Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Geocaching Woodville, Part II

A continuation of the earlier post.  Yet one more location where I didn't realize I was looking for a mystery cache.  I ended up crawling around in a drain under a highway and wondering how it would be accessible if water was running under the road.

Who is the inspector dude?  I recognize him from cartoons, but they weren't cartoons I watched.

It's Alice!!! Run for the bridge across the chasm!  Fusaki! Fusaki!!! It's ironic that I managed to get past a raptor and score the cache it was guarding, only to be chewed on later by a bloodhound.  Luck was with me, it wasn't a pack like in Jurassic Park.  Individual raptors are stupid.  Stooopid.  Play some tap music, and they start tapping their hallux and can't stop.

This took me back to the days when I had hemorrhoids and Eryn and I were doing the Halloween series here in the southern metro that Bart had placed.  That was a watershed.  Pizza challenge, Halloween caches, hemorrhoid surgery.  Put enough big events in a two day period and you never forget it.

Somewhere, nearby, natives are guarding giant gates holding back an even gianter great ape.  Or perhaps Marie Laveau was caching before me, despite the lack of a signature attesting to her presence.  More importantly, don't put a finger in your mouth after touching a rusty, corroded, moldy, cache necklace.  That's the real lesson you should come away with.

A sneaky cache hidden in some rusted out old farm machinery.

Let the photoshopping begin.  What can you put on the missing half of my head that would be most amusing?  Some caching bling.

The raptor trespassed.  Stooopid raptor.  Now he's married to some farmer's daughter.  So...a raptor went to a farm house and asked the farmer, "Can we spend the night at your farm?"  The farmer said, "Sure you can.  Just make sure you stay away from my three beautiful daughters."  The raptor assured him he could.  But in the middle of the night, the first daughter came to visit him where he was staying in the barn and the raptor found he was no match for her curvaceous charms.  Wild trans-human sex ensued and the raptor fell back to sleep.  A few hours later, the second daughter showed up and although the raptor thought there was no way he could get aroused so soon, she was even more persuasive than the first daughter and they did it dino style.  He went back to sleep.  But a few hours later the third daughter showed up and she was a vision.  The raptor perked up and showed her the meaning of terrible lizard.  Hours later he was awoken by the farmer who was pointing a shotgun at him.  "You defiled my daughters, and now you have to pay.  You'll be marryin' one of them."  The raptor, a comittaphobe, was initially concerned, but after a moment to think it through, decided marrying the youngest daughter was preferable to a hide full of buckshot.  A wonderful ceremony ensued, and the minister asked, "Do you take this raptor to be your lawfully wedded dinosaur?"  And the farmer's daughter assured everyone she did.  The minister stated, "And do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded human?"  The raptor assured everyone he did.  The minister stated, "I now pronounce you dinosaur and wife."  After that they lived happily ever after, raising a brood of Sleestak and creating one of the most profitable farming combines in history, eventually selling out to Monsanto and creating a habitat where all human/dino halfbreeds could live in peace.  Damn it...I was going to use the punchline "I don't know about his ability as a farmer, but when we were doing it, I was in raptor."  That probably would have been better.

The cache description implied these were lunch pails.  They looked more like a good place to take a leak.  Not that I did!  They just looked appropriate.

SIR! We have secured Gearburger Hill, Sir! We now have a commanding view of the entire bike.  You may rest assured that no [insert culturally inappropriate word for enemies here] will ever be able to rest this bike from our control.  I have deployed snipers to the pedals and we have flamethrowers cleaning up the headtubes where the enemy has gone to ground.  Disregard any rumors you may have heard about soldiers setting fire to innocents in the spokes.

I stood in front of this cache for a while wondering whether it was a trap.  I followed the rope up to the end of the line just to be sure I wasn't going to pull a pot full of pig's blood down on my head.

End of the line! I talked about the hill leading up to this stop sign in the last post.  When the county cop was talking to me I was wondering whether he'd be concerned that I'd reached the county line and think my dog bite belonged to the next county over.  But it all worked out.  Except for this tetanus shot.  That thing blows.  Feels like I've got the flu and my arm is a mess.  I just tried to haul a dozen bags of sticks and grass and leaves to the corner, and I have to load the dog cage in the car tomorrow and I'm not looking forward to it.  I once had a nurse who told me tetanus shots don't make your arm hurt.  To which I say, "Bull*LKDJFL!@$^#$%^."  But, it was a good day except for the bite.  Good caching.  Good bicycling.


CookieQueen said...

Inspector Clouseau - you didn't watch the Pink Panther?

lissyjo said...

Really? it's not da-da-da-da-da inspector gadget, da-da-da-da-da-da-daaa-daaaaa