The last stop on our trip was one that very nearly didn't make it onto the schedule. We were not sure that George's fourth week of leave would be approved or not (thanks, Mike!) until June. That said, we also were not sure if we would be road weary and just sick of traveling and want to cut it off and head for home.
George's plan was for us to drive as close as we were able to the Fulton County Fairgrounds in Ohio and then make camp for the night where ever (on Wednesday 07/25/12). This turned out to be the parking lot of the WalMart SuperCenter in Bryan, Ohio. Oh. My. God. Never. Again.
George was so completely excited about getting a campground night for free by sleeping in the WalMart parking lot. Before we left, he had been all over the internet researching about people who do this and how it works. He kept assuring me it would be ok. I figured we could try it once and then in the morning I could just sit and look at him with my steady, even gaze until he broke and would swear through tears never to make us do it again and would buy me a Ferrari as a sorry present. THAT didn't exactly happen, but it wasn't pretty. Here is what went wrong:
Good: We parked near the side of the parking lot.
Bad: Right where people enter.
Good: There were 2 other campers in the lot.
Bad: I think those people LIVE there full time.
Good: We went to the bathroom before tucking in for the night.
Bad: George has a bladder the size of a walnut and had to pee 30 minutes later.
Good: We parked at the back of the lot so we wouldn't be in the way of customers.
Bad: We had to walk all the way across the lot so George could pee again.
Good: There was an ok breeze and the night time temp was not too high.
Bad: We were sleeping over top of asphalt and roasted all night like two Costco turkeys in an oven.
Good: The night was free.
Bad: You pay for what you get.
So, he has agreed that perhaps it was not a great idea and we will not try it again. I did at least concede that there are WalMarts everywhere, so it is always an option in an emergency. Please note, dear friend, that said emergency will be I am dead and George will be by himself at the SuperCenter.
So, we made it to the GeoBash, bought a t-shirt and headed out to cache. We had a pretty good day and found quite a few hides. We know the area a little bit because we were here as part of the Anniversary Trip - Whirlpool Jet Boat - Niagara Falls trip from three years ago. The coffee place we liked, Red Rambler, is still doing well. While there this time, we have two new favorites: The Batter Market and Tiny's Dairy Barn, both of which we came across while on this year's Poker Run. We also ran into Danny and Danielle, friends from back home who were in the area for the 'Bash as well.
We found some nicely done caches, but the thing we like most about caching out here in the mid-west is the lack of heavy traffic. I can drive down a road for ten miles, stopping every 5oo-ish feet for a cache and I will never see another car. Paradise. This year's theme for the 'Bash was Halloween in July. Many people decorated their tents and RVs and wore costumes.
Typically, George and I do not spend a lot of time chatting other cachers up. We seem to be "oddball magnets" and geocaching conventions are NOT good places to find "normal" people. We admit that we are also odd in our own way, but you get the whole spectrum of humanity at these things and it seems like the ones who are the oddest of all are the ones who want to be with us the most. I've written about this before... Usually, we cut a conversation short and hightail it for the hills. But there was one MWGB meeting that I PURSUED. That's right, I went after them. Poor George.
It started with me being seriously deprived of fur. In the evenings, we might walk Sutter or play ball with him. I also sing original songs to my cats about them. (Yup, I do -- don't judge me!) I carry the girls around, pet them, brush them and shower them with hugs and kisses. As a result, I have got two sweet, intelligent, people-oriented cats (an oxymoron in itself). All of this activity has one thing in common: fur.
So after 2 days on the trip, I started looking for things to pet. At Prairie Homestead National Monument in South Dakota, I tried to pet the goat and it butted me, hard. Yellowstone was difficult, because there was lots of fur, but none for petting. Some wack-o was even sitting on the patio near canyon lodge with his pet DUCK in a baby carriage and I petted that too. Look, people, I was desperate.
OK, back to the GeoBash... We were walking back to our camp spot when I spotted the most gorgeous dog. I could not tell if it was an akita or a german shepherd or a mix... George saw it too and breathed out, "oh wow look at that dog," in one breath. The owners were sitting in their lawn chairs outside of their camper and I called out asking if we could pet the dog and say hi. THIS was my mistake. They invited us over. We petted their beautiful pet and learned her name was Shasta. And that she is not a dog. She is a timber wolf. Ummm... that's nice! Inside I was wondering if the event organizers had insurance for exotic pets in the campground. Oh, dear Lord! But she really was extremely mellow and chill and they had totally trained her.
So, they let me put her through her tricks and reward her with Bacon Strips (dog treat kind) and I prayed that after I was out of treats her wild side would not kick in and she would eat me. I was surprised when she gave me her paw for the "shake" command. She was very strong, much stronger than any other canid I have met before. Her nails were long and they were big and sharp, which scared me. Her tongue licking the bacon remnants on my hand was not soft like Sutter's but had a rougher surface like the cats' tongues have. Her coat was luxurious and at one point, I was teary because her fur felt just like the wolf pelts that we had felt in Browning, Montana, at Indian Days. It was a great experience and the cachers seemed pretty nice; petting Shasta was a very neat way to end our time at the GeoBash.
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