This Month:

• Geocaching for the First Time: A Story That's Kind of How it Happened, by Sting aka wray_clan
• Geocaching with the Kid, by ddirgo
• Kids' Quotes

It took a week of endless phone calls and messages and explanations, but all of them were there as the last car door closed shut and the car drove off. They all turned their attention to the dad leaning on his open trunk.

"Now, this," he motioned to the object in his hand, "is a GPS. You can go anywhere in the whole world and this little thing will tell you where you are, give or take ten feet."
"Just ten feet?"
"Just ten feet."
"Wow."

They split up into the cars and soon the dad was leading the other dads and trying to concentrate on the road as There were nine of them and seven of them wondered what the little treasure hunt was and hoped that somebody left a twenty in it. the kids laughed and moved forward and stretched backward in their seats and playfully hit each other. Soon the cars started dropping from the road but still the row of cars drove, drove, and drove on until no asphalt or concrete stayed to guide them on their way. The kids stretched and took water bottles and the little trinkets from the car that their moms had told them to bring. The dads packed their packs in the trunks of the car in the dirt parking lot as the mountain cast its shadow over them and dared them not to hike over, around, and up its menacing face.

"That's big," one of them said as he put his hand on his eyebrow and looked towards the looming summit.
"I've done better than that," another said.
"That's because you've done this go catching thing."
"Geocaching."
"Whatever."

There were nine of them and seven of them wondered what the little treasure hunt was and hoped that somebody left a twenty in it.

"Now, you can hold this," the experienced dad said to one of the new kids, handing him the GPS. "Just press this button and you zoom out," and they walked passed the trailhead sign and the boots crunched on the gravel for a minute.
"How far are we?" the experienced kid asked, to look experienced.
"Oh-point six-three miles."
"Is that far?"
"Not really. There's worse."

The boots crunched again and a bird screeched as it staggered through the foothill peaks under the gray sky.
"Oh-point six-two miles." Crunch, crunch, crunch. "Oh-point six-one miles."
"We get the picture."

They swung the emptied water bottles back, forth, back, forth with every stride.
"Geez. We're lost."
"How much farther?"
"Three-hundred-twenty-two feet," he said, staring at the screen in a look of immense concentration.
"Is that far?"
"Not at all," the experienced geocacher said.
"Are you sure this is the right place?"
"It can't be here."

"I'm thirsty." "Three-hundred-ten feet, three-hundred-six feet, three-hundred-two feet, two-ninety-nine feet."
"We get the picture."

In a few minutes, they all listened in anticipation.
"Forty-five feet, forty-two feet, thirty-nine feet."
They started looking under rocks, behind stumps, around the bushes, under the same rocks, behind the same stumps-"Twenty-two feet, eighteen feet…"
They all looked up from where they were looking at watched him as he walked on, still staring at the little screen.
"Fifteen feet, twelve feet, thirteen feet-"
"You're not gonna get any closer than that," the experienced kid asked.
"Seven feet, four feet, zero point zero-zero feet!" he said and he looked up at the experienced cacher, grinning a grin of triumph, Ha, ha! I win!
He looked back at the screen. "Seven point sixty-three feet, four point thirty-five feet." He looked up again.
"Told ya."

The dad took the GPS from the boy, "Why don't you look for it?"
He moved his mouth, exasperated, "But, but…"
The dad's smile cut him off.
The hunt went on.
"Are you sure this is the right place?"
"It can't be here."
"I'm thirsty."
"Then you shouldn't have drunk all your water."
"I'm still thirsty."
"That's too bad."

Leaves rustled.
"I get the rocket ship pin!"

"I get the super ball!"

"No, I get the super ball!" "I found it!"
"No way!"
"Where?"
"Back here," he pointed, behind the bush and beyond the row of small rocks as he held the olive green box by its handle. He kneeled on the ground and pulled, pulled, pulled on the handle.
"I can't open it."
"Here," the dad said, expertly pulling out the thingy on the side, pulling the lid back to reveal the endless, vast cave of Inca gold and Aztec gems.

"I get the rocket ship pin!"
"I get the super ball!"
"No, I get the super ball!"
"No you don't!"
"Can you pass the log over here?"
"The what?"
"Give me the little book."

It took five minutes, but everybody took something and left something and soon one of them was putting the last rock on the cache behind the bush and looked to the group standing nearby.
"That good?"
"Yeah."
"Let's go, then," he said, wiping the dirt off his backside.
"Can I have the GBS?"
"The GPS? Yeah, sure."

They started back on the trail with sweaters tied around waists and caps turned back on heads and walked, walked, walked through the maze of switchbacks.
"Oh-point six-five miles to the car." Somebody hit an empty water bottle on their palm, bop bop bop. "Oh-point six-four miles to the car."
"We get the picture."