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You're Not A Geocacher Unless...


Jeremy
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You've opened, closed and perhaps owned ammo cans - even if you've never owned a gun.

Actually, river kayakers and river rafters who are out on multi-day trips use ammo cans as makeshift toilets. And, everyone on a river trip tries to avoid sleeping at nite on the "latrine" boat, which contains one or more half-filled ammo cans, which usually kinda stink!

 

eww! I'll stick to swag.

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You're not really a geocacher unless you have at least one piece of rubbermaid in the cupboard that says "official geocaching game piece" on it in sharpie.

Ummm... I think then you are a cache pirate, not a geocacher. You might want to review the guidelines again. :(

Edited by subterranean
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You're not really a geocacher unless you have at least one piece of rubbermaid in the cupboard that says "official geocaching game piece" on it in sharpie.

 

Yuck! You put it back in the cupboard? ;)

Probably caught by the wife before he could get it out of the house. :(:(:(

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....the back of your Jeep starts looking like this (actual picture taken 6/6/2006 - not a prop - tends to always look like this) - (love the orange ammo can eh?)

<snip>

 

that pic reminds me of the back of one of the local's vehicles here. He's a big bug mover and he has this huge freaking tupperware tub in the back of one of his Jeeps just for TB's and it's almost always full :(

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Well, Jeremy’s question appears -- to the untrained eye and the impatient and ever-restless mind -- to be simple on the surface, but yet in reality it is fraught with deep meaning, and any serious and sincere response consonant with integrity and with full immersion in the relativistic amanuensis, as, of course, as it bisects the muse, must emerge forth organically from the psyche and the soul, modulated by the heart, will demand a soulful memory-tolerance of anamnesis, indeed, it will require a deftly-guided extended meditation on focus, style, remembrance, soul-mission, time, and technology, yielding a rich and organic and nearly orgasmic but yet stable and remarkable and yet dynamic fruition of the dialectic. Indeed, any serious discourse would almost unerringly read much like the musings of Jacques Derrida in his classic work Archive Fever 10, and yet must deftly wend through at decontextualized archetypal but post-colonial B) immersive protocol, yielding perhaps, nay, surely, an immersive stance, one which does not neglect Mogenson's archetypal psychology, else the discourse become moribund and even fecund.

 

And so, allow me to make perhaps a feeble effort at answering this seemingly solid and sound but truly intangible and apocryphal question, one which I am sure wrenched itself from the heart and soul of its author with an audible rending tear, and to which any serious repartee by any other than a dilettante or a poseur would demand that we would invoke the soulful memory-tolerance of anamnesis, suppression into unspeakables and hyponmesis, the latter of which I posit is only possible within a theology of absolute-others and in the sublime and yet at-times horrific company of technology, much as referenced by Derrida in Archive Fever 9 Further, any such serious endeavor will suggest that an immersive, rather than controlled, dialectic may well be an inherently self-negating anti-structure of psychological experience, dialogical rather than dialectical, that avoids domestication of otherness, moves through tragic incommensurability and, most importantly, allows moments of embodied convergence between the decontextual/ahistorical and the contextual/post-colonial venue.

 

And so, proceeding with my inquiry, which is transcendentally and concomitantly a comprehensive cognitive and soulful response to the question posed to our intimate linguistic community by Jeremy about none other than the soul of our passion, the nectar of our addiction, the ripened and lusty frit of our endeavors and yearnings, I am moved to observe that we must of necessity here stray into the realms of archetype and archives, simultaneously treading somewhat lightly and yet with cognizance in the realms of the unconscious, the formative ethos, the etheric influences perhaps best cited by the German mystic Rudolf Steiner and yet not ignored -- nor belittled -- by the theologian Teilhard de Chardin in his musings on Cyberspace and the Dream, all the while under the baleful and knowing gaze of Karl Rahner, who would, of course, realize in an instant that this dialectic imbues and expresses – and also, strangely negates in negative space and Kantian spherical geometrics -- none other than the tension of the foundations of faith squared off :P against the pacification offered by technology, all the while mindful of the decontextual and historical post-colonial dialogical – and yet incommensurable – tragic thesis that the anti-tragic fear of destruction is intrinsically connected with the concept of the archive coupled with the notion of the outside, which, represents – in a limited closed universe and also in Hegellian space -- the demand created by geocaching as it established itself as the archon, the exterior place where the archives need to be placed and conceptualized according to an ineffable and yet inviolable and intrinsic Law. Without this projection of an exterior image, an object, if it were, a cache, so to speak, there would be no archive, and thus there would be no geocache for the geocacher to seek and in intimate linguistic community of geocachers to contextualize the experience and allow projection beyond self-negating anti-structure onto the broader canvas of experiential and God-driven paradoxical immerssive hyponmesis which is simultaneously dynamic and dymanic, yet strangely manic when considered in the light of the third evolution of the second instance of the fourteenth iteration of benevolent universe hypothesis of the Christian mystic Father Theophane.

 

And so, the above-referenced dialectic neatly leads to the summa of my thesis, namely that there is nothing outside the cache, there is nothing but logging a find or a DNF or a log, preferentially in both the object world and in the projected image world of online community and discourse, wherein we witness the employment and yet the exigesis of writing as supplement and also as a capstone watershed for the soul and psyche in establishing a synthesis based on analysis and on the search, wherein an endless chain of substitutive signification with differential references is nearly and neatly forced, in the psyche of the geocacher in the field, to question the relation of technological tool – namely a GPS receiver -- to the supplement, to this need to fill the void, and so I would like to address the question to our innermost psyche, to our innermost Consciousness, and the answer that shouts forth from the silence and stillness is simply that "Geocaching Is”.

 

And, with that final synthesis and exposition, I must wind my discourse and my reply to a close.

WHOA, That's heavy man! ;):D:DB):P

Yes, I guess it is! However, I have no clue as to what I wrote! As you likely guessed, I wrote it as a spoof. :D:P In this case, I wrote it as a spoof of the way that so many people in "advanced" academic fields tend to write. When I was in grad school, my on-campus job was to review the dissertation papers written by doctoral candidates for scientific soundness and sanity, and I would regularly encounter such gibberish in the papers!... B)B)

Anyway, it was fun writing that essay!

 

You so funny! :D Your college job sounds delightful :(:(:(

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unless...

 

you've waded across the same river at least twice because the cache is only a quarter mile away and you had never been to that park before so you took the straight line instead of the long and winding road that leads to the cache. When you finally get to the cache you remember that this one is an offset and you left the cache page at home, you remeber you have to go 35 paces in some direction from the big rock so you start pacing in all directions before you give up. Then you go home and write a wonderful DNF log and you go back the following Saturday with everything you need and you find the darned cache.

 

And it still brings a smile to your face writing about it here! :(

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Unless you've convinced skeptical friends to come with you on a caching expedition, and then convinced them to take off their sneakers and wade across a creek with you after the sun has set and it's getting darker by the second.

 

Unless you've been stared at in a park somewhere when someone noticed you produce a camo-ed box from nowhere.

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....the back of your Jeep starts looking like this (actual picture taken 6/6/2006 - not a prop - tends to always look like this) - (love the orange ammo can eh?)

 

jeep1.jpg

 

here's mine:

 

7f57565e-2f26-4d29-b93c-5692c9c0d074.jpg

 

and this one on while moving:

 

78f7170c-4d32-484c-840d-47af34401684.jpg

 

I actually stopped 4 times while on a 10 hour moving frive to cache. With all we owned in tow.

 

bc4afc70-fd77-4d38-8909-9be2b215a57c.jpg

 

At an actual cache location. Can you guess what GZ was?

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... you suffer from withdrawal symptoms when the internet is down or geocaching website is down and you can't eat or sleep until you refresh the page and see the website up and running again! :laughing:

 

Geocaching website is still down today... and all we have is this forum!!! * sob * :laughing:

Edited by IndianaJanes
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You're not a geocacher unless........... you go looking for the cache and the waterfalls by which trail? We have a choice? Cool..... The 'cliffside' or the 'lower'? Oh, let's take the CLIFFSIDE trail? Doesn't matter I fell down the steps at work two days before and am sore.... we'll take it anyway..... the GPS cut out halfway thru, we didn't even get to LOOK for the cache but the almost MILE trail was one of the BEST we've ever hiked thru, not to mention toughest ever.... thankfully we had put on our hiking shoes beforehand!

 

Cache ONNNN!!!!!!

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Not a geocacher until,

 

Until that first intrusion forces its way into your senses

Until that first effect, and that first affect

 

When the lure of the elusive beacons you

When the grasp of particial re-enforcement encases your will

 

As the ergency overcomes you

As the monitary becomes inconsequencial to logic

 

Not a geocacher until,

 

Eyes open wide with directed focus

Emotion overwhelms and witholds breath

Adrenalin flows as in the young

And defeat evolves determination

 

You are indeed not a geocacher until,

 

That first find

Then you are...

... forever

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