ride?"

"Well," began Littlepage, "you're right there. We're not even sure we know his name. We had a couple of uniforms working the area where we found the Tracker and they found the house where Serial Finder apparently hooked up with him."

"Joe Merchant's?"

"Not exactly. The Property Appraiser has it as owned by 'JM Advisors, Inc.,' but according to some Geocachers they interviewed, it's Joe Merchant’s house. The coordinates are apparently part of a puzzle cache. According to the DMV, there are two vehicles titled the same way at that address. A minivan that's in the driveway and a Jeep Grand Cherokee that's not."

"We get a bulletin out on that?"

"Absolutely. The Fish & Wildlife Service has been alerted, too."

"The neighbors know this guy's real name?" Byrd asked.

"Nope. Just called him Joe. And we can't find any Drivers license listed at that address under that or any other name. And nothing on JM Advisors so far."

"Wonderful. Is he hiding from something? Do we have a team of killers here, like in the Night Stalker case out in LA?"

"We've got nothing to connect him, other than the fact that Serial Finder hooked up with him."

"And he's a Geocacher."

"Technically, so are we, so that doesn't say much," said Littlepage.

"Let's get that lawyer, Gina Broudy, on the phone. She's gotta have an idea where her client is."

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"Wildlife Management Area?" Maddy asked, "Is that a State Forest or something?"

"Not really," Mark explained, "It's actually just a tree farm owned by a big lumber company. They allow hunting on it, so it's a Wildlife Management area. Probably some kind of tax break thing. I don't know. I don't think we're even still in it, though. I think this is private land."

"But we're in Nassau County?"

"Yes," Joe answered, "way out in the boonies of Nassau County. Are you that girl from the truck stop? Maggie or something?"

"Maddy actually, Maddy Wade. Truck stop?" she nodded, "That's the last thing I remember. Someone attacked me there."

"It's all over the news that you're missing," Mark explained.

"Thank you Amy!" she shouted and explained, "That's my sister. She must've reported me missing. How did you guys find me?"

"We were walking by and we're pretty sure we heard a toilet flush," Said Joe.

"We put two and two together and thought it might be you," Mark added.

"Why would you have thought that it was me? And what were you doing out here?"

"That's a long story," Mark said, "Have you ever heard of Geocaching?"

"You're cachers? So am I. Who are you?"

"I'm Serial Finder," Mark said and then pointed to Joe, "and he's JoeMerchant."

"Oh my god! I've done some of your caches. I feel like I know you guys."

"What's your Nome de geo?" Joe asked.

"OsceolaHiker. Osceola's about the only place I've cached so far. I guess I'm a newbee."

"I think I've seen a few of your logs," Joe said.

"So why were you guys thinking I'd be around here?"

"Look, before we go into that," Joe said, "it's getting pretty dang close to Dark-Thirty. We need to figure out how we're getting out of here."

"What about the Jeep?" Maddy asked.

"Two flat tires," Mark explained.

She shook her head and said, "What about just hiking out?"

Joe shook his head and pointed downward, "You're barefoot."

"Oh crap," she said, "you're right. How far is it to the road?"

"Four miles straight. A longer hike though," said Joe.