GC12

GC12 is something of a Mecca for Geocachers, particularly those that are looking at completing the Jasmer Challenege.  It was published 5/12/2000, and at present it is the second oldest cache in the world.  The only cache older, Mingo, was published one day earlier.  Really, when it gets to old-these are the caches you look for.  And so, we decided to look. 

A buddy of mine and frequent caching companion told me that a mutual friend would be coming up from Utah for his birthday, the 24th.  The goal was to get GC 12, 16 and 17 which would fill us up for May, June and July of 2000 and possibly if we had time, we would head out towards Tillamook to get GCA5 which would give us November of that year.  It was ambitious, but would be time well spent.  With a hobby that has only been around for 12 years, you only have to look at old logs of caches like GC6 where they are found once or twice, and then archived because nobody was really thinking in these terms at the time.  Furthermore, these caches were not always created with longevity in mind.  It was something for a bunch of nerds who spent a fair amount of time on internet bulletin boards so go and explore nature.  The interaction between hiker and techno-geek, I am sure, is not a frequent occurrence.

We headed out early that morning with two GPSr's full of caches to keep us occupied if we should find ourselves with a bulk of time (I considered this scenario unlikely, however I also loaded the Northwest Trails Map on my unit just in case we found ourselves wandering).  We took the back roads to the approximate cache location and got within about .8 of a mile before finally pulling over into an area that was obviously used as a shooting range frequently.  Live ammunition and expelled shells littered the ground along with broken bottles and general litter.  Yes, I had wished that I brought garbage bags, but for some reason I didn't. 
Mental note: start packing bags for CITO.

At the end of the asphalt covered driveway was a concrete barrier which, as it turned out, stopped cars from dropping into the five foot washout that the weather had created.  It was a perfect little break between two sections of road that probably had not been maintained in any real way for years-save for the barrier that would ensure that you didn't have to call Gieco crying.

Surprisingly, although we were not exactly high in elevation at the time, there was still a fair amount of snow on the ground in spaces.  We would walk on asphalt for a bit, then through the snow with some red peppering that I thought looked like paprika, but to which my friends explained to me that was some nature of bacteria that would cause dysentery.  Suffice to say, I will not be putting this on my deviled eggs any time soon. 

It turns out that the initial section of road was not the only area that had been washed out.  After about .3ths of a mile hiking, we found a raging stream which only had two moss covered logs to act as bridges.  With an unsteady foot, the three of us made it across and into what would become the first of much snow we would encounter.

At some point we reached a Y in the road and we weren't getting any closer to the trail that my GPSr was telling me we should be at.  So, a short jaunt up a steep-ish hill and through some brush revealed the path to the cache.

It is an interesting thing, being a geocacher and walking in the woods.  I don't have a clear memory for how exactly I viewed things when I went hiking with my father when I was a kid.  Typically we were looking for dear track, bedding spots and the like.  But now, the same age as I was when I went to live with my father, I don't look at bedding spots, I look at places where I can hide a silver bison tube.  I would never really do that; hide a bison tube in the middle of a forest that could support a much larger cache.  In part for integrity reasons, but also because I wouldn't want to maintain it.  I love hiking, but at the time we were on the trail and closing in on GC12, I just had no desire to come up there to maintain a log.  Thank you very much, but I know other ways I would prefer to spend my Saturday

In a few short steps we were within feet and finally upon the location of GC12 (although it was take us a bit more to find it as the coordinates zeroed out 30 feet from where we found it-truthfully, though, 30 foot accuracy 12 years ago is really pretty good).  I don't know that it was the wonderful experience in terms of finding the container that I had expected, it was more of a "we are standing on history", and which was a great feeling.  It was just nice to stand where Moun10bike, Dave Ullmer and any other number of people had stood (457 people as of this writing, plus who know how many more over the course of the years that couldn't find it).  It was a great hike to what ended up being my 1800th find on my 383rd consecutive geocaching day.

We took at look at the GPSr and realized that along a straightish trail, GC17 was only 2 miles away (tack on another half mile for switchbacks).  It seemed doable.

Oh how wrong we were. 

The trail, while straight on a flat surface, actually had a fairly steep climb in a pretty short distance (I believe around 700 feet elevation gain).  It was a beautiful hike, and we were jazzed at the opportunity to hit both caches one the trail and things seemed well enough for a fair portion of the trail.  At one point, at about 3500 feet we were able to look out on the valley and see the clouds rolling in and around the valley in really a quite beautiful way.  Rocky outcroppings, as well, gave one of my friends an opportunity to channel his inner Daniel-son and does the crane kick.  No he didn't do the kick and I am fairly certain he would have fallen on his butt if he did.

Along with all the beauty, it also seemed like several people had taken the presence of metal trail signs not for their intended purpose, but as an obvious gift from the State of Oregon for drunken gun owners should never be without a target.  The sign, the sign posts...just about anything was shot up as we crawled up the trail.  It is completely infuriating to me and I, personally, wanted to smack each and every one of these people right along with their emptied cans of Mickey's and Natural Ice.

But I digress....

At some point the trail we were following became white in color...and then it became a trial only in suggestion.  We were able to determine where it was intended to be based on the relatively flatness of the snow and where my GPSr pointed, however at some point those waters became a bit mucky too.  And have you ever really tried to walk through snow without snow shoes?  It isn't easy.  Not at all, particularly when your 2 mile trek becomes blocked by increasing amounts of this snow.  Each step means you are sinking in by at least 4" and brings you barely closer to your destination.  For a while we followed someone else’s tracks which seemed to go in effectively the same way we wanted to go.  Those footprints were a "he" to us when we referred to them.  We didn't say "the tracks go this way", it was "well, he went this way...probably going the same way".  Whoever he was (or she, no gender discrimination here), we trudged on with his snow shoes guiding our way.  And then, at some point our ghost traveler decided that the direction he was going was impassible, and left.
You would think this would send us the same message...but it didn't.
Anyone that has cached with me knows that I am nothing, if not insatiable, when I am hiking to a cache.  And in the short time I have been doing this, I have only turned around once.  I would not be scared, and neither would my geo-companions.  Although, I have to wonder if we weren't all thinking-in some regard "we are now in at least 6 feet of snow, we have another mile to go and only one bottle of water between three adult men, this is not the best of ideas".

I was, but I didn't want to say anything.

We trudged on, losing what existed of a trail and making our own way as the compass pointed.  Finally, we got to a point where the snow was a t ground level and we could see actual dirt.  I will never be able to full articulate how happy I was to see dirt.  To see a ground surface that I wouldn't have to fight with.  That wouldn't have had me sink with every step.  Oh dirt, how I loved you that day.  Until, of course, we hiked more and got to more snow.  And more snow.  And then...more...in fact, so much more that the path, long gone, was completely buried under a snow drift.  We were within .7th of a mile and there was no path.  It just wasn't there; I couldn't understand where it had gone.  The GPSr said it was there, but my eyes, admittedly tired, couldn't register it.  Nor could either of my friends.  We were, as they say, at an impass.

It was 2:30 by this time and we were at just over 4000 elevation.  We had been hiking for about five hours and gained at least 2000 feet on this hike and at some point we realized, exhaustion + dangerous hiking conditions are not the best bedfellows.  And for the second time since I started caching, we turned around.

The trip down was, obviously, easier and this time we decided to try the paved road that would loop us out more but provide a better-non snow covered walking surface.  Along the way we found a stolen car (I think), a full can of beer (if you call it that) and a cow that we, for a time, dubbed Norman.  We did eventually head out to GC16, and get it, but that story is really not much of a story at all. 

Besides, my boots are still soaked from snow.

A Day at Dog Mountain

Spring...

What a novel concept in 2012.

Our Spring in Vancouver has been riddled with rain, rain and more rain but when the weather forecast indicated that it was going to be nice Saturday, I decided that it was a perfect opportunity to get out and enjoy a full day geocaching. As I said a couple weeks ago, I have spent some time working on the Jasmer challenge and last week while out with the kids, I picked up "The Burn" GC172 to fill my 1/2001 spot on my grid. This left only May and June of 2001 before I could happily say that I had finished that year. But honestly, the prospect of driving 45 minutes just to fill a grid spot just didn't sound as interesting in a beautiful day. No, I wanted a hike.

So, I decided to head out to a spot my eldest had mentioned before, Dog Mountain, and spend my day hiking. I was awake early, 6:30, (although, truthfully, I tend to always wake this early, and started getting myself together .
A quick check on the Geocaching.com website indicated that there were 8 caches on Dog Mountain that could be done. But what I was really interested in was a 5/5 not too far from the top of the mountain called "Rock Quarry" that after 4 months had still not been found. To FTF a 5/5 would have been the perfect celebration of a beautiful day and I was really looking forward to it. I loaded up the GPSr, packed some water and filled up the car to head out.

I arrived later than I would have liked to, around 9:30(and already the parking lot was full of people). Evidently someone else had the same idea but as this was the first time that I had ever really tackled a trail like this I didn't know what the real foot traffic was going to look like. The first cache that I looked for was part of the CU series (CU 127 Kelly-Green, I believe), something of a power trail put out several months ago that I had been picking at in spurts. It should have been a film can behind a sign, but unfortunately the sign had been removed and it looks like the film can with it. Undeterred, I headed up the trail. Something should have signaled to me that this was not going to be as easy as I hoped as in the first .2 of a mile, I started to feel the burn on my legs.

Unlike previous adventures, I was actually fairly prepared for this one. I had packed water, a fleece, goodies and a windbreaker as well as energy gel (like what cyclist use) and some music on my phone to listen to. What I didn't have is an efficient way of carrying it all. It was in a courier bag that we used to use as a caching bag which we had abandoned a while ago because of its inefficiency (note to self-buy a day pack). The first cache was .3ths of a mile away, which is deceptively close as with all the switchbacks I probably hiked at least twice that before I got to "the Rock", a sly reference to the Lion King. A beautiful outcropping of rock with a bison tube nearby for the log. The location was quite something but what was needed was the break. Taking some time to relax my legs which had not properly warmed up and hydrating myself, I snapped a few photos and took in the area. Absolutely beautiful.

Determined, I set off for my next find. It is an important lesson that when you decide to climb a 2900 foot mountain, you pace yourself. I recognized this quickly but as I crossed paths with hikers I must say that I felt like I should be moving quicker. Especially when two of the hikers that I was passed by were 60 somethings. If someone who could arguably be my parents are passing me with their trekking poles, I obviously need to work on my health. About a mile up the trail I encounter a Y in the trail with a wooden sign at the junction. On it, two signs. One pointing to the left saying "more difficult" and the other "less difficult". Someone, probably one of the cocky hikers who had passed me and been up this trail several times had scribbled under the "More Difficult" sign "The Way of the Samurai ". Well, with the backside of my quads burning after only 1.2 miles I didn't feel that I would be wielding the katana today, so to the right I went.

To me, it is slightly laughable that anyone would label it as "less difficult", upon embarking on this trek I was immediately greeted by a rapid, unrelenting ascent that really taxed my already sore legs. You ever seen Office Space? You know the opening scene where the old man in the walker ends up passing everyone as they were stuck in their cars? Well, I was the guy in his car and as I walked up the trail and saw more 60 somethings doing trail cleanup, I couldn't help but feel they were the ones in the walker. Actually, that feeling pretty much stuck to me all the way up and down the mountain. The next cache, "Crest" was so named after a benchmark which was quite close to it. Labeled as being 300 feet off the trail, bushwacking was needed. Now, it is important to recognize that by this point i was already sore, my lungs were burning some and as I looked at the prospect of bushwacking at all, I intended on taking no gruff from nature....so, I crashed through everything to get to the cache zone (and have now claimed my first scrapes and scars of the season). After making my way through and over nature, I popped out into a clearing that would have been quite picturesque had it not been for a tree inconveniently placed in the middle of picture range. It was an plateau that offered a spectacular view of the Gorge from about 1300 feet. Fortunately, I found the cache, unfortunately I couldn't locate the benchmark and to be honest, I just didn't care all that much. So, I moved on.

As is typically the case, I found the easy path back although as I was crashing through wilderness , I worried that I was going to wake up some sleeping monster who was just ill tempered enough to beat up a tired Norwegian Geocacher. I am not sure I cared too much at that point, but I pressed on believing that I could either reason with the beast, or possibly play possum should the situation arise.

Thank the heavens for geocachers, I must say. The next cache on my list was called "Dog Mountain: Almost to the top". Thank you, so much, for that marker. Without which I would have still wondered where the heck I was. I also used these cache breaks as a way to rest and allow my legs to stop screaming at me. This particular cache was located behind a moss covered tree that was a bit like an octopus in appearance and right off the trail which had narrowed from something analogous to a two lane road all the way to a single lane country backroad.

Oh, have I failed to mention the wind? You see, the entire hike up I would pass people in their very nice hiking apparel and comment on the 30 mph winds that would be greeting me. Well, let's just say that they had been making their acquaintance with me for some time and this reprieve was welcomed.

Hiking all this way is hard enough, doing so while having to fight a head/side/tail/wind was not exactly making the process easier. Resolving myself to the final trek, pain and exhaustion long having made their presence known, I headed off to "Puppy Point", a cache near an outcropping of rock. Yet another wonderful viewpoint and the final stop before I summited Dog Mountain. Now, there was a sign there that was probably supposed to reassure me. It let me know that it was only .4ths of a mule to the summit. Did it reassure me as I looked long and hard at the winding trail and steep ascent that lay in front of me? Not really. But, I made a 3 mile trek to this point, I could do the last bit. And I did...with several breaks in between. Now, I should say something about how majestic the final view was and how all that was with the 3.4 mile hike. I should also say the cache was really the icing on the cake. But I won't because while the view was great, what really made this journey memorable was THE journey. The old man with his dog and an OPB water bottle and the young couple chatting me up as I took a break at 1500 feet. Really, the view from the top was wonderful, but the trip up was better .I realized, also, as I had no desire to hike any further. Alas, the 5/5 would go unclaimed for another day.

Then, of course, I had to go back down.

While it was a relief not to be using that particular muscle group any more, I discovered that while I could made a whole trip to the top that I had no desire to with a set of muscles ache (as I am sitting and writing this, my knees still hurt). I took the Samurai way back down and pick up my final find for the day, "Doggone Difficult".

2.5 hours up, 1 hour down. My legs still hurt and I have six caches under my belt. If opportunity strikes you, make this hike but do so prepared....I only realized after I had fully descended the mountain that a innocent looking pole at the trailhead had the words "difficult hike" etched in it.

A side challenge

So as I am still recovering from the holidays and it seems just as I finish one holiday there is another laying in wait, road trips to complete the adventure have been in short supply.
Really short supply.
Excessively, really.
Fortunately, I have been able to cache still and get away from town from time to time and thus is what I have been up to.
A buddy of mind and I took 2/29 off and blitzed Beaverton Oregon. We started at a breakfast event and somehow worked out 60 caches in about seven hours. Even staying in such a small area really made us take a ridiculous amount of time just traveling. A little less than 10 caches an hour isn't too bad, but obviously not the numbers you would find doing a power trail. Still, it was a heckuva ride and it left me drained at the end of the day. I'll see where I am in four years when next we have a Feb 29th to concur.

I did busy day. A quite busy day, actually. Q couple weeks back the same buddy and I headed our for a serious pass at a multi icon day. The goal was potentially 11 icons (I was counting a Benchmark and the Challenge cache in there). We had to head to Corvalis Oregon to get the webcam caches and ended up picking up an old cache at the same time. Then, we headed up to Salem to get the rest of our icons.

It is important to note that I started this particular day off with Food poisoning and the first icon we got that day was an event....at a breakfast place.

All told, 9 icons that day, including a very fun Whereigo.

The final challenge that I am somewhat obsessing on is what's called the Jasmer Challenge. The goal is to find q cache in every month and year since the inception of Geocaching in 5/2000. Anything post 2004 this isn't actually too hard to do, but it gets progressively more difficult as you go older.

I don't think early hiders really saw the legacy potential of geocaches (or stashes, as they were known in the early days). I believe there was just a perception that "meh, I'll do another" and through that process, GC6 etc... Were allowed to quickly die. Now, the oldest caches in the world begin with GC12 and go from there.

Like many aspects of geocaching, I feel somewhat spoiled not only being in a cache rich territory like I am now (with my daily streak currently at 360) but being in the birthplace of this game. People plan special vacations to come to Groundspeak HQ. Me, I can go there any Friday I want to take off. I went to the APE cache on a lark, and realize now that I was quite fortunate to have had that experience. In any event, I am working on Jasmer and I got to puck up a few quite cool older hides yesterday as a result.
Included with this post are a few memories of the multiple hides I have used to fill my Jasmer grid. "Wash out for that lake", one of the oldest caches in Seattle (3/2001) was a marvelous little journey and "Hamilton Viewpoint", while not as old (1/2004, I think) was still a hole on my chart.

I think as cachers, we just find ways to give ourselves something to shoot for. And to be honest, it keeps things interesting for me.

The location of our next cache placement

So where did we go?

Well, we moved. And that is about the bulk of it. Not out of Washington, mind you, just a few miles away.  When you move a group this big, things inevitably take a back seat....in our case, this adventure. But we are back. Well, part if us are back. Papa Reaper will be taking this adventure from here on in with a few trips journeyed with some of the younger Reapers. Where next? North, north north. Stay tuned readers.

Jail House Castle Rock

Hello readers. I realize it has been a while since we have posted. The holidays are busy for a family no matter what the size. Found this one today while out in castle rock Washington and had to share. Absolutely beautiful older building in a little town just off I-5.

Another one

Don't ask ;-)