Caching In Read Online Free Page B
Author: Tracy Krimmer
didn’t find this one, I’d give up and find a new hobby.
Following the compass on my phone, I made my way toward the garden. Set behind lannon stone, flowers began to bloom, their buds opening, petals expanding from every which way. A small metal fence surrounded the bed, and a stone path led to a white decorative swing.
Enough admiring the beauty of the mansion, I came to find a cache. Based on the coordinates, a mere five feet separated us. I stepped to the left, putting me out of range, somehow. I recalled the website stating a small margin of error existed in the app, the reason many preferred an actual GPS compass. This new to the game, I didn’t want to invest in one. I went back to the right, and another step, putting myself back within range. The cache should be set between the stones somewhere. I set my phone on the rock and let my knees hit the ground. My upper thighs killed me, and now my kneecaps were probably going to be shit, too. I didn’t think geocaching would be such a physical hobby. I stuck my hand in every single opening in the rock. “Shit!” I swiped a spider off my hand and kept looking.
No use. Could it be under a stone? If I moved one, was I damaging property? I moved my phone to the next stone and tried to lift the rock to no avail. Screw this. I pressed for another hint. “Behind.” What did that mean? Behind what? I leaned over the stone into the garden. Searching the property was an awkward experience already. Anyone watching me must have thought I was attempting to steal something. I ran my fingers across the back of the rock, coming up empty.
“Find what you’re looking for?” A man approached me from behind. Dark hair, shorter on the sides, but heavier on top, surrounded his deep set eyes. Muscles ripped through his black tee-shirt, the fabric smooth as it tucked into his jeans, and I noticed the belt buckle right away. Close your mouth, Ally .
“Um,” I stuttered. “I’m just …”
A grin filled his face, while embarrassment filled mine. “Geocaching. I know. People are here all the time. At least once a week.”
While once a week didn’t meet the requirements of all the time as this man claimed, it was more than I thought. The website explained the geocache bug infected millions of people, but I didn’t really believe it. So far, geocaching proved to be the most frustrating hobby ever. And I used to make jewelry, out of tiny beads, requiring my hands to stay perfectly still and fit thin string through small holes.
“First time?” He asked.
“Pretty obvious, huh?” My deer in headlights face gave me away, as I fondled the stone, surely looking like a complete and utter idiot.
“Muggles always struggle. The veteran ones find it in almost seconds.” He hoisted the box he held against his hip to get a better grip.
Ah, so a muggle was a new geocacher. I re-examined the area, trying to figure out how someone could find a cache so quickly. The whole day could pass and I’d probably still be here searching for this damn thing. “I have no clue where I’m supposed to find this. I didn't find anything at the park, and I'm positive I came off as some sort of pervert as I combed the playground filled with kids.” I lifted up my phone and showed the display to him, even though the one I described wasn’t the one showing anymore. “That cache was listed easier than this one and I couldn't even pull it off. It’s my first day doing this, and I’m coming up empty.”
His eyes widened. “First day?” He set the box down and I watched as his hands smoothed down his shirt in slow motion. Oh, man, this guy was hot. “Let me help you. I’m Seth Hayes.” He reached his hand out for me to shake.
“Ally Couper, Geocaching Virgin,” I titled myself. Thankfully, he smiled. “Now, where is this thing supposed to be?”
“Hey, I said I’d help you. I’m not going to arbitrarily give up the location. What’s the fun in that?”
The fun would be I find what
Following the compass on my phone, I made my way toward the garden. Set behind lannon stone, flowers began to bloom, their buds opening, petals expanding from every which way. A small metal fence surrounded the bed, and a stone path led to a white decorative swing.
Enough admiring the beauty of the mansion, I came to find a cache. Based on the coordinates, a mere five feet separated us. I stepped to the left, putting me out of range, somehow. I recalled the website stating a small margin of error existed in the app, the reason many preferred an actual GPS compass. This new to the game, I didn’t want to invest in one. I went back to the right, and another step, putting myself back within range. The cache should be set between the stones somewhere. I set my phone on the rock and let my knees hit the ground. My upper thighs killed me, and now my kneecaps were probably going to be shit, too. I didn’t think geocaching would be such a physical hobby. I stuck my hand in every single opening in the rock. “Shit!” I swiped a spider off my hand and kept looking.
No use. Could it be under a stone? If I moved one, was I damaging property? I moved my phone to the next stone and tried to lift the rock to no avail. Screw this. I pressed for another hint. “Behind.” What did that mean? Behind what? I leaned over the stone into the garden. Searching the property was an awkward experience already. Anyone watching me must have thought I was attempting to steal something. I ran my fingers across the back of the rock, coming up empty.
“Find what you’re looking for?” A man approached me from behind. Dark hair, shorter on the sides, but heavier on top, surrounded his deep set eyes. Muscles ripped through his black tee-shirt, the fabric smooth as it tucked into his jeans, and I noticed the belt buckle right away. Close your mouth, Ally .
“Um,” I stuttered. “I’m just …”
A grin filled his face, while embarrassment filled mine. “Geocaching. I know. People are here all the time. At least once a week.”
While once a week didn’t meet the requirements of all the time as this man claimed, it was more than I thought. The website explained the geocache bug infected millions of people, but I didn’t really believe it. So far, geocaching proved to be the most frustrating hobby ever. And I used to make jewelry, out of tiny beads, requiring my hands to stay perfectly still and fit thin string through small holes.
“First time?” He asked.
“Pretty obvious, huh?” My deer in headlights face gave me away, as I fondled the stone, surely looking like a complete and utter idiot.
“Muggles always struggle. The veteran ones find it in almost seconds.” He hoisted the box he held against his hip to get a better grip.
Ah, so a muggle was a new geocacher. I re-examined the area, trying to figure out how someone could find a cache so quickly. The whole day could pass and I’d probably still be here searching for this damn thing. “I have no clue where I’m supposed to find this. I didn't find anything at the park, and I'm positive I came off as some sort of pervert as I combed the playground filled with kids.” I lifted up my phone and showed the display to him, even though the one I described wasn’t the one showing anymore. “That cache was listed easier than this one and I couldn't even pull it off. It’s my first day doing this, and I’m coming up empty.”
His eyes widened. “First day?” He set the box down and I watched as his hands smoothed down his shirt in slow motion. Oh, man, this guy was hot. “Let me help you. I’m Seth Hayes.” He reached his hand out for me to shake.
“Ally Couper, Geocaching Virgin,” I titled myself. Thankfully, he smiled. “Now, where is this thing supposed to be?”
“Hey, I said I’d help you. I’m not going to arbitrarily give up the location. What’s the fun in that?”
The fun would be I find what