"What the heck are you talking about?" That's the most common response uttered by family and friends when I first try to take them geocaching. And, though GC.com defines it best: "the sport where YOU are the search engine", this sport is better explained by example than by explanation. So, grab your GPS and join me in my attempts to convert muggles into geocachers.

The first two caches I hunted were with a co-worker. Ssshhh...don't tell anyone, but we snuck away from the office to play hooky with my new GPSr. It was a mighty fine afternoon. Two caches, quite close to my office building, were located and off we went. We walked, we talked, and we enjoyed the afternoon sunshine and woodlands and proved our GPS worthiness. We also learned to STAY ON THE TRAIL! Oh yeah...my co-worker? He's hooked. His girlfriend bought him a Garmin for Christmas.

The next outing with my sister took us into the sea oats on the tip of magnificent Anna Maria Island; water the color of aquamarine and waves like crystal. On the way in, we passed a group of cachers coming out and traded notes on this find (among others). Sister? Hooked. And, get this...she had a GPS all along. It was a state-issued Magellan unit to go along with with the state-issued boat; it had never occurred to her that the GPSr was something that could also be used for having FUN.

My next outing was with a teenager. In the heat? Waah. In the woods? Waah. With you? Waah. Doing what? Waah. Teenager? Hooked another one.

Now, let's try my city slicker girlfriend. After convincing her to go outdoors at all, we took off for a beautiful preserve on a clear, bright, fall afternoon. During the entire walk (on an extremely well marked gravel path, I might add) she kvetched about being raped or murdered. As luck would have it, she was the one to make the find...her very first find. Sadly, it was three Ziplocs with no loot. Vandalized. But, as we approached the car (still alive and untouched by the nature trail gremlins), she was ready to roll again. In the dark!! We had to hit a 7-11 for flashlights, snacks and trade items. Hooked? You bet. Hubby put a top-of-the-line Garmin in her Christmas stocking.

Now, it's time to try another co-worker. How about one from upstairs this time to spread things around? Out we go again. By the time we made a couple of finds and returned to the office, she had planned the first annual SFCC GPS Easter Egg hunt for everyone she knew who had children. She and her hubby couldn't decide which model to buy, so she bought a Magellan and he bought a Garmin. Gee, I love a two GPS family.

Hard at work one morning, the phone rang and it was a friend who was chaperoning a student outing in Minneapolis. She was in a very cool sculpture park and was sure there MUST be a cache in there somewhere. Could I look it up while she ran down the street to the nearby Target store so she can buy a GPS? Heck, yes! One Garmin and NO pocketknife later (honestly, who DOESN'T have a pocketknife on their keychain?), she called to say she couldn't get the GPS package open. Oh well...the point is...yep, she's hooked.

The next four guys were a hoot. My long-time friend had been caching with me before but was mostly bored with it. For some reason, this day we had managed to find a couple of options that piqued his interest. Enroute, we would be having a pre-cache dinner with three of his friends. During the meal, we tried to convince the group to join us. I have to tell you, these were four gay men who would much rather be shopping in an air-conditioned mall than outdoors in the summer humidity, digging in dirt. But, when I whipped the GPS out of my purse, one of the men screamed, "Gimme that thing, I'm a gadget freak!" The deal was sealed. Off we went to one of the coolest caches I've found (To Helen Back), and I can safely say that at least one of them is hooked. He plans to get some kind of new-fangled GPS/phone combo.

Happily, I've also managed to hook a handicacher. We've done a couple of lunchtime cache runs together, as well as a meet-n-greet or two. My appreciation for her sense of adventure spurs me to think about caching with new awareness. Now, if she could only decide which GPSr to buy...

My last adventure involves the great "do not, under any circumstances, read or plan ahead" outing. After totally ignoring the instructions and heading out at dusk (without flashlights or bug spray), we found the cache, but managed to get ourselves locked into the preserve for the night. After deciding not to ram the gate with her SUV (my plan), she called 911 (her plan). Read the "how-not-to-cache" saga. But, as you may have guessed, in spite of it all, she's hooked with a rather expensive (yet story-filled) start to her caching adventures.