In the world of geocaching, there’s a fun activity that involves the use of what’s called Travel Bugs. Basically, Travel Bugs are items of virtually any nature small enough to fit inside a geocache, with a unique tag attached to each one. These tags are shaped like dog tags, and have tracking numbers that can be used to log a retrieval or a drop-off of a Travel Bug, or just to prove you discovered one. Each bug has their own profile page where you can track their progress online and learn about what its mission/objective is. Some bugs have a goal of traveling to specific locations, while others have no specific objective in mind except to move from cache to cache.

To join in on the fun, I decided to release two Travel Bugs of my own last year. I went to a Walmart and found one of those split heart necklaces (those sappy necklaces where two lovers wear one half of a heart each,) then bought two tracking tags off Geocaching.com so I could release them separately into the wild. I released the first half of the necklaces in Boston near the sight of the famous Boston Tea Party, then the second half at a geocache in Central Park, Manhattan on Valentine’s Day. The goal I set was that these two necklaces (now Travel Bugs) would someday be brought together by a geocacher. Whoever accomplished the task could then keep both necklaces.

I know, silly right? I was feeling particularly sappy and stupid when I came up with this idea, but I figured why not. It’s been over a year now and both Travel Bugs have already traveled over 1,500 miles since their release.

Guess where they are now?

The first half is in AUSTIN, TEXAS, specifically in the hands of a pastor, who is planning to hand it off either to me or a nearby geocache once I arrive. The second half is in DALLAS, the very same city I’ll be visiting shortly after Austin.

What are the odds that the very same Travel Bugs would be in exactly the right cities, at exactly the right time when I’d visit, over a year and several thousand miles of journeying later?? It’s nearly unfathomable.

I used to daydream that I would someday go out and retrieve these bugs on my own, and in the course of doing so I would meet the girl of my dreams, who would also happen to be looking to unite the Travel Bugs as well. Two hearts, at long last united through geocaching, after a lifetime of looking. Sigh… if only.

It’s a silly and stupid dream, and I know it won’t come to pass. Sometimes a coincidence is just a coincidence after all, although in my case, they’ve become more like instruments of torture. Just fate continually playing cruel jokes on me, to the point that I’ve lost all belief in the idea of there being soulmates, that the universe wasn’t random and senseless, and that there really WAS a purpose to all the events I’ve experienced in my lifetime. Nope. Life is random, cold, cruel, vacuous and utterly meaningless.

… Isn’t it?

Still, for them to be so close by, at just the right time in just the right places, it behooves me to resist going after these two hearts while I’m down there in in the Lone Star State. Maybe there’s a reason for it, and maybe not, but either way, I’ll have a story to tell.

Spent another afternoon of wandering about, beginning at a mausoleum and ending at one of my favorite supermarkets so I could grab up some TV dinners. Ah the single’s life.

One of the places I stopped at was a newly renovated playground so I could hunt for a micro-sized geocache. I quickly found the cache, then sat down to rest for a few minutes. I noticed one black woman was nearby but I assumed she was just passing through. Although I was beginning to get a bad feeling, and sure enough:

“Hi, mister, what are you doing?”

“Ummm, nothing much, just taking a walk around.”

“Are you waiting for someone?”

“Me? Nah.”

I made a show of working on my iPod, hoping she would soon go away.

“You look lonely, would you like some company?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine really.” I took out my water bottle and took a few swipes.

“It’s ok if you’re lonely, if you want we can come back to my place and I’ll take good care of you.”

I almost spit out my drink.

“…um, no that’s ok, I’m fine, really.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m definitely sure, thanks though.”

“Ok, if you ever change your mind, I’ll be around sweetie.”

“Um, thanks, have a nice day.”

“Bye!”

She slowly walked away, and I made a show of using my iPod like it was a cell phone, all while keeping an eye out for her until she was really gone. Then I raced back to my car and hauled out of there faster than a bullet train leaves Tokyo.

Children’s playground too. Really?

Seriously dudes, just because I’m by myself in a park does not mean I’m lonely… ok it does, but that’s not the point. One of the reasons I like geocaching is because it’s one of the few activities you can enjoy on your own, unlike say, tennis. There are so many activities that are designed with more than one person in mind that it’s nice to finally have a hobby such as this one that doesn’t require me to have a social life before I can begin to enjoy it.

That’s why encounters like these annoy me. I’m getting accosted (twice in one week now!) because I’m a young dude who’s always by himself, so somehow I must fit the profile. A single who’s always getting a table for one, who’s always by himself, who never has anyone to keep him company becomes a target, if not for this then probably for worst things (much easier to mug one person than it is a group.) This world does seem to try awfully hard to make it feel like there’s something wrong with me for always being alone. But that’s who I am. I’m not a social butterfly. I don’t make friends, I make enemies, but I’m perfectly fine with that. It’s the hand that I’ve been dealt with and I learned to live with it.

That said, I think I’m gonna need a dog though. A mean, vicious looking dog. And a shotgun.

Last weekend I decided to do some random geocaching, and opted to cruise out east on Long Island rather then spend 4 hours to drive 2 miles in Brooklyn.

I have to tell you though, people around here have this weird tendency to give me the most disturbing stares. I don’t mean mere glances either, I mean stone cold, “I Want to Murder You DEAD Because You Dared to Pollute My Life With Your Existence” kind of stares. Everywhere I went, I got this evil look, but the best was when I headed into a commuter parking lot off the expressway to find a micro sized geocache, and before I can find a space, this guy literally drives around my car, gawking at me the whole time. Full circle too. Eventually he drove off, but it took me a moment to try to comprehend what the flip happened before I finally recovered and pulled into a space. Thankfully, the geocache was an uneventful find from there.

Next up was a fake rock cache near the entrance of a preserve. This clearly had a spot to park too, but it didn’t matter. As soon as I got out, cars would literally slow down so people would stare at me, and then slowly drive off again. You could almost hear the ominous Twilight Zone music in the background playing while all this craziness was going down. I mean seriously, am I wearing a clown suit? What is this crap?

I wish I could say this was just one of those unusual circumstances, but it seems to happen every time I come out here. I do my best to ignore it, but you always get this feeling that wherever you go, your presence is unwelcome and unwanted. Oy. It really does take the fun out of geocaching given all the hostility around me. And even if I didn’t see it, I could sure FEEL it.

Still, I pressed on. For one of my last geocaches I headed out to Centerport, especially since I learned there was a nearby joint called THE SHACK that reportedly offered tasty “boigas” (I say boigas instead of burgers, it just sounds like a funsier way of saying my second favorite word. ) I had a hankering for a boiga too, if for no other reason than to have an excuse to quote Samuel Jackson: “Mmmmmm, this IS a tasty burger!” Yeah, I’m weird like that.

Before going full on Pulp Fiction though, it was off to find the geocache hidden at yet another one of the nearby preserves. I parked, then went in and began a nice walk into the woods. There was hardly anyone around, and I was finally starting to feel more at ease after the Children of the Corn experiences I’ve having earlier.

And yet, almost as if to add to the ongoing Twilight Zone theme today, I came across a field of… cacti. Seriously. Full blown cactus plants, growing in the wilderness… on LONG ISLAND??

Arizona, eat your heart out.

By this time the geocache was now behind me, so I doubled back after taking pictures of the cacti and got onto another trail, where I eventually came upon the ruins of an old boat surrounded by a thick vegetation of poison ivy, poison ivy, and ooh lookie here, MORE poison ivy! Somewhere in all that thickness, a geocache was waiting to be found.

By the way, all that green? Poison Ivy.

Gads.

By this time the humidity was really starting to get to me, so after a careful (but frustrating and curse filled) search around the PI, I opted to say frick it, and leave. Still, I hate to leave a geocache unfound, so I decided on a hunch to give it ONE more try, and lo and behold, there it was. Who’s awesome? I’m awesome.

Arrrrrr! This geocache be mine, you scurvy dawgs! Arrrrrrr!

With another cache in the find column, it was time to celebrate with a tasty boiga! I got out of the preserve and headed down the street to THE SHACK.

And of course, the stares again.

I should have aimed the camera at these morons just to show my readers here I’m not imagining this, but when one gives you an icy cold homicidal stare-down, it’s probably best not to provoke them any more than necessary.

I did like the ambiance of the place though, like a clam bar by the pier (which in actuality was what it was, not a burger joint). It’s only downside was that it was on a major highway rather than by the docks, so it did tend to look awkwardly out of place. Still, something about the ambiance reminded me of Lake George in upstate New York, so I stuck around.

I placed my order with a bored waitress at the window, who took down my order in typical Long Island hospitality. Which is to say, with all the friendliness of a prison guard from Rikers. Sigh.

Too much hostility all around, so I decided to go eat in the car. Eventually they brown bagged the boiga, handed it off to me and I quickly jogged back to my ride, opened it up and…

Dude, seriously, where's the beef?

Are you kidding me? Really? Oh and by the way, that burger cost me $4. FOUR DOLLARS. I knew I should have went to a Five Guys instead.

I admit it, I revved.

To be fair though, this was really a seafood place rather than a burger joint, so I would have to presume their clams, chowdah, fishiesfoods and whatnot would be their speciality, not burgers. Only thing is, I hate seafood. Yeah I know, I’m weird.

Not wanting the evening to be ruined with a substandard boiga, I fired up Yelp on my iPod and found a pizzeria with a good rating just a few blocks down from there, called Timothy’s.

Oooh, and next to a nail salon too! Perfect!

Looking like not much more than a hole in the wall, the pizza dudes though were friendly (heeeeeeeeeey Italians, the only sort that can resist the schizo mania that seems to plague Long Guuuuyland! :-D) I got a slice of a buffalo chicken pizza and… Mmm Mmm MMMMM! Delicious pizza had once again come to the rescue, nicely capping off an otherwise bizarre day of geocaching. It was… divine intervention.

I do think next weekend I’ll avoid the Long Island heebie jeebies and just hang out in Manhattan again. Trust me, even the muggers are friendlier there. Cuz see, when they rob you blind, at least they do it with a smile.