Cache-hint

Hints—the bane of my caching existence, they have the power to turn me from a mild-mannered Clark Kent to a ferocious Incredible Hulk.

Let me rewind a little: I really try not to use hints. However, I absolutely refuse to spend an hour looking for a nano-cache. Uh-uh. No way. There’s simply not enough pay-off … looking that long for a nano turns a hobby into a profession and that’s not my bag, baby.

After those first 15 minutes pass and the glorious discovery of that nano or micro is not forthcoming, forsooth sir!, it’s time for the Grand Ceremony of Hint Decoding. Luckily on my easy-peasy Droid (using c:geo, what a sweet, but flawed program!), hint decoding takes about as long as touching the screen.

Sweat pours down, flash floods on the dusty surface of my face as I wait the sixteen microseconds it takes for the ROT13 to magically make way for English. More times than most, what I find is a light that illuminates the way to cache discovery.

Many times, however—and too many, if you ask me—the cache owner is seized by the Dumb Demon and posts something so inane, so useless, so … infuriating that I instantly stop my search and move on to better pastures. Because, you know Mr. McGee, you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.

(Extra points for you if you know that’s from the Bill Bixby mid-70s Incredible Hulk vehicle.)

Yesterday, I searched for a micro that is hidden in a rock garden—some of the rocks were massive two-tonners—and the hint? One word: “Rock.” Oh yes, just … ROCK. Apparently, I was supposed to be looking for a ROCK in a ROCK GARDEN,  you see. Silly me.

Several days ago, after slogging through mud, snow, and hail storms (I may have slightly exaggerated), I find one nano. After the requisite 15-minute tick-tock have elapsed, the ever so helpful hint was “in the parking area.” Really? You don’t say! From 50 feet away, my GPS receiver’s arrow was pointed directly towards … you guessed it, a parking lot area!!

Yet another time, the hider vomits out this one: “does not belong.” Oh man, that’s deep. Does not belong, aye? I thought Geocaches were naturally-occurring phenomena, as natural as a fresh tulip in a garden.

Come on now, people, make an effort. Seize your brain out of your head and step into the shoes of your cacher buddy: if you’re going to give a hint, what kind of hint should it be? Put some thought into it. Something explicit (it’s in the darned lamp post!) or something witty (“you light up my life”).

Whatever you choose, make it good. Make it—and I know I’m asking for trouble here—intelligent or don’t make it at all.

The next cacher’s life you save may be yours.

Geocaching

Have you heard about Geocaching? No? Well get thee hence to geocaching.com!

I’ve been ‘geocaching’ or ‘caching’ continuously since December 2003—with the exception of a few months here and there—and have found 145 caches which, while that may sound like a lot, is nowhere near impressive compared to others with thousands and thousands of finds.

For the most part, cache owners (those who hide caches) do a good job of hiding them, but as in many human endeavors, there are enough maroons to stir the crazy pot.

For example, some Boise cache owners are a particularly peculiar lot. I have found caches in a few cities, but Boise is in a class all its own. There’s this one for example, where the cache owner seems to actively seek a “Did Not Find”! The idea of caching is to hide so that others may find so this one boggles the mind.

The other bit of weirdness: some of the recent caches I’ve found have the most idiotic hints ever. This one reads “A hint world ‘signal’ you right to it.” When you get to the cache, you’ll find there’s a (traffic) signal box nearby but the cache itself cannot be said to be anywhere near this box. In fact, one could say there’s no damned connection between the two.

Here’s one more mindless hint: the owner places a cache in a fence post of a parking area then hints that the cache is in the parking area. Yeah? Really? What’s the use of a hint if the only thing it points out is the general area to which the GPS receiver brought you in the first place?

This same cache owner hid another cache under tree cover then, astoundingly, provides no hint whatsoever. Anyone who caches quickly realizes that a GPS receiver needs a clear view of the sky (and satellites). To put a cache under tree cover, while not necessarily a bad idea, makes finding that cache a bit tougher so either make the cache location obvious to cachers—which is an entirely different thing from making it obvious, by the way—or put in a good hint.

Of course this same cacher has 911 cache finds but 158 cache hides. 158! Cachers with these numbers love to hide caches with what I call “frenzy hiding,” placing one whenever and wherever they feel like, as a rabbit would leave droppings. Whenever I see something like this, I groan. Hiding a cache should take some work: the last thing you do is get out to what you think is a good hiding area, take a waypoint, drop your cache as you would flicking a cigarette butt out the window of a speeding car then rush home to post it online.

First, placing a cache is a responsibility. You shouldn’t place a cache that you can’t take care of—there’ve been cases of people hiding caches while on vacation several thousand miles away from where they live. This means that if something happens to the cache, they couldn’t fix it.

Second, there should be a reason for placing a cache. The location could be one: is it a cool place? Something interesting to see? A cool view? Or it could be a spectacular hide, like this one which fits the category of both location and good hide technique.

Third, because the accuracy of GPS receivers vary wildly, it is the responsibility of the cache hider to verify as much as they can that the coordinates they’re posting are very, very close to the real world, actual location. The few times I’ve hidden a cache, I make absolutely certain that the coordinates are spot-on by taking several waypoints of the spot then, using Google Maps, confirming the location exactly.

In the one case where I knew I would be placing a cache without a clear view of the sky, I put in a hint that actually would help a cacher find the damn thing without requiring they “trade a DNF (Did Not Find)” for additional hints.

Fourth—and this one is a corollary of the third—give the cache finder a reasonable amount of privacy so they can find the cache and log it without arousing too much suspicion. This should be the case 90% of the time. There are those cache hides that are hidden in full view of a lot of traffic and the excitement of finding such a cache in as secretive a way as possible makes the finder bristle with the excitement of a “James Bond”. Fine. But first, describe this cache as such. Secondly, camouflage this type of cache very well. Thirdly, make it easy to get so the finder doesn’t have to perform calisthenics to find it, thus arousing suspicion!

One of the dumbest cache hides I’ve seen so far is this one in the parking lot of a supermarket. The location was ho-hum—I mean, it’s the parking lot of a supermarket! The only thing going for this cache was the unencumbered view of the sats. In other to get this cache, I had to prostrate myself full-length and then feel for the cache in full view of all the shoppers. At the very least, you’re definitely going to stand out to even the most unsuspecting passerby, which means the cache is going to be stolen or trashed (“muggled,” in the parlance) soon.

Well, that’s my rant about caching. Despite these few hiccups, It’s a lot of fun and you should definitely try it. Geocaching has taken me to some incredible places (no, not the parking lot of a supermarket!) that I’d otherwise never get to. Don’t forget caching is also as close to actual exercise us geeks get!