I admit it, my caching habits of late have been poor at best. The techno travel bug race website is down and I haven't fixed it. I have not been caching in over a month. My faithful geopack sits alone in the corner, looking much cleaner than any geopack deserves to look. The geopack is my Raven, tap tap tapping at my guilty conscious. With accusing zippers, it pleads every morning, "Don't you love me anymore?" The geopack is my Raven, tap tap tapping at my guilty conscious. With accusing zippers, it pleads every morning, "Don't you love me anymore?" Each day I pass through its wanting gaze. From its perch in the living room where I placed it so many cold nights ago, it calls to and haunts me with desperate abandon.

Yesterday morning, my resolve broke. I lovingly unpacked and repacked the contents, taking careful inventory and mental notes of needed items. Fresh batteries. My compass still sits in my truck console...have to remember to put that back in its special pocket. I need to recharge the PDA, surely the battery is toast. I'm going to need some pens, updated gpx files, spare log books and dog food. Have to pack dog food now; Cooper is getting bigger every day. As if reading my mind, wonder pup himself walks into the room and pisses on the rug. He needed to go out, and I didn't notice. Not just outside, but outdoors. Oh, woe is my hobby and curse my neglect of my own affections. Time to get back on the ball. Chin up, pack on and off to work. Today, there shall be caches, for I have willed it to be so.

Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony. My morning starts like any other, the details of which are just monotonous enough for my caffeine deprived brain to handle at O'my gosh, it's early o'clock. The fact that BVCY swim was up an hour earlier than me is small consolation. After my day has begun and my blood-caffeine level has surpassed the national deficit, I remember my geopack and my promise of caches.

Lovingly, I remove my PDA from its protective cover and cradle it in its...well, in its cradle, actually. Let there be light! And I saw that there was light. And it was bad. "Welcome to the Audiovox Thera Setup program. Tap the + to begin setup." Noooooo! This is bad, this is very, very bad. My beloved PDA is acting like it's the first time it's been used. Like it doesn't even remember me or our joyous, happy days spent together caching back when the sun was high and the breezes warm. Say it ain't so Joe! SAY IT AIN'T SO!

My Mapopolis. My GPXSonar. My valuable 'life-line' contacts list. My Pocket Risk! All is forgotten in the stone halls of the dead, where the spiders spin and the great circuits fall quiet, one by one. All restored now, except the pocket Risk (grumble grumble), so today there shall be caches. As soon as I get some more coffee.