I slept like a log despite a rather vivid dream in which I
had to help various Z-list celebrities escape (on motorbikes) from Northern France which was under the relentless
rule of a zombie apocalypse led by the late Sid James. Sometimes I wonder what
goes through my head.
Over brekkie I peered into the Internet to see what I’d
missed. I hadn’t missed much. So I got dressed, got the dogs organised and we
drove out to Kings Wood to do a spot of geo-maintenance. Over the weekend some
bunch of people walked my geo-series and found one of the caches was broken.
I say “broken”;
apparently the actual cache had gone missing but the paper log (in its bag) was still there. A
replacement cache was needed.
This has happened on pots I’ve hidden under rocks recently
a few times recently. The pots aren’t missing; just broken.
Admittedly according to the rules it’s up to me to maintain
caches I’ve hidden, but surely maintenance of caches is
a community responsibility to keep this hobby going? How many people go out
looking for caches compared to how many make the effort of putting the things
out? So many people get *so* much*
from the hobby. Is it really unreasonable to expect people to contribute
something back? It’s not the money – a replacement pot costs pence – you can
get packs of six from the pound store. You can get free film pots from Boots in
the High Street. It’s the time that you (I)
have to take out of a busy life to sort it that is the issue. What with work
schedules, family weddings, cameras up the jacksie and one thing and another,
time is at something of a premium for me right now. Anyone finding a broken pot
might pop out a replacement in less than a minute. Demanding that I go out to
do it takes me a couple of hours.
Last night I had a whinge about this on the “Geocaching in Kent” Facebook page. I
intended it to be a general whinge, but the bunch of people who’d seen the
problem at the weekend took offence and things got rather nasty.
In the end I deleted the thread.
The social side of hunting Tupperware used to be such fun.
Back in the day I organised at least one geo-event for the local geocachers
every month. We had some wonderful walks here and there. Great fun out on
boats, and in the deepest countryside, and some rather good trips to London.
Now it is just one big argument. The sad thing is that
through this silly hobby I’ve met a *lot*
of good friends. Those who cause the nastiness are all “keyboard warriors” who live miles and miles away.
Such a shame.
But in the meantime maintenance needed doing… We drove up
to Kings Wood, and despite Fudge’s straggling we had a rather good walk to and
from the problematical pot and back again. As we walked we met one cyclist and
a couple of runners. You can walk for hours in Kings Wood without meeting
anyone else.
We came home. As the dogs barked at their own shadows I
hung out the washing until they fell asleep, then I set off towards work. Narrowly
avoiding being run off the road by a bus I negotiated the new traffic lights at
the end of my road. I felt it rather ironic that the bus had huge signs all
over it saying about the driver being under instruction. Don't bus driving
instructors cover traffic lights?
I headed west as I do when heading for
Pembury. Yesterday and a couple of days ago some new geocaches went live on my
way to work. I took a mile's diversion to see if I could find them. I did.
I then went to Tesco where I got some money so I could pay
for for dinner, then went into work where the canteen let me down. Usually the
food is rather good. Today they were having a "burger day". I could have whatever I wanted for dinner
provided it was burger and chips. I got a sandwich and sulked until it was time
for work.
The rest of the day passed in something of a blur…
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