One particular winter day with the snow flying and temps around 20 degrees, my husband and I decided that we we’re going to try geocaching for the first time. We found www.geocaching.com and became registered members in order to find out where we could find caches here at ACE and around the New River Gorge area. After researching about a dozen caches, we threw on more layers, grabbed our Garmin GPS unit, our 3 dogs and we were off. We found our first one quite quickly, the others were found just as quickly.
As the day pressed on, so did the snow – and a lot of it. But by this time we didn’t care. We were so completely addicted, we HAD to find just one more. So, despite the almost blizzard like conditions and our complete lack of common sense, we decided to forge ahead. “It” just happened to be located on Gauley Mountain, one of the highest peaks in the area. We were half up the mountain, a blizzard swirling around us – I started to question my sanity, but there was no turning back – literally. By the time we reached the top of the mountain, it was a complete whiteout, and the drive up had grated our nerves to the breaking-point.
My husband, who had the GPS unit but wasn’t looking at it or the coordinates, proceeds to walk up the mountain. “There’s no way someone would put a cache at the parking lot, it has to be at the very top”, he stated. Of course, I argued, but it was futile. I fell in line behind him and followed him to the top, trudging through two-plus feet, cursing him and this new hobby under my breath.
We FINALLY reached the top, and wouldn’t you know it, the coordinates weren’t even close! We spent an hour and a half on top of that stupid mountain looking for a cache that wasn’t there! Thoughts of murder flashed through my mind, but instead, I grabbed the GPS unit and headed back down the mountain not caring if he was following or not.
As I reached the truck, I noticed the coordinates were very close, so I continued to trudge further DOWN the mountain. The cache was on the side of the road not 30 feet from the truck. I was ecstatic – I found it – One: because I could now rub it in for the rest of his life, and two: I could rub this in for the rest of his life.
Anyway, the moral of this story is that my husband is no longer allowed to use our GPS unit while we’re geocaching.