My story of how stubborn we can be in finding a cache...an event cache.
Wow... Where to begin.
We started out the day caching along the way to this event, and planned to come in the afternoon. Well, we got caught up and didn't leave the 75& Immokallee interchange until about 5.
According to Google earth, I should have been able to exit 75 at 29, take that north to a road, which would snake over to Turner River and then to the event.
We drove North until I knew we had gone too far. We pulled over at a gas station and walked in. There were some arab guys around the counter, and we asked them if they knew where the camp ground was. They broke into Arabic amongst themselves, and after several more exchanges, suggest we try the Dirt road down their road near the prison.
I knew this wasn't the right route, so thanked them and walked out to the car. Then an idea hit. I called my brother at home and asked him to Google Earth the road I had looked for. With the coordinategs of that in hand, we headed south. The enterance was hidden by a new bridge project! No wonder we didn't see it! As we drove in, the road diverged into two roads. One was gated and locked with a DNR sign. The other was blocked by a VERY large off-road vehiche being pulled by a white pickup. Both were stopped in the path. We got out of the car amd knocked on the window of the pickup. The guy inside at first didn't answer, but then woke up and tried fiddling with the window buttons, thne turning his engine on and off. He eventually gave up and got out of his car. It was apparent that he was drunk. He looked tired, he was wobbly, and there was a brown paper bag on his seat with a bottle sticking out. We asked him for directions, and got nowhere. His North and South were mixed up, and at times he wanted to call the sheriff. He said he'd go scout our intended path for us, and what could we say but yes? His massive ensemble was much bigger than our minivan. He drives down the road, and a few minutes later comes bacl and tells us that it's blocked.
By now, we've figured out that we're going to have to go South to find this place. I wan to go home at this point, but the rest of the party, out of stubbornness, wants to forge on. WE drive south, over 75, and come upon a Sherriff's car pulling somebody over. We pull up along side his car and ask if he knows where this place is. Thankfully, he was not drunk and spoke English, and was able to get us on our way. We drove and drove until we reached Tamiami, then turned and looked for Turner River. Every road seemed to be it, but we finally found it and, 20 gruling miles later, we found the event. By this time, it was 7:20, and with a 2.5 hour commute ahead of us, we couldn't stay long. We walked in, mewt some people (Nice meeting you Doc Dean and GatorMan!) and signed the log. I really wish there had been some more time for more meeting with people, but the return trip beckoned, and we bid you all farewell and headed back towards Tamiami. WE got back to the interastate, dog tired, and were home by 11:00.