Geocaching is one of those things I vaguely knew existed, like nose flutes or Lithuania. It’s effectively a global treasure hunt, making use of GPS and smartphone technology to help players discover ‘caches’ hidden by other participants. Cool idea but not something I ever thought I’d get involved in.
Well, things change, because this morning I discovered my first geocache.
I’m not sure why I’m suddenly a convert. Maybe it’s because I thought all the caches would be hidden in the Grand Canyon, not somewhere I could actually get to. On a whim I downloaded the app anyway after seeing a throwaway reference on a blog somewhere, and I was surprised to see that caches were hidden less than a kilometre from where I was sitting. Suddenly this was looking interesting.
So anyway, this morning I’m on my commute and I have to stop off in Walsall to buy a birthday card. And my phone buzzes, telling me there’s a cache nearby. I start walking, following the directions on my phone and, after a bit of searching, there it was. I add my name to the list of those who’ve gone before me and, as I replace the cache and hope the retail park security guards don’t think I’m a terrorist, I realise I have a new hobby.
So, if you see me stumbling through woods or looking furtive in car parks, don’t worry. I’m not a deviant.
I’m a hunter!