How come routine maintenance is never routine?

Why do we procrastinate until things are just so bad that major intervention is in order?

Is that just the way it is?

Why question it?

Does it make for more interesting stories?

My frustration is my reader's gain?

Will you get on with the story?

Hey! Who snuck a real question in there? Well, I suppose they have a point.

It was a dark and gloomy night, moonless and silent, that just felt wrong, so very wrong, when even the things that go bump were too fearful to… OOPS! That's the wrong story! Sorry.

It was a bright, cheery afternoon with a cool breeze that practically commanded cachers to go forth and find. And they did, and we did. And all was well with the satellites and cachers prospered in smilies. The logs were poetic (are there rhymes for TFTC and TNLNSL?) and extolled the virtues of the both the hider and the chosen locations.

Gas prices were down and the blinkies were blinking, drawing our eyes to them like a magnet. Nano logs were self-extracting and rolled themselves back up slick as a whistle. No skeeters or ticks or nettles that bite. No ivy was poison and trash out of sight. The numbers people got their numbers, the hikers got their long walks in natural settings and the traders swapped their swag. And we all smiled on this perfect caching day.

Evening falls and happy cachers begin to log their finds,

"TFTC",

"clever container!"

"This one made me laugh"

Aaaah, the reason we place caches, so we can read the comments! They roll in as I read them off to Vic and make little remarks.

"Wow, they found a bunch of our caches today!"

"Hmm haven't seen that name in awhile."

"This one is in town from Denver."

"I told you that was a cacher when we drove past".

There was an occasional, "DNF! Searched everywhere!" Oh well, into each life some rain must fall.

"Wet log!" It will dry out. "No joy today"

"Log is very wet!" "Your ammo can has been tagged" "couldn't find the cache, but there is a bunch of little pieces of plastic near ground zero." "Log is wet"

Suddenly white crosses in red boxes were flashing at me.

"Needs Maintenance" "Needs Maintenance" "Needs Maintenance" AAAAAGH!

The stress was building, and in my mind a klaxon horn began a thrumming screech and massive doors were sliding apart to reveal a large missile with clouds of vapor escaping from disconnecting hoses.

There was a low rumble, vibrations, a slow rise and then a brilliant flash as the missile roared out of the silo to intercept this threat to our well being.

Is this the beginning of the end?

 

 

"We'll go check on those tomorrow, Dear"

The promise of a long awaited riposte snaps me back to reality. "Did you forget…?"

"What? We don't have plans for tomorrow."

"My name! You called me Dear, I'm Joe" HA!! I had finally been able to turn the table on that corny line I had fallen for so many times in the past.

After a victory like that you feel you can deal with anything! So I took inventory of which caches needed maintenance. One graffiti stricken ammo can, a nano in need of a fresh log, another that lost it's magnet, wet logs in 2 experimental containers, a missing lock-and-lock and… Horrors! A missing Guardian! And another Guardian with an embarrassing moisture problem. We had our work cut out for us. As I start to gather logs and swag, Vic says "Don't forget you promised to check on that multi for -----." Oh yeah, I had offered to check on that one because it is close to our incontinent Guardian.

We had found their multi-cache last spring so I was familiar with it. Deciding I should check that right away, I load the coordinates and head out. After a short search I find the leg with the northings but couldn't find the westings. Ok, we can get the coordinates by email and replace the container. Further down the trail, I retrieve the leaking Guardian and take him back home.

I suppose I should explain what a Guardian is. We have placed a series of caches that were inspired by the time Vic reached for a cache and felt fur instead, and shrieked. I came running to her aid, but couldn't immediately determine what the threat was. Climbing a nearby fallen tree trunk I was able to take a pic of the cache "guardian". Shortly after that we started our series using unique containers featuring creatures that could potentially get between a cacher and the cache.

This wet one was the first Guardian we had placed. Since that time we have learned that whenever we spot a container with Guardian potential while shopping we purchase two, in case we ever need to replace it. We have a big file drawer at home that is called Noah's Ark and keep our as-yet-unplaced Guardians there. If any of them goes missing twice, we'll fire (archive) it, since it obviously has abandoned its post. Knock on wood, we haven't had any other disappearances.

Getting the coordinates for the missing leg on the multi by email, I look for a matching replacement pill container. I know it's here, somewhere. After checking all possible places with no luck. (translation: I ransacked the house before admitting to a frustrating DNF) I head for the store hoping I wouldn't have to drive all over town to find both the pill container and a replacement for the other Guardian that went missing. Yup, had to be one we had hidden before learning our lesson about buying replacements. I hit the first nearby store with no luck and go on to search the other grocery store down the block. Success! I find both the pill container and my Guardian. I was expecting a long fruitless journey all over town, and got lucky and found both within a half mile of home.

That luck wouldn't hold out.

When I got back the container that had eluded my meticulous ransacking was sitting in front of the computer. Vic had claimed the smiley on it. I looked at it, looked at her, she glanced towards a pile of various articles I had made during my earlier ransack and the corner of my mouth curled up in a snarl. Vic snapped her fingers and pointed to the floor. The snarl was replaced by a small whimper. Does she have me trained or what? That's ok, wait till she sees the hole I dug in her flowerbed. I handed over the sack with four pill containers and two guardians to her, she gave me a cookie and began applying the camo to the various replacement containers while I started loading coordinates into the GPS'.

My first stop in the morning (Vic sent me out solo) is the multi. Putting the new container in the spot I remember from earlier in the spring I look for the other leg so I can put the coords together and check on the final. Ok, it was here yesterday. I must have looked for twenty minutes before I found it…exactly where it was yesterday. I'm blaming the dense undergrowth for that, but I'm sure we all know what was really being dense this morning.

Off through the undergrowth towards the final, I'm hunched over, ducking under branches that weren't this low in the spring and head for a familiar looking tree, nope not it. Heading towards another familiar tree, it dawns on me that I don't remember this one very well. What was the container, how was it hid? Looks like I have to find this one all over again. So using my superior caching skills (that had just allowed me to look twenty minutes for something I had found only 12 hours ago) I actually use the GPS to guide myself (what a concept!) and find the cache near another different, yet familiar tree. It's in great shape, dry as a bone and secure in its location.

Our Guardian still needs work so he's not going to be returned to the wild today. Managing to find the (unwaypointed) car, I head back home to pick up Vic.

Next stop is almost a drive by, replacing the whole nano instead of just the log. A stop, pluck and plop. In fact Vic stopped just long enough for me to get out and picked me up after two round trips in the roundabout (there was a car behind her and she couldn't stop on the first round.)

Now for the pair of experimental containers. These have been archived so I'll explain them; one was a mechanical pencil lead container, camouflaged and hanging from a paper clip. This was "Get the Lead Out" and was in a pine tree. The other, "Get the Meds Out" was a container made from 2 different plastic vials that once held nebulizer medication. They were fitted together and painted camo and placed in a pine tree in another area of the same park. Essentially these were the same. This would end up being our last maintenance on these two. Making entirely new containers, we use some recently acquired Rite In The Rain paper for the logs. Vic does a real good job of camo so we have to spend a few minutes looking for each of these before replacing them. Meds had been chewed on by a squirrel and had a wet log also. Lead was ok this time, since a dry log was put in last week; we were just swapping it out for one with a waterproof log today. It went missing shortly after that and we decided to archive them both. We have had to do way too much maintenance on this pair, they were truly a PITA.

We also archived our next stop as it appeared that the container was indeed in little pieces. We figured it was a squirrel or two just chewing because they could. If I wanted to feed the little guys, I'd put out corn on those little benches or the corn carousels, ones that a squirrel jumps on and it rolls, making the squirrel fall off, or even bungee corn. Much more entertaining than picking up nibbled pieces of geotrash.

On the backside of our big looping maintenance run around town we replaced the missing Guardian. Following the GPS to the mark we verify that it is indeed gone. To tell the truth, I was amazed it had lasted as long as it did. Almost a neon sign stating "Muggle Me!" in its original spot, we decided to move it about 35 feet to a much more secure location.

While getting the new coords we see an area which runoff has washed trash into. I spied a ball, went to retrieve it for Wedge (all the balls we find while out caching become dog swag) and saw more, lots more. I found 3 soft baseballs, 7 tennis balls, 1 hard baseball, a softball and a whiffle ball. There were more but we figured the Nerf-type foam balls and golf balls wouldn't be healthy for Wedge. Besides, my arms were already full of muddy spheres. I wish I had brought a couple of CITO bags, one for trash and one for the balls.

Our last duty for this day was to replace an ammo can that had been tagged with graffiti.

We were actually quite grateful the cache wasn't stolen or destroyed and considered leaving it as is. We did decide to replace it however and transferred the contents to a new can. Redistributing the pile of parallel sticks for optimum cover, I toss a few leaves on top, making it as invisible as, well, an ammo can in the woods.

2 more left…. But, one was 130 miles away and the other we had neglected to prepare a container for.

Those would have to await another day.

We took mohjoe and the puppies up north the next weekend, allowing mohjoe to log another of our EarthCaches, and had a nice lunch in the state park before driving towards the nano that was missing its magnet. A stop, pluck and plop, (no roundabout this time) we had traveled all those miles to do our maintenance duty. Back home, I rehid a new lock-and-lock and took a fair amount of time to arrange the available cover, since the last one was muggled. That paid off well, as the next finder stated in their log that they looked quite awhile before claiming the smiley. A week later our Guardian was fitted for a skirt to deflect water (Shhh! We told him it was a flange) and was once again released into the wilds.

We should be all set…. until the next maintenance crisis!

 

By catsnfish

A couple of empty-nesters who caught the caching bug not realizing it was incurable. So if we’re found in the woods waltzing with Garmins, lifting lampskirts while tying our shoe or looking for “gum” underneath benches, be sure to stay away... it’s contagious and the only temporary relief can be found in finding bison’s, ammo’s, nano’s, or passing coins and spreading travel bugs!

Publisher's Note: Catsnfish write the periodic column The Adventures of Catsnfish. Subscribe (free) to The Online Geocacher to get an email alert when a new article is published.

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