Transcript x - Tamaqua Area School District

a Photographic story of the search for hidden treasure
geo? …like in the words: geography, geology,
geometry, geocentric, geode, geopolitics
It means “earth.”
caching? …like in the word: cache
It means “a place to hide something.”
geo? …like in the words: geography, geology,
geometry, geocentric, geode, geopolitics
It means “earth.”
caching? …like in the word: cache
It means “a place to hide something.”
geo? …like in the words: geography, geology,
geometry, geocentric, geode, geopolitics
It means “earth.”
caching? …like in the word: cache
It means “a place to hide something.”
Click on this triangle
to go to the next slide
Hi there. I am a GPS-receiver. Global Positioning System.
Think Earth. Think treasure hunting. Think satellites that
orbit. Think silent signals that tell where you are and
where you would like to go. Think map.
Garmin made me. I am the elite tool of the trade, used
by geocachers worldwide.
I am soooooo tiny. Itsy-bitsy. Teeny-weenie. Little.
I am a Micro, the smallest of the geocaches out there.
And I am magnetic.
Can you guess where I like to hide?
That is right, over there, on that black metal fence. I am
soooooo difficult to find.
If I was bright and flashy, then strangers would see me
easily and take me away. But, I am not. I am tiny. I am
black. The guy who put me here knew that this would be
an excellent place to hide me.
The tiny log inside of me must be rolled very, very tightly
in order to fit back inside. Put me back where I was so
that someone else can find me.
Yay! I love being a cache. Come find me.
BIG! So very, very big. And retired. I used to have a job,
holding ammunition for soldiers.
That was my duty and I did it well. I kept it safe. I kept it
dry. But, a few years ago, someone realized that I could
serve another purpose. A fun purpose. Woo-hoo!
Can you see me? I am hidden, out along a trail, back in
the bushes. I hold a log, paper or a notebook, something
to sign your name onto. And, you will find some
surprises within.
I am big enough to hold key chains and wrist bands and
marbles and toy soldiers and CDs and lanyards and gold
(just kidding), stuff that you or your kids might want.
And, I just might have something special, a Travel Bug or
a Geo Coin, little travelers who move from cache to cache
around the world. Come. Find. Trade.
I am here. No one else knows it because I am hidden. I
have a cap, just like all the other poles, but mine isn’t
attached anymore. It is loose. And underneath the cap
you will find me. Waiting.
So many people walk by and don’t have any idea that I
am here. They see a fence and think nothing of it, but
you know. Just reach up and give the cap a twist. Lots of
geocachers use this trick in their hides.
I smile when Muggles walk by and don’t notice my hiding
spot. Muggles, the people who are out walking their dog
or getting some exercise and just don’t know about this
game of hide and seek.
Ha. I am here. Hidden. I have my thinking cap on. Do
you?
A rock? Really? Come on? Who would put a rock on top
of a pole?
I mean, think about it. This isn’t natural. Rocks don’t roll
down a hill and bounce-bounce-bounce, then spring onto
the top of a pole. There should be a round metal cap up
there.
A rock? Ha! It is soooooo obvious. Any experienced
geocacher would know this hide right off the bat. No
confusion. No frustration. Just easy finding, signing, and
moving on to the next hidden cache.
I am heeeeerrrrreeeee. Can you see me? Ignore the
field full of weeds. You don’t need to go in there. I am
not there. I am down here, in the back.
Your GPS led you to this electrical box. High voltage
inside. Green. And me? Green. Round. Magnetic.
Unattach me and pry off my lid. Sign the log. Ignore the
cars as they drive by. Their drivers don’t care what you
are doing.
Look like you belong here, a city worker just doing your
job. Put your cell phone to your ear and pretend that you
are talking to your boss. Carry a clipboard or notebook
and write on it as you search.
Make it look official and no one will bother you.
Guess where I am. Here is a clue: I am not magnetic.
That rules out the metal fence. So, where am I? Where
could I be?
Look around, but be aware that if you are doing this
during the week then this business will be active and
workers inside may wonder what you are doing. They
might come up to you and ask. What would you say?
Would you tell them a lie? Would you walk away scared,
worried that you might be arrested for trespassing?
Relax. Tell them about this game. Show them your GPS
or smart phone app. Invite them to help you find the
cache. Always smile and be ready to share the joy of the
discovery in the game.
And remember, some caches are best sought during the
weekend or after hours. Okay, where am I?
Ha! The geocacher who placed me here was quite
ingenious. They did an incredible job of hiding me. I look
so real, yet I am not. I am fake.
A thousand people a day drive by and never notice me. I
love this game. Come and find me. I eagerly await your
smile when you touch the little button on your phone’s
screen that says Found.
Click. Add a comment about how cute I am, please.
Clickity-click-click. And tell your friends about me.
I am hiiidddiiinnnggg. Come find me. Step-step-step. I
can hear you.
You climb up the stairs and wonder where they lead.
Nowhere. Except to me.
Am I magnetic, tucked into the lower end of the hand rail,
or am I at the top?
Am I behind that concrete wall or in the tall grass?
Am I in the bushes to the side or up the hill?
Am I sitting under a rock or tucked beside a bush?
How will you know? Well, you gotta come and find me.
I am here. Waiting. Hidden.
Where am I?
Maybe I am magnetic, attached to the back of that
electrical box.
Or, maybe I am just on the other side of that cinderblock
wall, covered with rocks.
If you don’t find me there, then maybe I am up the hill.
You might find me at the fence on top, or nestled against
the trunk of a tree, or handing from a branch.
Many have found me so you can too, old and young, fat
and skinny, solo-trekkers and families. They didn’t have
anything special, no scent-trained canine, no supersleuth nephew detective.
They just used their Geo-sense, that ability to find a
geocache based on experience and predictability.
Climb the hill and come look for me. Ignore the
landscaper across the street and the cars as they drive by.
You just might find me before you get too nervous and
scuttle back to your truck and drive away.
You. Can’t. See. Me.
Where am I? Am I in the corner? Am I on the roof? Am I
in the handle? Am I behind the well? Where am I?
Here is a clue: Make a wish.
Ha, you got it now. Grab me, open me, sign my log, and
leave me for someone else to discover.
Maybe, if you wish, leave a coin. Others have. It is
tradition. Have you made a wish lately?
I won’t be easy. I take work. Maybe a tool will be
necessary. Maybe dexterity and flexibility. Come and get
me. I am waiting.
You look into a nearby bush, hoping to find me there. I
am not. That is too easy.
You walk onto the bridge and look down into the dry
creek bed, hoping to see a cache among the rocks and
bushes. Are you kidding? How long would I last down
there?
Seasonal rain would send me far away from here. I am
not a boat.
See the bridge? I am a part of it. That is right. Do you
hope to find me on the ends? Or on a rail? How about
underneath? What if I were hiding there?
Could you get me? Are you strong enough, clever
enough? Come on. This is a challenge.
The local dogs have sighted you and they won’t shut up.
Bark-barkity-bark.
You climb up the hill, closer, closer, yet they keep up their
racket. I can hear them. I hear them every time
someone ventures up this hill to find me.
It doesn’t bother me, but I can see that it bothers you.
You are worried that you will be noticed. Relax. Be calm.
Focus on finding me.
I am here. I am magnetic. I should be easy.
Stop looking toward the dogs. They are just bored.
Focus. Find me.
No, I am not over there. Come back.
Are you going to look and look, and then return to each
spot again just in case you missed it? Can’t you see me?
I am over here. Duh! Take a few steps back and look at
the terrain.
Nice to see you. Fortunately, this lot is empty today. It is
Saturday. Those who work here are somewhere else.
Take your time. I am here.
I see you looking at the sign. Am I behind it or on top?
Take a look.
Maybe I am in the tree? Can you climb?
Or, I could be inside the water maintenance access in the
ground. Watch out for black widows, ants, and wasps.
Maybe I am attached to the side of this light post.
Do you see that square metal at the base of the light
pole? Try sliding it upward. Be aware, metal on metal
makes a loud and annoying screeching sound. You might
invite attention. You also just might find me.
Hee-hee. Have fun.
A rock pile? OMG! There are thousands of rocks. I could
be anywhere.
Maybe a geocacher placed me in a nice little spot that is
easy to see.
Maybe rocks slid and moved with time and rain, and now
I am not so easy to see.
Maybe I am under a little pile of rocks.
Maybe I am under one rock, small enough to lift, yet big
enough to conceal my identity.
Maybe I am lodged inside of a drilled hole, right there in
front of you, but camouflaged, painted the same color as
the gray rocks.
Good luck. Don’t give up. Spend some time looking for
me. I often am disappointed when geocachers walk
away, giving up without really trying.
Try. Change your perspective. Get close. Bend over.
Then step back. Scan the area. Move around. Climb up.
Climb down. Find me, please. I want to be found. That is
my purpose.
I am here.
Try the obvious places first, the easy ones. Then, try the
harder ones.
Climb up on the rocks. Look behind the boulders. Maybe
I am there. Or maybe I am in the fence post. Be careful.
Watch out for snakes and lizards too. This is their home
as much as it is mine. They visit me occasionally, so
watch your step.
Be careful. Use caution when climbing down this hill.
Geocaching is fun, but I really don’t want to see you
injure yourself. This game is a treasure hunt, not a trip to
the hospital.
Don’t stand up there on the trail expecting to see me.
Come down here and look around. Get a different
perspective. You will find me. I am obvious. Bright
green.
I could be hidden on a branch of one of those trees, but I
am not there.
I should be brown, like the dirt and rocks. Do you see me
now?
Are you starting to understand that geocachers follow
patterns too?
If you are on a trail and find one cache in a fence post,
well, you are going to find others too.
If you find little rock piles for one, expect to find more.
And, if you find one cache tucked inside a square-drilled
nook, then expect to find more.
Geocaching. It is a game. Learn it. Enjoy it. Share your
joy with others.
Heeellloooooooo. Can you hear me? Can you see me?
Hee-hee.
I notice that you looked up when you arrived at this Geozone. Do you expect to find me in one of those fence
posts, up there? They are eight feet tall.
Oh, now you are looking for rock piles around the base of
each pole. No luck?
Well, maybe I am under that slide, back there. No? You
can’t find me? Well, I am here. Guess where? Hmmmm.
Have you figured it out yet?
There is another place you haven’t explored. I am there.
Here. Hee-hee. Heeellloooooooo.
Ah, another seeker. I see you. Your feet make their way
to me. Step, step, step. Then you stop and look. I am
here. Can you find me.
I notice that you are carrying a notebook and a pen. Are
you pretending to be an inspector? A worker? Ha, well,
it is working. You look official. Now, if you can just find
me. It should be easy.
I will give you ten seconds. That is all it should take. One.
Two. Three. No, I am not over there. Four. Five. Not
inside there. Duh! Six. Seven. Eight. Hey, can’t you see
me. You are squatting, looking up. Nine.
Congratulations! You found me. Good job. Sign the log
and get out of here before someone comes out of the
store and starts asking you questions, Mr. Inspector Guy.
I know. I see him, the guy in the truck, sitting there,
twenty feet away. Ignore him. Act like you know what
you are doing.
Whoa! You found me, in what, two seconds. You are
pretty good. How did you know I was here? Oh,
experience.
Well, I have been here for a few years and no city worker
has found me yet. You did, quickly. But, can you get me
out? I am wedged in here.
Nice, you are using a stick to pry me out. That will work. I
have pretty strong magnets that hold me firm.
Hey, that tickles. Stop that.
Park wherever you want. No one will care. Sure, cars
pass every twenty seconds or so, but they are on their
way somewhere. They don’t really care what you are
doing here. I do. I want to be found.
Can you guess where I am? I could be under a rock, or
behind the reflector, or in the handle, or attached to a
hole, or in the hinge, or under the outer casing.
Where do you think I am?
If you were the guy hiding this geocache, then where
would you hide me? That is the secret to finding caches.
Ask yourself that question, and then go look there.
I am soooooo obvious. Easy to find. Geocachers always
find me. No one marks me DNF. Did Not Find. I am easy,
another cache to add to the numbers.
Yet I wonder about all those people who drive by and
never realize that I am here, just on the other side of the
guardrail.
I sit, waiting, days at a time, weeks, with thousands of
cars zooming by, yet they don’t even know that I am here.
They are oblivious to my existence.
I smile, because that is a good thing. Geocachers, lots
and lots. Muggles, zero.
Just hanging around.
That is me, easy to see when you are up close, but not so
easy from the trail.
Yesterday, dozens of walkers strolled right on by me, eyes
downcast at the dirt while talking to a friend, getting
their exercise but unaware that I hang here just a few
feet away.
I shrug it off because I don’t mind not being noticed by
them. It is your attention that I want to get. You, the
geocacher.
I am not hidden too well. I am easy to see.
B. I. G.
Green among a lot of brown trunks.
But only geocachers know that I am here. I am off the
trail, about fifty steps.
I wonder about the people in the houses below and
whether they ever look up here and see me? Do they
notice the seekers and wonder what they are doing on
this hill?
I don’t know, but that is not my problem. I focus on
standing upright when the winds blow. I try not to roll
down the hill when the rain comes.
I wait, for you.
You see me, but you don’t really see me. I am naturally
camouflaged.
Think peanut butter plastic jar. Yep, that is what I used to
be.
Now, I hold little items for trade, and a pen, and a log.
You won’t find Peter Pan on my outside. Or Jiffy. There is
no smooth or crunchy label to let you know my contents.
I have a new coat, rough, but appropriate for the
environment, one that isn’t designed to keep me warm or
dry, but to make me feel at home next to this tree.
Can you see me?
Don’t go barking up the wrong tree in your pursuit.
Hee-hee. Me-so-punny.
Okay. You have arrived. Don’t move. Just look. Where
am I? It should be obvious. Look for a non-natural thing.
Ignore the trash, for the wind blew that here.
Ignore the carnage on the other side of the fence, for I
am not over there.
Rocks don’t magically pile themselves up in one spot.
Someone must have piled them there to hide something.
Hmmmm. I wonder what that something could be.
Yes, sometimes, it is that easy.
We are the caches that you seek. Some of us are made
of plastic and others are of metal. Some are green, some
are black, and others are transparent.
We are the most common sizes that you will find,
small.
We can be found next to a road or beside a trail or
against a fence.
Often our tops are twist-on.
If you find us, be sure you leave us as you found us,
hidden and sealed.
If you place us down sideways, then we might soak up
the rainwater and ruin the log inside.
Finding us is your goal, but leaving us safe and hidden is
courteous for the next geocacher.
Some geocachers use glue to attach magnets to us.
You will find us on light poles and electrical boxes all over
your city, especially in the warehouse district.
Other geocachers buy cookie tins at WalMart or the
Dollar Store.
We can be hidden almost anywhere, as long as you
provide us a little help, a rock, a branch, something.
Some geocachers buy large containers and hide us along
trails, ones for walkers or bikes, horses or jeeps.
Look for us under bushes and trees, resting beneath
boughs or branches. We are there.
And we often hold SWAG, stuff we all get, loot or booty,
tradables. Bring something with you to trade, something
that says you.
Other geocachers hide us in places you might not expect,
like a drain. They travel with supplies, string and tape,
and leave us hanging.
It is okay. We don’t mind being hung out to dry, even in a
storm drain. In fact, we like it.
And sometimes you can find more than what you bargained
for, as you see something that looks alive, at first noticing
the eyes, then the head, then the body, and before your
brain can identify the mass as a harmless stuffed animal…
You. See. A. Lion.
Your heart races as adrenaline is pumped into the
bloodstream. There is no fight or flight. There is only
flight.
And, later, when logging this find on your GPS or smart
phone, you notice the title of the cache and smile. Very
clever.
TFTC. Thanks For The Cache.
TFTH. Thanks For The Hide.
TNLN. Took Nothing, Left Nothing.
And on to the next cache you go, a smile on your face and
happiness in your step. You are a geocacher.