Stephen Mark Rainey's Blog, page 46

Dirty Myrtle Madness

Actually, "Dirty Myrtle" is the name of an IPA I tried while at the beach, and I quite liked it. But it kind of fits the motif of this most recent visit, which was both intensely fun and something between unsettling and infuriating.
Three years ago, Ms. B. and I had spent our New Year's holiday with friends and frequent traveling companions, Terry & Beth, at Myrtle Beach, SC, and have been hoping to do it again. This year, since we've all had our three COVID-19 shots, we figured we'd give it another go. We traveled halfway around the world together without issue, and domestically, almost everywhere we've been in recent days, the populace has been pretty good about taking the proper precautions. So, even with Omicron variant rearing its ugly head, we decided to go forward with our plan.
After work on Thursday, 12/30, Brugger and I hit the road for the beach, roughly a four-hour drive. Severe rainstorms along the way slowed us down a bit, but we still arrived at our lodgings — the Carolinian Beach Resort — by mid-evening. We spent a few pleasant hours in our suite with wine and good company until quite late, when Brugger and I went walking on the beach. A beautiful evening it was, and I procured information to complete an EarthCache ("Shark!" GC5ADB4). The old dude about to wail on
a hapless golf ball
Friday morning, I got up fairly early and hoofed it after a nearby geocache (one of the few in the area I hadn't claimed on previous trips). Then Terry & I girded our loins and headed over to Whispering Pines Golf Course to indulge in some masochistic fun on the links. It was here that we really began to get the feel for how little heed anyone — anyone — in Myrtle Beach is paying to the realities of the pandemic. While our group, without exception, religiously wore KN-95 masks anywhere and everywhere we went in public, all too rarely did we see another mask or even any attempt at social distancing. Now, on the golf course, we had plenty of open space to work with, so it was literally a breath of fresh air. We ended up playing with a couple of nice gentlemen — brothers — from Kentucky, both of whom were vaccinated and respected social distancing. And to be sure, the round was fun, if a bit frustrating, since it was only the third time in the last decade that I've picked up a golf club (the other two being with Terry in the past year). To say one of the foursome was still way out of practice is one hell of an understatement (though I did manage to make a few marginally spectacular golf shots). Fortunately, our companions, while competent players, at least did not completely and utterly put me to shame. Terry played a generally consistent round, with a respectable score (the kind I used to have when I played on a far more regular basis, and that I almost hope to achieve again).
Being New Year's Eve, we knew that, without having made prior reservations, finding a decent restaurant for dinner might be problematic. It kind of was. Eventually, we ended up at an okay Italian restaurant ( Toscana Italian Kitchen ), which had a limited (and very expensive) menu for the evening, but I'd say we made the best of it. The dishes were all way heavy on the cheese, even on such selections such as Veal Saltimbocca, which in my experience generally are not nearly so dairy-laden. The available wines were nothing to brag on, so while I will credit the servers for their very cordial and professional performance under very busy conditions, I can't say I was all that enthused with the dinner fare, especially not at the price. Again, not a mask in the restaurant. With the coming of darkness — as on our previous New Year's sojourn at Myrtle Beach — the fog began to roll in (see "Waylaid, Shanghaied, and Hauled Away," January 1, 2019 ). No patchy mist, this, but an incredibly dense cloud that settled over the beach for the entire night. If anything, this was even thicker and more opaque than last time — and we loved it. From our 19th floor balcony, we could scarcely see the well-lit pool deck below us, nor even the barrage of fireworks that began going up a couple of hundred feet away on the beach. Happily, some far more potent blasts went off just beyond our balcony, so, also as before, we had the perfect view for the brilliant if all-too-brief display.
We did a bit of hollering at midnight as the rockets burst around us, but it wasn't long before all went quiet and dark. So Brugger and I took the opportunity to take another walk on the fog-shrouded beach. If you'll take a gander at the photo up top, you'll see my flashlight beam focused on our balcony, which was the only one brightly lit at 12:30 a.m. on January 1, 2022. I quite enjoyed the effect. "The fog is getting thicker!" On New Year's morning, once I dragged my weary self out of the sack, I headed out after some geocaches. Had to be done, don't you know. First destination was Warbird Park , at the south end of Myrtle Beach, where you'll find a trio of US Air Force warplanes on display (an F-100 Super Sabre, an A-7 Corsair II, and an A-10 Thunderbolt II [a.k.a. Warthog]), along with a trail of plaques that chronicle the history of the 354th Fighter Wing and the Myrtle Beach Air Force Base, which closed in 1993. Back in the days when my family vacationed in Myrtle Beach every summer, our timeshare was just across the main highway from the air base, and I took great pleasure in watching the military jets come and go at very close range. Now there is an Adventure Lab cache at the site, and I enjoyed the hell out of visiting the location. F-100 Super Sabre A-7 Corsair II A-10 Thunderbolt II (a.k.a. Warthog) After Warbirds Park, I headed over to a nearby trail for a couple more caches, and then to Myrtle Beach State Park , just across Highway 17, to see if I could avenge a prior DNF (did not find) from a couple of years ago. At that time, the cache was missing but has since been replaced. I found it indeed, and so turned a little blue frowny face on the geocaching map to a big happy smiley.
That was it for the morning's caching, so I rejoined our intrepid group. And then...lunch! We opted for  Abuelo's Mexican Restaurant , which the ladies had visited the day before and enjoyed enough to go back. I had eaten there on a previous beach trip and liked it well enough, so I was pleased to return. In general, it was all right, but much like at Toscana, the cheese brigade had gone on a rampage. Now, make no mistake, I love me some cheese, but I'm not really looking to croak of a coronary because I had the audacity to eat lunch. Truly, I've never seen so much smothering of foodstuffs with dairy stuffs, and while the food tasted all right, I then and there slammed headfirst into the cheese wall. I'm sure the hankering will again knock on my door (and probably too soon), but for at least some while, cheese and I are going to keep a respectable distance.
After the cheese extravaganza, we headed to a few shops to pick up wine, other assorted provisions, and new shoes. Creeple People at Abuelo's Mexican Restaurant, about to be cheesed off After shopping, we rested and recuperated for a while at the suite, and eventually set out to dine again, this time at RipTydz Oceanfront Grille and Rooftop Bar , a relatively short distance down Ocean Boulevard. Again, the usual lack of masks. But in general, the place turned out to be most agreeable, with excellent service and delicious seafood (I had snow crab legs and steamed oysters on the half shell). It was here I tried the Dirty Myrtle IPA. I actually do really like a good IPA, so on those rare occasions I actually drink beer, it tends to be my brew of choice. The Dirty Myrtle rates as highly respectable. Definitely the best dinner experience of the trip, RipTydz.
We finished off the night back at the suite with a smidgen of dessert and a tad more wine (and very fine wine at that).
This morning, we got up, packed up, and bid the Carolinian adieu for this time around. We found an excellent breakfast at nearby Donald's Pancake House , which we had visited on some previous trip or another. This was, if I may say, a DAMN good breakfast. Again, the service was top-notch. In fact, at all the places we visited on this trip, service proved superlative. I was impressed by how well we were treated at every establishment, as well as the timeliness and efficiency of their wait staffs. Now, some places clearly were short-handed, such as Toscana, but even then the folks there made every effort to attend to us as best they could. They have my admiration.
But for the love of Yog, there really is a pandemic. While at the beach, I received distressing news about a good family friend who is now in dire shape with COVID-19. During these trying times, Brugger and I have done our very best to do the right, responsible things without sheltering ourselves completely. But this time around, if we don't get infected, we'll have dodged a bullet. I personally know too many people who've lost too much to go waltzing blithely along without taking responsible precautions. I personally know too many healthcare workers who are at the ends of their ropes because some of you are truly too stupid — or chickenshit — to do the right things and are overloading our healthcare facilities. Dress it up any way you want; the intellectual gymnastics required to justify not taking the pandemic seriously are ludicrous, dangerous, asinine, and selfish in the extreme. Those of you doing this ought to be ashamed, but you clearly do not have the self-awareness — or consideration for others — to accept such responsibility. Given the people in my life this disease has affected so profoundly, it's fair to say that I hold in utmost contempt those of you who simply can't be bothered, or have been so indoctrinated into wingnut ideology, to be fucking decent Americans.
If for this you choose not to like me anymore, well, I really don't give a rat's ass.
Happy New Year.

Smith Mountain Lake Madness

Well, it was only madness in that there was a shit ton of geocaching going on. I was up and at 'em fairly early this morning. Gassed up the car, gassed up me with a big honking bucket of coffee, and off I went. I stopped off in Rocky Mount to snag a quick park & grab hide, and then I threaded my way through Franklin County on a spidery network of back roads toward the big lake.

It felt rather like summer out there, with temperatures in the mid 70s. There were a good many people out and about, at least in places, but for the most part, I was able to hunt caches in both woodland and populated settings unimpeded. I did find a few cool hides — from the mooning dwarf shown above to a gaggle of giant beetles and a big honking spider. I came home with 14 finds and one DNF (did not find). I could hardly have asked for a better day to get out on my own, indulge in my outdoor passion, and decompress in beautiful surroundings.
There's a group going after my new night cache tomorrow evening, which makes me happy. I may tag along or something such, if circumstances permit. The Blue Ridge Mountains in the distance, with the Peaks of Otter partly visible on the far right. A lovely day at Smith Mountain Lake Bugs!

One Dark Christmas Night...

I mean, really. It is one dark night out there.

Ms. B. and I enjoyed a lovely Christmas day today. A lovely Christmas week, all things considered. I mean, over the past couple of years, the world has set itself on one hell of a new and different course, at least for me. Mom died in 2020. My brother died earlier this year. Brugger and I got married and moved in together. We have five cats. There's a pandemic. Even since this time last year, the world feels like a wildly different — and oftentimes tougher — place to live.
This was the first Christmas that Brugger and I have spent together as a married couple, and the first I've ever spent in my own home in Greensboro. As a youngster, the family always spent the holidays with my grandparents in Georgia. Even when I moved to Chicago in the 1980s, I always came south for Christmas. After the grandparents all passed away, the family spent Christmases together at the old homestead in Martinsville. And so it has been even up to last year, when Kimberly and I celebrated Christmas at Pleasant Hill, just the two of us. Christmas Eve sunset from The Vino Shoppe in High Point This past week, we had several little celebrations to lead up to the big day. Wednesday, we went to dinner at GIA - Eat. Drink. Listen , which we hadn't visited since before the pandemic set in. Yesterday, for Christmas Eve, we drove over to High Point for an open house hosted by our friend Kelly, who used to work with us at the old office. Then, following longstanding tradition, Ms. B. and I went out for wine. Typically, we've gone to the Grove Winery on Christmas Eve, though this year, the Grove was closed. Since we were in High Point for the open house, we opted for The Vino Shoppe , which we hit on Christmas Eve a couple of years ago. The decent wine and all-around nice atmosphere made us smile real big. As a rule, for Christmas Eve dinner, I make either vegetable beef soup or beef chili. This year, we opted for the soup. I done good; it was much better than being slapped in the belly with a wet trout.
I made several outings to the Greensboro watershed trails this week to set up a new night cache, which I submitted to geocaching.com yesterday. As with many of my caches, this one is inspired by dark literature, in this case The King in Yellow by Robert W. Chambers. A night cache is specifically set up to be hunted after dark, with trails of reflective fire tacks to lead cache hunters to their destination. I put in some serious time and energy setting this one up, so I hope it will work out as well as I believe it will. Ought to be fun for the local geocaching contingent, I do believe. The cache is called "Have You Seen the Yellow Sign?" Sunset from the Laurel Bluff Trail, overlooking the Lake of Hali... er, uh... Lake Townsend For the past few years, our Christmas movie repertoire has steadily grown. For some time, we satisfied ourselves watching Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown! and A Christmas Story . A while back, we added National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. A year or so ago, we added Die Hard. This year, we also watched Die Hard 2 and Die Hard with a Vengeance, not that these were actually Christmas movies; we just kinda felt like watching them. Die Hard with a Vengeance turned out to be particularly fun, thanks mostly to Samuel L. Jackson. We also fit in Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer, which was one of my staples when I was a little kid. I don't know that it's going to become a staple in the adult years.
This morning, I cooked slapjacks for our breakfast. Then we opened presents. There were many good ones, for Ms. B. does tend to spoil me. The highlight for me, perhaps, was an S. H. Monster Arts Godzilla figure (from 1989's Godzilla vs. Biollante). Unfortunately, one of her gifts has not arrived. I just hope there's no problem with it at the source or with shipping. But all in all, we both made out rather splendidly. For our big dinner, I made Chicken Marsala, as I have on at least a previous Christmas or two. Happily, I didn't fuck it up.
After things settled, I set out for the trails again, this time to see if I might recover some very old cache containers from a long-archived cache I had adopted many years ago (see "Darkness Falls Restored," February 24 2014). I found one of the containers; the other, I did not. Then, I set out for Martinsville, figuring I'd put in a little holiday time (and some geocaching) at the old homestead. Just before I left Greensboro, I received notification of a new cache up at Fairy Stone Park , a few miles out of Martinsville. I knew it would be after dark before I could get to it, but the mood was upon me, and I figured I might be able to snag first-to-find if I didn't dilly-dally. Well, I didn't dilly-dally, and I did get first to find. I tell you — as I mentioned way up yonder in this blog — it was one dark night out there. The sun had been down for a little while before I arrived at the trail, so it's a good thing I had a very bright flashlight with me. It wasn't a long hike — maybe a half-mile round trip. But it was dark. Very, very dark. Even once I arrived back in Martinsville, it was very dark. Still is.
One dark Christmas night.
If you celebrate Christmas, I hope yours was as satisfying as mine. If you don't, then I don't reckon it was. But whatever, I hope your day didn't involve any wet trout and belly-slapping.
Au revoir. No, there are NOT any toasted folks here. Not yet, anyway.

Abandon Hope All Ye... and Such

With all due acknowledgement to Dante, “Abandon Hope All Ye...” is a geocache I placed in Eden, NC, over ten years ago, at a long-abandoned bridge over the Dan River (the cache is limited to premium members only, so if you’re not one, I’m afraid you won’t be able to view the cache listing). I had happened upon the bridge while hunting another cache back in 2009, and the location struck my fancy. In 2011, the cache located there was archived, so I took advantage of the opportunity to place one of my own. A decade and some change later, mine is still active.

The bridge is narrow and well-worn, though it doesn’t appear to be unsafe for foot traffic. To access the cache, however, one must negotiate some treacherous terrain. It’s only gotten more rugged over time, as erosion has taken its toll at either end of the bridge. The cache has ended up missing a handful of times during the past decade, but since I am so fond of the location, I have always gone back and replaced it rather than archive it. Two weeks ago, I went by to check it out after a cacher who was unable to find it suspected it had gone missing; indeed it had... again. This evening, on my way to Martinsville, I stopped by with a replacement container on hand, which I put very securely in place. I hope this one will stay put for a while.

It’s been one of those weeks with all kinds of goings-on, so I haven’t managed to fit in any blogging. I got the Christmas decorations up at the house, wrapped up one major writing project (more news on that later), and made considerable headway on another. Last night we had company — our regular supper club gang, the Nelsons and the Albaneses — for a little Christmas dinner. And tomorrow, we’ve got some more socializing to do at the Nelsons’ place. Hopefully, the weather on Sunday will be conducive to a caching outing.

And that, as they say, is that. Be good to yourselves, and be good to Buffalo (or wherever you hail from). Ciao!

Almost dusk — the view of the Dan River north of the bridge Dan River south of the bridge View of the sky from the front porch in Martinsville, 9:30 p.m.-ish

Taco Time and Other Treatz

No, that's actually my homemade spicy Thai ahi tuna in the above photo. TacoTime was the name of a geocache ( GC9JC1T ) I picked up in Reidsville on my way to the old homestead in Martinsville last night. It was essentially a park & grab — one of those that you generally don't have to look for very long because it's pretty obvious. It was a pleasing enough cache, but like so many that are hidden near otherwise abandoned or deserted areas, somebody decides that they absolutely must sit in their freaking cars for extended spells right there near the cache. I think I'm going to start a website that features coordinates for non-existent caches and call it www.muggleswhositincarsalldayfornoapp.... Wonder if it'll get much traffic.
Once I got to Martinsville, I made a supply run at the nearby Food Lion, headed home, and cooked up the lovely Thai dish you see above. It was quite delicious — and definitely HOT!
Friend Samaire stopped by bearing a couple of goodies she had picked up in New Jersey from mutual friend and fellow writer, Patrick Freivald. First was a Concord grape pie, which is apparently a regional dish; I wasn't aware Concord grape pies existed. I'm glad they do because this sucker was delicious. I followed the baking directions, but I was afraid the crust came out a bit overdone. It was dark, but by gummy, the texture was perfect. So, Concord grape pie is a dandy dish I would love to sample again. Second was a bottle of hot maple syrup, from Patrick's label, Frog's Point Honey. I've had Patrick's hot honey before, and it's fantastic. So is the "Spicy, Eh?" maple syrup. I put it on pancakes this morning, and it had just the right amount of HOT for my palette (your mileage might vary). To try these sweet/hot treats out for yourself, visit www.frogspointhoney.com . I bet you'll be glad you did.
So, Friday evening was good for treats. Today, my brother's friend and estate executor, Jane, came for a visit to see some of Phred's old stomping grounds and cover a few points of business regarding the estate. It was a little sad, but we did have a good conversation; plus, I enjoyed taking her to a few nearby locations where my brother and I had spent much time together in our youths.
So, until next time, be good to yourselves and be good to others. Ciao! The Concord grape pie, fresh out of the oven

Grotesque and Others

Yes, it's Sunday, so of course it was a big ol' geocaching day. And quite a nice one, all around. Today's incarnation of the No-Dead-Weight Irregulars consisted of Almost-But-Not-Quite-Old Cupdaisy (a.k.a. Debbie), Old Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott), Old Rob (a.k.a. Old Rob), and Old Rodan (as the Beaver). Today's destination: Durham, NC, mostly around the Duke University campus. Our primary target was an Adventure Lab cache called " Grotesque " ( GC928YM ), which led us to several locations featuring sculptures, friezes, and such art around the heart of the campus. These were fun, and the bonus cache container turned out to be cute (see the thoughtful chap at left).
One neat little cache took us to the edge of a marsh, where we also found a wooden walkway leading a hundred feet or so into it. Sadly, the walkway had seen better days and appeared on the verge of collapse. Still, I made my way out to the far end, figuring that if it gave way, the worst that would happen is that I would get wet (unless there were piranha fish in the marsh, and I guess that would have been worse than getting wet). But the planks held, I took a few pics, and Cupdaisy found the cache. Interestingly, from there, we found another cache not too far away, and on our way back, we saw that the walkway had now been chained off. I rather suspect someone at the little preserve saw me exploring and decided to play things safe (liability issues, perhaps). Anyway, glad I managed to see the sights from there when I did. Lean just a little farther, Cupdaisy!
Just a little farther....
If I counted properly, we snagged a total of 18 caches today. Well, I did personally, at least. We stopped for a handful I had already found but that the other members of the team still needed. For lunch, we checked out a little joint called Dain's Place on Ninth St., not too far from the University. Good eats, though it reminded me of why sports bars are intolerable places to be on game days. My god, the volume of shrieking madness around us damn near shattered my eardrums. Still, it was all great fun — at least until we hit the road for home. Traffic was a monster, far worse than I've seen after a Thanksgiving weekend... well... ever, I'm pretty sure. Just fits in with my motto: There are too many motherfucking people. Lord have mercy, they make me tired. Fortunately, I know some back roads. Unfortunately, they fuckers had choked the back roads too. Fortunately, I know some back BACK roads. Those, at least, were passable.
And good lord... what happened to the long weekend? We just got off work a few minutes ago, and now it's four freaking days later. Time flies, I reckon, whether you're having fun or not. Fortunately, this go-round, it was mostly fun. Well, tolerable, anyway.
I managed to fit in some much-needed writing yesterday, although it wasn't quite as much as I'd hoped. This week looks good for making forward progress on that count, at least.
Stop fucking around, all right? Thx. Grotesque! Old Rodan, Old Rob, Almost-But-Not-Quite-Old Cupdaisy, Old Diefenbaker Out on the ricketty walkway over the marsh Looking back from the end of the walkway A few minutes later: well, dang if it hasn't been closed off!

Angel’s Envy, Turkey Day, Christmas Trees, and Cinderella

I don't always drink Angel’s Envy, but when I do, it’s
because some awesome friends are awesome.
For Ms. B. and me, the Thanksgiving weekend kicked off on Wednesday afternoon, as work let out at lunchtime. This worked out great for us because we had company — friends Stephen & Samire Provost — coming over for drinks and dinner early in the evening. We ended up having a lovely visit, with Marco’s Pizza  and some excellent Italian wine on the menu. To top things off, they brought over a bottle of Angel’s Envy bourbon, which turned out to be delightful. A lovely spirit, it is, with silky undertones and a long finish that gets mellower and mellower. I loved it. And a thousand thanks to Stephen & Samaire. Awesome friends indeed!
On Thursday — Thanksgiving Day — morning, Brugger and I rose pretty early and headed out to Browns Summit, the headquarters of friends Tom (a.k.a. Skyhawk63) & Linda (a.k.a. Punkins19) for a geocaching breakfast event. Tom served homemade biscuits with lots of fixings, not to mention coffee aplenty. A decent-size crowd showed up, and that really got the day off to a lovely start.
From there, Ms. B. and I headed back home and started prepping the feast. I had gotten us a big ol’ turkey breast, which I seasoned up and got cooking straightaway. We smashed some potatoes, cooked up some gravy, Brugger made a batch of savory mushroom & gruyere tarts, and we topped that off with large green salads. I was a little afeared I might have overcooked the dead bird when I checked the meat thermometer, but no... it was delicious and done just right — as was everything. As far as Thanksgiving Day dinners go, this one could hardly have been better (although, at the end of it, I was too full to partake of the cheesecake we had for afters; I’ll enjoy that later).
I had decided a while back, with Ms. B.’s blessing, that I would spend Thanksgiving night as well as some extra time at Pleasant Hill, the old homestead. So, after dinner settled a bit, I hit the road and headed first to Oak Ridge, just northwest of Greensboro, to snag a newish geocache. Upon giving the map a look, I noticed there was another cache over in Walnut Cove, a few miles farther northwest. So, I decided to go check that one out as well. I was pleased to see it was located at a graveyard, since graveyard caches are typically among my favorite. It turned out to be a fun cache indeed. That little side trip done, I continued on to Martinsville.
Many of my readers no doubt know that, against every conceivable expectation, I am the last of the family I grew up with. I lost my dad to complications from diabetes two decades ago. Last year, I lost my mom to COVID-19. Earlier this year, my younger brother passed away of leukemia. Now and again, these losses still overwhelm me. While my family was alive, Christmas was a momentous holiday. Mom always loved having a Christmas tree, and she collected a prodigious number of ornaments over her lifetime, most having some special significance. For those several years that she was debilitated with dementia, I kept that tree going up every Christmas. And now that she is gone... that they’re all gone... I treasure putting up the tree. So, on this night, at the house where I grew up... the place my mom loved most... I put up the tree and decorated it. An emotionally tough yet heartwarming undertaking.  I did this to honor my family that was. I imagine I will do this for as long as I physically can.
Kimberly and I will spend our holidays celebrating the family that is. My daughter, Allison, is remote, but close in heart, I know. So this is how I’m starting my Christmas season. It does hurt, but there is also a wonderful refuge in so many memories of perfect times — particularly during the holiday season — with my old family.
That done — and you can roll your eyes all you want to — for some reason, I felt drawn to put on the 1965 Rodgers & Hammerstein production of  Cinderella , starring Lesley Ann Warren and Stuart Damon. I hadn’t seen it, or even really thought about it, since I was a kid. Something about last night’s onslaught of childhood memories, I suppose. Anyway, I went ahead and watched it on YouTube . Was it any good? Well, I dunno; it was pretty much Cinderella as we all know the story. Since I still have something of a soft spot for old musicals, I found a couple of the songs pretty good. A handful of lines made me crack a smile. So I guess you could say I enjoyed it. I am certain it is not going into the regular holiday video rotation.
This morning, I found a nice breakfast at The Ground Floor , a relatively new coffee shop uptown, and then headed out on a geocache maintenance run, first to Philpott Dam, then to a couple around Martinsville. The hiking did me a world of good. On the way back, I grabbed a nice lunch at Hugo’s , also uptown. And this afternoon, now I’ve gotten this blog composed, I have a bunch of writing to do for upcoming projects. And thus I shall.
I’ll be back. Philpott Dam

Out of the Park and Others

This past Sunday’s geocaching outing of the No-Dead Weight Irregulars — consisting of Old Diefenbaker (a.k.a. Scott), not-quite-so-old Fishdownthestair (a.k.a. Natalie), and the Old Dude as the Beaver — took us back to Chapel Hill, where we sought one of our favorite varieties of geocache: one hidden in the deep, dark underground. This one is called " Out of the Park " ( GC55DEF ), located just off the UNC campus, in the Coker Pinetum , along Meeting of the Waters Creek. There are a couple of nice trails here, as well as what turned out to be a most colorful pathway into the depths of the earth.
The portal lies in a deep valley just off the nature trail, where a massive tree has fallen in the relatively recent past, all but obscuring the entrance from view. Getting down to it and back up from it are more difficult than negotiating the tunnel itself. To prevent tumbling into the chasm, Ms. Natalie made the mistake of grabbing a thorn-studded tree (which Scott informed us is called "The Devil's Walking Stick"), which resulted in considerable bleeding and swearing. Fortunately, no amputations were necessary. A rusty steel cable goes across the culvert, and I made the mistake of grabbing it on my way down. Unbeknownst to me, the section of cable was splintered sufficiently to bite my hand pretty deeply, which resulted in considerable bleeding and swearing. Fortunately, no amputations were necessary. A surprisingly large volume of water was gushing from the culvert's mouth, given there's been no rain to speak of in recent days. But we were all able to enter the darkness without mishap.
Apparently, this particular culvert has attracted graffiti artists of every stripe, and for almost the entire length of our journey into darkness — just under half a mile, by our calculations — the tunnel walls were decorated with intricate images, a variety of slogans, and the occasional dire warning that hell lay just ahead.
We hadn't gone but so far when Scott and I heard a holler, and we turned just in time to see Ms. Natalie take a quick seat in the chilly, rushing water. Yeah, it was pretty slick in there. Fortunately, her pride suffered more bruising than her butt, and from there, we proceeded without mishap — well, except for my flashlight going dead. I knew I should have brought that extra light along! Happily, Scott carried a spare, and he handed it over to me, if somewhat grudgingly. We pressed on and on, and — finally — our flashlight beams fell on an object that appeared slightly out of place in the deep, dark underground.
Indeed, it was the cache.
Once we had signed the log, taken a few pics, and re-secured the container, we made our about-face and hoofed it back toward the portal. To my chagrin, Scott's spare light also began to fade, so we made haste for those last few hundred feet. By the time we again emerged into daylight, this second light had also bitten the dust. But we had our smiley, and — happily — there were a couple of more caches along the nature trail, which proved a lot of fun to hunt. The woods here are gorgeous, and just enough fall color remaine to make the trip visually memorable. We found lunch at a lovely little place called Four Corners on Franklin Street, where I availed myself to what was surely the largest half rack of ribs I've ever been served. And they were freakin' delicious.
On our way back to Greensboro, we stopped off in Hillsborough to grab a trio of hides, one along the old Occoneechee Speedway Trail , where we've hunted caches several times in the past. It's a lovely place, the oval racetrack having long ago been swallowed by forest but converted to a hiking trail.
All in all, it proved a wonderful day to add to our caching totals. Definitely a day for quality over quantity, which, for me, is always more than fine.
Cache on. Along the Coker Pinetum Trails: A good place not to lose one's footing So far, so good. Oh, shit, Scott's got a camera. "No, dear, I didn't do anything foolish. Why do you ask?"

Foliage at Last

Fall color took its sweet time arriving this year, but since it finally has, the colors have actually been gorgeous. We're pretty much past the prime here, but some pockets of lush, brilliant hues remain out there. Yesterday after work, I left for the old homestead in Martinsville, but I decided to stop off at a nearby trail to scope it out for a possible geocache hide. It was nice to discover the little pond back there surrounded by colorful trees. It was well on its way to getting dark while I was back there, so I brightened up the color a little in Google Photos — but the hues themselves are very true to what my eyes actually saw.
Once ensconced at Pleasant Hill, I made some dinner — brisket burgers, which were delicious — and set to work on some editing for my upcoming short fiction collection. I ended up getting sidetracked in something resembling a debate on Facebook about Kenosha shooter Kyle Rittenhouse being acquitted on murder charges, but fortunately, it didn't devolve into a shouting match. Still, my brief post expressing frustration with the outcome of the trial was not intended to be an invitation for dissent. But, Facebook being Facebook, I reckon that was inevitable, and while it occupied some time, it could have been worse. I know I should know better, but sometimes, one needs to vent.
Anyway, on the way home this afternoon, I stopped and found a newish cache and maintained one of my own. And now it is time for a Campari spritz.

From Mountaintop Experience to Locked Up

It was a tad chilly this weekend but otherwise perfect for geocaching. Friday, as is my custom, I spent a pleasant evening at the old homestead in Martinsville, where I had some Carolina Reaper wings from Coach's Neighborhood Grill , which were passable; not as hot as all that, but fairly tasty. I spent some time digging through the old vaults trying to find a copy of Japanese Giants #1, which took some work, but mission finally acomplished. Thus, for the evening's entertainment, I made popcorn and watched Destroy All Monsters, since it was the feature movie covered in that issue of JG.
Saturday morning, after some grocery shopping, I headed out on the back roads, bound for the northern reaches of Danville. There was a cache at the site of a music festival from a couple of months ago — “ Mountaintop Experience ” ( GC9G0TX ) — which took me through some of the most brilliant fall foliage I’ve seen this season. The cache itself proved fun enough (though it wasn’t really on a mountaintop), and I went after another one nearby in Danville proper, which put me close to Tokyo Grill. I always enjoy their sushi, and I hadn’t visited since before the beginning of the pandemic, so I stopped there for lunch. I was not at all disappointed. Odd folk hanging out at the library
in Chapel Hill
Danville mission complete, I hit the highway, bound for home in Greensboro. After some compiling and editing for a new short fiction collection (details on this will eventually follow), Brugger and I headed over to Kernersville, to Casa di Nelson, where we dined and wined with friends Terry & Beth and Joe & Suzy. A lovely evening that ran quite late.
This morning — after a not very restful night, due to freaking old man physical issues — I joined forces with the No-Dead-Weight Irregulars (Rob and Scott) and hauled us over to Chapel Hill for Sunday geocaching. Our primary targets were a trio of Adventure Lab caches: “Explore More at Pritchard Park,” “Carolina Walking Tour,” and “Chapel Hill Art Walk”; the first took us around the nice nature trails at the library, while the latter two offered scenic tours of the UNC campus. Again, the fall colors here were pretty much at their peak, so it was really quite a lovely time of it. After the lab caches, we picked up a nice little hide called “ Locked Up ” ( GC8G3G6 ) at the nearby arboretum.
We finished our caching day with a somewhat late lunch at Top of the Hill Restaurant & Brewery , which is something of an old Chapel Hill institution. It’s been ages since I’ve been there, mainly because the place is typically so crowded it’s the very devil to get inside. Today, though, the crowd wasn’t bad, and the wait wasn’t long. The food and brew hit the spot after four-plus miles of hoofing it today.
Back in Greensboro again, and tomorrow begins another standard work week. Thanksgiving is coming up, though, and I must say I’m looking forward to it.
Peace out. Il Triello: Il Buono, Il Brutto, Il Cattivo Triceratops footprint in stone along the library's nature trail Diefenbaker toots his own horn on the Chapel Hill art walk.