Editor's Note: This month, we received two similar stories of wet and wild misadventures in geocaching. Read on to determine whether or not you're brave enough to hazard an island cache.
It was a girls' day out to grab my milestone 100th cache. The trip had been planned for weeks. I was prepared for any eventuality. I'm the kind of person who rarely cleans out the car; not because I am lazy, but because, some day, when I'm stuck in a snowdrift waiting for the snowplows to come find me, I know I can survive on the three year old granola bar and the half empty bottle of fizzless coke behind the passenger seat. So, where exactly did I go wrong?
It was a girls' day out to grab my milestone 100th cache. Doggieballue, Purplehugbug, and I were headed to Lake Coeur D'Alene and the Look out for the Rocks! cache. It is on a small island and accessible only by boat. Our boat of choice was the red canoe strapped to the top of the jeep. We launched at the boat ramp next door to the fancy hotel and prepared for a day of frolicking on the water!
Our captain, Doggieballue, took the bow position, Purplehugbug (who will hereafter be referred to as PHB) manned the middle, and I was anchorperson in the back.
"My first time in a canoe!" I thought, "How exciting! Whoa there! Kind of tippy too..." Hmmmmm.
Although it was an 80 degree day, the wind was whipping and the lake swarmed with all manner of watercraft, from cruisers and yachts to jet skis, and three crazy women in a canoe. I was having a blast rolling with the waves, watching them splash over our bow, and enjoying the scenery, totally oblivious to the tension wafting back from the front of the canoe. Hey, I can swim, what's there to worry about? We were barely past the docks when our steadfast captain expressed her concern about the rough water.
"This doesn't look too good," she hollered over her shoulder. "Make sure to turn the bow into the waves so we don't get rolled over!" And, two minutes later, "I'm worried, the waves are coming at us from all directions!"
"Woo Hoo!" I yell. "This is great!"
At this point, I think I heard a snort from the front of the canoe somewhere, but it was difficult to tell for sure over the roar of the waves slapping the sides of the canoe. We decided to stop on the point of Tubbs Hill to check out the open water and decide whether we would press on. After much debate, Doggieballue decided to put in a call to her husband for advice. Alvin, former Eagle scout, expert canoeist, serious fisherman and all around good guy advised, "You'll be fine!" Have I mentioned that I never really liked him that much? So, we loaded back up and set off across the open water.
"See we can do this, no sweat!" I yell.
"Have you ever seen those videos of boating accidents where the canoes get run over and cut in half?" asks PHB from her middle seat.
"Would you two get to paddling!"
Sheesh! The captain is getting cranky! About a third of the way across, the waves are getting rough and we are getting pounded on all sides.By this time, the whole back end of the canoe is underwater and I decide to go to plan B.
With a cry of "Abandon Ship!" I flung myself over the side of the canoe in an oh-so-graceful bellyflop and into the drink. I look down and notice, all of a sudden, that I am in water up to my seat.
"Um, girls, little problem here."
"Uh oh! Here is the bailer!" And over PHB's shoulder appears a bailer about the size of a paperback book. Right. By this time, the whole back end of the canoe is underwater and I decide to go to plan B.
With a cry of "Abandon Ship!" I flung myself over the side of the canoe in an oh-so-graceful bellyflop and into the drink. Unfortunately, that meant the other two sort of got flung too. Well, all for one and one for all, right? On the up side, apparently Doggieballue did not hear my call to abandon ship. How do I know this? My first clue was the lack of an oar shaped lump on my forehead for mutiny. But secondly, when I told her about my dive over the side of the boat, she shrieked, "What?! That was against the rules!"
Rules? There were rules?
"If the canoe started to sink, we were supposed to all move to the front, which would pull out the sinking end so we could bail it out!"
Uh huh. Does anyone else see the flaw in this plan? Three grown women standing in one end of a canoe? Anyway, we quickly righted the canoe and had two boats of rescuers on the spot in less than 60 seconds. Yep, nothing like a dozen spectators to witness our ineptitude! My 100th find would have to wait, but the up side is that we gave our audience a good story to tell for years to come.
"Remember when we fished those three women and their canoe out of Lake Coeur D'Alene? Heh heh heh!"
We live to entertain.
Yesterday, I finally graduated from raft to my first kayak. Yesterday, I finally graduated from raft to my first kayak. Got the paddle, lifejacket, water filter, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. When I got home, I showed the wife the new toy, and then told her I was going caching. This cache had been on my radar ever since I saw it; it was over four months old, and NOBODY's logged a "first to find" on it.
It's 3:30 on a Friday afternoon. I head out to the cache...which is about 20 miles on the other side of a major city...what was I thinking? Weekend rush hour traffic; I get to the cache region about 5:40. Two hours to go, or 35 miles as the crow flies. There's one cache popping up as being nearby, so I figure I'll take a few minutes and grab it. I spend maybe 15 minutes searching...okay, let's re-read the hint. What could possibly look like the hint? Ah...hole, hole, hole...um, nothing. Wait, last hole has a plastic bag in it...
I pull it up; it contains several broken items and a piece of paper. I'm ready to throw this in the trash when I see "geocache" on the paper. Oh, this IS the cache. Okay, let's just take it home and see what can be saved.
Hey, I can get used to this... I get back to the car and search for the boat launch. I find it, and make the kayak ready for my first trip, and attach my water-resistant Garmin GPS 72 to my PFD.
It's ten minutes to 6:00 p.m. and I head down stream to the cache. Nearly two miles (1.95miles) and 36 minutes later, I arrive at the cache. Hey Not bad for a rookie! On the trip down, I am sort of lead by a pair of Blue Heron who watch me, then fly ahead to wait until I get too close. At one point, there are four of them flying around. Hey, I can get used to this...
As I'm getting close to the cache site, I keep watching for the rock formation. That is the special reason for this cache. At .1 mile to the cache...coming around the bend...there it is!!!
Very very nice...
Now, for the cache...it's over, over, over there...
Okay, a few holes, let's check this one. Ugh...No! Um, umm, umm.
There's a hole between these rocks like that cache on top of the mountain, on the AT. Could it be? I get a stick and poke in the hole, poke in the hole, poke in the hole...
Nothing. Did I tell you how muddy this place is? Every other step, I'm in danger of sliding into the creek.
So, now that I've been poking the hole for five minutes or so, I think it's 'safe' to reach in. I lay down on the 'rock', reach under, and...still nothing! Darn! Oh, Oh...SPLASH! Well, so much for staying dry...
Okay, I'm wet, no cache...let's just go back. I climb into the kayak. At least with a seat, I'm not sitting in water...
I start going upstream. This isn't that bad. Whoa, whoa...why do I feel like a person just learning to ride a bike; every time I seem to lean just a bit, OVER I go!!! I swamped and swamped and swamped. Hey, wait...this doesn't float very well full of water...
Every now and then, I manage to empty it and climb in, only to roll right over!!! Oh, THIS is why that nice sales lady was showing me dry flotation bags. I am soaked head to toe, and so is all of my gear. Oh oh oh...
Okay, let's just drag this upstream for a spell...
So, I drag it and drag it and drag it...
Every now and then, I manage to empty it and climb in, only to roll right over!!!
Okay, let's drag it some more...
Hey, there's the heron again...they must be enjoying the show. After dragging it upstream for about 1/2 mile, I finally get to the deep, slow-moving water. Let's dump and try again. I use my hat as a bailing bucket. Did I tell you I didn't have a bailing bucket? Let's see, how did that move go? Place the paddle behind you, one hand on this side, one hand on that side, and and shove hip over...OOOOOH... SPLASH! This is nothing like a raft, which doesn't roll over.
Empty again...bail again...let's try this one more time. Hand, hand...shove...oh, let's just drop it in. Bam, I'm in!
Finally...okay, I'm in, smooth calm water, and I'm still floating...
I spot movement ahead...large Bird...it's coming closer. OH, MY GOD, it's an American Bald Eagle. OH, WOW...all the problems of the past hour are completely gone...WOW...
Everything now is peaceful. I paddle upstream. There's the heron again, right in the last place I saw them, and a deer that's come down to drink.
Oh, it's getting very dark now. One more reason to always be in the habit of waypointing your car when you get out. I mean, I know where my car is; it's near the river bank, I can't miss it...but it would be nice to know how far I still have to go. My only clue is using the distance to cache, but, that isn't much help. Was it 1.8 miles, or 2.2 miles? I hear voices and see a camp site in the distance.
Ah, home at last. Oh, my PDA was in my pocket...Ah, there's the landing. It's fully dark; it's after 9:00 now. I'm beat. Tired. I drag the boat to the car. I do NOT want to see the bottom of this new kayak; I'm sure it looks like a rental. I load up and drive home. WOW! Still heavy traffic, but I get lucky; I get to miss most of it, as I'm going north.
Ah, home at last. Oh, my PDA was in my pocket...