5527117 Although it is not a requirement to log the cache, I have a request of the finders. There is a curious structure nearby to the cache location. I would like to see some creative descriptions as to the original use or history of this structure. The more ridiculous the explanation, the better. Release your inner pathalogical liar. I am supplying you with unlimited yarn. Start spinning!
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8/24/2008 by Kabuthunk
WOW! Sorry about the late posting and whatnot... it looks like I accidentally logged the wrong cache online back in August. So now, I'm correcting that by re-posting the log here. It'll at least make more sense posted to this one.
Anyway, I had solved this puzzle a few weeks ago, but had never gotten the chance to head out to make the find.
So my friend Justin and I had planned to head out on a bike ride to the cache. Once we got over the bridge, there was a few moments of indecision where we weren't sure which side of a fence to go on. In my infinite wisdom, I figured we should try on the 'grassy' side first, alongside the road. Yeah, that turned out to be a bad idea for a few different reasons.
About 20 seconds into the ride, I had quite the... umm... experience. We weren't biking particularly slowly... going at a fairly good clip. Suddenly, the front tire of my bike drops drastically, and the bike comes to a very sudden, very instantaneous stop. However, as dictated by our good old friend Newton, an object in motion will stay in motion. Hence, my body decided to keep moving forwards at the fairly decent speed while my bike was firmly lodged in place. I can't say I have managed to catapault from a bicycle all that often, but this was one of the rare few times in which I was thoroughly launched from it. My bike predictably came to a rest on it's side, while I eventually came to a rest about 6 feet from it, firmly planted onto the ground. I bounced a bit, but nothing broke, and I only felt the general soreness of... y'know... going ass-over-teakettle. I was actually more worried about my bike than myself. It turns out there's a big, deep hole in the grass there, with the grass inside growing out and camouflaging it. If anyone decides to bike along here, watch yourself.
Dusting myself off, we ended up concluding we DIDN'T need to go that way, and had to double-back onto the path on the OTHER side of the fence . Doubling back, we soon hit the coordinates, and soon found the cache. Nice hide! Not where I was expecting it to be . Really fun puzzle and cache !
When I got to my bike again, I crouched down to put all my geocaching stuff back in my backpack. Then I noticed my foot. That appeared to have a portion of it both red, wet, and sticky. Taking my sandal off, I discovered that it was VERY wet and red. As in "holy crap, did I nick a vein" wet . Luckly, after rinsing it in water, it ended up not being too bad. Thanks to my good old geocaching bag, I had a medical kit in there and doctored myself up.
As an added bonus, West of cache we saw a wooden kinda trial ramp thing built on the trails in the bushes! I had a few runs over it, almost plunging off the bike again, and we continued onwards. Definitely something to be coming back for sometime .
So all in all, it was quite an interesting cache. A little pain on one side, a find, and some fun riding over the trial-trail, or whatever those wooden things are called .
And on the note of the curious structure, CLEARLY that was the original home of Cedric the Hermit, who lived there from 1923 to 1947. He left only after being evicted by the city, which had found that the walls contained traces of platinum, which was unknowingly in the ore used to create the walls. That's the entire reason that half of the building seems to be torn down. Unfortunately, the city later discovered that the cost of extracting the platinum wasn't worth the volume extracted did it abandon further destruction. Cedric by this time had moved on and lived in Wapiabi Cave near Nordegg, Alberta until the age of 72 when he died of exposure. To this day, the city hasn't removed the remainder of the building as a silent, unmarked reminder of the man who once lived there.
And now you know .
Took: Nothing
Left: Logbook entry and chainmail ball
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