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Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get me

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??

Cactus Plants in Centerport, 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.

Ruins of old boat containing a geocache

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.

Tracking bug of Pirate near a geocache

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.

The Shack - Clam bar in Centerport, Long Island

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…

Shack Burger from The Shack

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.

No Revving Sign

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.

Timothy's Pizzeria in Centerport

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.

Comments { 3 }

The Promenade

Had to stop at a court in Brooklyn the other day to water board a few terrorists, but once I was done I had some time to canvass the area for a couple of geocaches. That’s when I discovered… THE PROMENADE.

Entrance to Brooklyn Heights Promenade

I would have happened on this place sooner, but for too long I always purposely avoided visiting such scenic places because I didn’t want to enjoy the moment alone. I figured once a sweet girl came along we could then enjoy that moment together, and it would make it all the more special.

But then I finally realized girls are really satanic entities who should be vaporized Ghostbusters-style before they completely destroy the earth with their poisonous estrogen. That’s when I decided, instead of putting my life on hold waiting for some fantasy-type dream girl who only exists in some Fringe-like alternative universe to come along, it’s time I started going out and enjoying life as much as I could as a single instead, albeit one who is blessed not to be tied down with family obligations or money problems.

So I had ice cream. :-D

Promenade view of Brooklyn Bridge

Promenade view of Brooklyn Bridge

The afternoon was too muggy for me to really enjoy the locale, but now I finally know where to go when I want to enjoy an unobstructed view of the Manhattan skyline. The Brooklyn Heights Promenade spans a few blocks and has ample benches for people to sit and view not only downtown Manhattan, but the Brooklyn Bridge and the Statue of Liberty in the distance as well. Because of its immense popularity and proximity to one of the better neighborhoods in Brooklyn, it’s also a pretty safe area to visit, even at night. I plan to return sometime after dark to get landscape shots of the city with my new camera. I can’t wait!

The Brooklyn Heights Promenade

The Brooklyn Heights Promenade stretches over several blocks.

Parking is a crapshoot, but there’s two parking garages nearby that you can stash your car at. They cost a fortune though, but the indoor one located on Caldman Plaza West has an early bird special, where if you arrive between 3AM-10AM, you can keep your car parked there up to 10 hours for $15. I think I’d rather do that then drive around aimlessly waiting for somebody to pull out of a metered spot 10 blocks away from the Promenade.

Interestingly enough, the city is working on building a new park just under the Promenade, called Brooklyn Bridge Park. At the time of this writing though, only Pier 1 is open to the public (the park consists of 6 piers altogether). It’s definitely worth a visit as well.

A bench view of the Brooklyn Heights Promenade

I should have moved that trash can out of the way...


 
Ship sails from South Street Seaport

A ship from the South Street Seaport sails with the Statue of Liberty in the background.

I couldn’t stay long, but I did spend enough time to enjoy the magnificent views, and will definitely be back when the weather is better, even if I won’t have a wubsy woo to share the moment with. Fortunately, that’s where my MacBook will fill the void.

Upside down street sign in Brooklyn

Yep, I'm betting a unionized worker put that one up.

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Going where all the bodies are buried!

After finally wrapping things up at work, I received an email notification of a new geocache that had been hidden near the spot where a dead body had once been uncovered in a murder that took place several years ago.

As the story goes, a female junkie shacked up with a new boyfriend and decided she wanted to stick it to her ex-boyfriend for money or whatnot, so with the help of her new stud muffin and her teenage daughter to boot, she offs the poor guy. The three of them go off to bury the body at a nearby preserve, then return back home to celebrate with milk and cookies (and some blow.)

With all this in mind, did I really want to go sniffing around a preserve in the dead of night, by myself, with nobody around, just to find a geocache stashed near the site of an ancient crime scene where a body was once buried for a potential First-to-Find opportunity?

Why, yes! Yes I did!

After keying in the coordinates, my newly GPS powered iPod faithfully took me as close to the preserve as possible before I would have to hoof the rest of the way on foot. I got out of the car and grabbed my Fenix flashlight, the same kind of flashlight that soldiers stationed in Iraq sometimes used. (Also has a feature to send out an S.O.S. signal, which I’m pretty sure I’ll be using sooner or later.)

I crossed the street and then hopped over the guardrail and into the forest. I was beginning to see why the killers had picked this spot. There was a small opening where you could bushwhack into the preserve without any deal of trouble, which was a welcome sign, especially if you were dragging along a dead ex-boyfriend in a bag. Oh boy, if my mother knew what I was doing right now, she’d be very upset.

It was quiet too. REALLY quiet. I could almost hear… whispers. I really shouldn’t have watched Lost last night, because now, I was on an island of my own, in the woods, hearing whispers, and now… is that black smoke I’m seeing??!?!

Alright, calm down, just my imagination getting the best of me again. I checked my iPod and the signal pointed me to the base of a tree. Awesome. I can quickly uncover the geocache, sign the log and then get the $%& outta there.

Hidden beneath a few twigs, I easily found the cache and triumphantly opened it up, sure that I was the first to f-

Someone had already beaten me to it.

Who goes stomping around in the woods at night where a dead body was once buried just to find a flipping geocache?!??! Well, besides me?

Crap. Ah well, I continued to sign the log, then left a trinket to commemorate the dead.

And then my flashlight started to die.

Oh no. Not now, not HERE. But the flashlight was clearly starting to dim, and before I knew it, I was in pitch darkness.

*whispers…*

Ok, I may be reckless, but I’m not stupid. I had extra batteries in my pack, so I fumbled around to replace the dead batteries as fast as I could.

Movement now. What was that? I stopped and listened. Another geocacher maybe? Preferably one who’[s not an axe murderer? Ah man…

Batteries replaced, I turned my flashlight on maximum beam and quickly scanned the area. Nothing. The trees continued to move and sway with the wind.

*whispers…*

Ok…. I think I’m done now. I placed the geocache back and began walking as briskly as I could (since a full on sprint was impossible.) Suddenly my flashlight caught the beady eyes of an animal staring right at me. My heart leapt as I fought the urge to scream and run…

It was a mouse.

The furry creature gave me a quizzical glance for a moment and then darted off into the woods.

Regardless, I think I was only able to start breathing again once I saw the familiar guardrail at the edge of the forest, hopped it again and ran across the street, arms flailing. Gee I really hope nobody saw me. A panicky looking man running out of a preserve, getting into a car and then burning rubber out of there might raise questions after all. And I wasn’t even the first to find, either. Ah well, it was still a night to remember.

*whispers…*

Comments { 5 }

Geocaching into the Mist

The other weekend I embarked on another historical geocaching hunt commemorating the Battle of Brooklyn, beginning first at Fort Hamilton Park, which is easily one of my favorite areas because of its proximity to the Verrazano Bridge. A huge fog was rolling in from the Narrows and covered half the bridge while I was pulling off the exit to Hamilton. It made for a spectacular view, so I took a quick snapshot from the car:

Verrazano Bridge and Fog as seen from the Belt Parkway

There's something in the mist!!

The British forces had landed near here for the purpose of flanking the Americans from the east, effectively surrounding them on all sides… except for the north, where George Washington made his escape with his army virtually intact to Manhattan and beyond. Tee hee, almost had us there, didn’t ya lobsterbacks?

After finding a place to park, I got out and began my search. The geocache I was looking for is in fact known as a mystery cache, and in order to find its actual hiding spot, I had to first find several clues located throughout the Brooklyn area, then put it all together to calculate the GPS coordinates to the cache. While looking around I decided to take a short walk and took a few more pictures of the famous bridge. I love this area.

Verrazano Bridge and fog as seen from Fort Hamilton Park

Like something out of a Stephen King novel...


 
Verrazano Bridge, fog and tree

You could almost hear the foghorn in the background...

After finishing my walk, I found my first clue in front of a cannon inside the park, and jotted down the details in my iPod. It was now time to find the next clue, which was located in Bensonhurst at the site of the Liberty Pole.

Cannonballs and a Cannon at Fort Hamilton

That's a lot of balls.

Bensonhurst is also famous for its 18th Avenue stretch (among other things), but I was on a different mission today. I parked my car again and took a quick walk down the road before finding myself at New Utrecht Reformed Church. The famous Liberty Pole towered in front of it:

Liberty Pole in Bensonhurst

Wow, that is a long pole.

The flagpole here marked the spot of a Liberty Pole that was installed on Evacuation Day, when the British finally gave up and left — November 25, 1783. While many other flags were erected, this one, however, was the sixth in a line of uninterrupted successions on this site, making it the ONLY Liberty Pole in continuous use since the Revolution. And of course, it also contained the second clue too. Once I found what I was looking for, it was now off to find the next clue, at the oldest mile marker in New York City. I only had to walk a few blocks before finding it, curiously enough, at Milestone Park. The original stone marker had been removed for safekeeping, but the mileage information it displayed had been recorded on a bronze plaque and set into the angled top of a granite pedestal at the center of the park. The milestone, installed around 1741, marked the junction of the Old New Utrecht Road (today’s 18th Avenue) and the King’s Highway. The clue required a calculation of the distance to Deny’s Ferry, which only this marker could provide, so I made my calculation, then watched as others around the park settled in at tables to either play chess (or do other stuff I’m probably better off not knowing about.) No need to dawdle now, I still had two more stops to go, so it was back to the car to take a quick hop to the Flatlands.

Oldest Mile Marker in New York City

Let's see, Deny's Ferry, Deny's Ferry...

Once I arrived at the Flatlands, I had to find a marker located at the Flatlands Reformed Church, a pretty clapboard building that stood adjacent to an ancient cemetery. I was now on the same spot where the British began its flanking maneuver to Jamaica Pass. General Cornwallis had also marched through here in command of one of the columns, and George Washington himself had traveled the same road a few years after the war.

Reformed Flatlands Church

Pretty!


 
Ancient tombstomes at the Flatlands in Brooklyn

A tree pushes through two tombstones.

After taking a quick walk through the cemetery, I went back to one of the markers and easily got the clue I needed. One more clue and I would have everything I need to calculate the final coordinates to the cache. This time I had to continue following the path of the British’s night march all the way to the Claesen Wycoff House Museum, an ancient farmhouse that was also used as a guard house for the British. Today it is now the oldest landmark in New York City.

Claesen Wycoff House Museum

Just so you know, the car wash in the background wasn't around during the time the British marched through here.

I saw no place to park this time, but there was a McDonald’s next door, so I quickly turned in there and then got out to see the old farm house. My last clue was located on one of the entrance gates, so it only took a few minutes of scanning before I found the final piece of the puzzle. At long last! After jotting down the info I needed, I went back to Mickie-D’s and ran into an unexpected surprise:

Hyundai Santa Fe being towed

WHAT THE ____!??

MY CAR!!!!! It was just about to be towed away when I came back. I raced to the tow truck driver and demanded to know what the ^$*% he was doing. He kept writing on his sheet, then jabbed his pen at the sign I had parked in front of. The sign indicated that only patrons of McDonald’s could park here.

“Dude, I was only here for 5 minutes! Are you seriously gonna do this?”

“You’ll have to stop by this address,” he jabbed his pen again at the address on the sheet he was writing on, “and pay the fine before your vehicle can be released again.”

“Dude, I’M STANDING RIGHT HERE. Why do you have to go off somewhere when we can resolve this now?!?” I also told him who I worked for, and was amazed that it didn’t faze him in the least. Then I realized why: I was dealing with a privately paid tow truck driver this time. He must have been hiding behind the restaurant and went to tow my ride as soon as I went next door. Just like that.

At that point I seriously wondered whether I should just grab his head and slam it down on the steering wheel, tear up the sheet that had all my info on it, then hit the lever to lower my car so I could make my escape. I was sure I could get away fast enough before anyone realized what was happening. I started to reach out and…

“Look, I’ll tell you want, there’s an ATM machine inside. If you pay cash now, I’ll drop the car and you can go.”

I thought about it and decided I was better off just paying. I shouldn’t have had to pay to begin with since I hadn’t seen the sign, but it was clearly there and he had me dead to rights. Besides, I had already insulted his mother, his sister, and his last three girlfriends, so I acquiesced and paid the fine rather than watch him drive off with my baby.

$100. Plus city tax.

I went inside and also ordered fries so I could break the change I needed. Ironically enough I ended up being a patron after all, so in a way I had just paid for the most expensive order of fries I have ever had in my life.

Needless to say, I am boycotting McDonald’s for probably the next ten years now. Park THIS, Ronald.

My harrowing experience was finally over once the tow truck weenie unshackled my poor baby and drove away, and after settling down, I put together the coordinates I needed to drive to the geocache. As it turns out, it was hidden somewhere in Prospect Park. Oh boy.

I only had maybe 30 minutes more of daylight left to make a quick search for the cache, but for some reason half the park was blockaded by barriers today. I was gonna have to hoof it at least a half of mile just to where X marked the spot, so I decided to just drive around the barriers and park on the grass somewhere.

And of course, NYPD shows up 2 minutes after I had gotten out of the car to start my search.

Are these people following me around or something? I ran back to the car again and talked to the cop for a few minutes, who had this issue about me parking illegally on the grass in the middle of a city park for some reason. Yeesh, people are so ridiculously green these days…

She however, unlike that stupid evil tow truck weenie, let me go, having acknowledged my supreme awesomeness. I should have told her about him too, but I didn’t want to press my luck. I had probably already violated 15 different traffic laws just getting here from the Flatlands, so mum’s the word for now, eh?

No Honking Sign in Brooklyn

Yes, I admit it, I honked.

Unfortunately my encounter with NYPD forced me to cut my search short, and I had no choice but to go home empty handed. Ah well. :(

On the upside, it did give me something to write about.

Comments { 8 }

My encounter with the locals (and why I must avoid them at all costs)

Yesterday was my last day off before I had to head back to work, so I decided to make the most of it by doing a relaxing afternoon of geocaching. First one I found was at a park where I once worked as a camp counselor, bringing back fond memories of getting jumped and beaten by a bunch of 10 year old snotheads 5 days a week. Ah yes, memories.

The next one was hidden in a what used to be a creek, long since dried up. The area was now a public plot of land that cut through an entire neighborhood and eventually ended at the grounds of a local high school. After checking the coordinates and looking around for a few minutes, I finally located the hidden cache at the guardrail that separated the park from one of the streets. It was a perfect day, the sun shining and warm enough that no jacket was needed. I felt myself relaxing and enjoying the good weather as I opened up the cache to sign the logbook.

Suddenly, a whale mountain of a hag beast Dede Scozzafava lookalike materializes out of nowhere.

“EXCUSE ME, DO YOU WORK FOR THE TOWN?

“Me? No, just taking a walk here, enjoying the weather.”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, ARE YOU SCOPING OUT MY HOUSE?? WHAT DID YOU PUT IN THAT GUARDRAIL???”

“Um, no, I’m not scoping anything. Don’t worry about this either, it’s just a geocache.”

“A WHAT? WHAT IS THAT?”

I cheerily explained the concept of geocaching to her. “It’s like a box that contains little trinkets and a logbook. People hide them all over the world, post the coordinates to them online, and then you use a GPS to find it. Sort of like a hi-tech treasure hunt. It’s really fun.”

She didn’t say anything much after that, and went back into a house nearby, so I thought that was pretty much the end of that. I signed the log and went to return the cache.

Then the land whale materializes again.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??”

I tried to explain geocaching again a few more times, including how you use a GPS device to find caches.

“I DON’T WANT THAT THING HERE. TAKE IT WITH YOU NOW.”

“I don’t think I’m allowed to take it, but I can let the owner know if you feel really uncomfortable about it…”

“THEY’RE SPYING ON US, ELLE!!!” She yelled out to someone apparently standing at the door of the house nearby.

“WHO DO YOU WORK FOR???” The lady apparently named Elle yelled out to me.

I explained who I worked for, which in hindsight I’m thinking was probably a mistake. Because when you combine GPS, satellites, and then the revelation that you work for a government agency, that’s not really a good combo to have when trying to explain a harmless pastime to someone, who for all attempts and purposes was acting like a paranoid schizophrenic.

“Look I have an ID here if you’re that concerned, but I really think you’re overre…”

“IDs CAN BE FALSIFIED. I CAN MAKE A FAKE ID TOO WITH MY PRINTER! I WANT THAT OUT OF HERE NOW!!”

“YOU PUT THAT THERE DIDN’T YOU!? ISN’T THAT A TRACKER??”

“Err no, it’s just a simple keyholder with a logbook inside.” I showed it to her.

Soon another neighbor walking her dog passed by and stopped to see what the commotion was about. It wasn’t 30 seconds before she started glaring at me as well like I was Ted Bundy reincarnated.

“Should we call the police?” She casually suggested. “It looks like he’s littering so they could arrest him for that.”

“I am not littering. And I don’t think I’m on private property either. This area here is a public area right?

“IT DOESN’T MATTER, I CAN SEE YOU FROM MY HOUSE!”

“YOU TAKE THAT THING WITH YOU, AND I DON’T EVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?? I SWEAR IF I SEE YOU HERE AGAIN I WILL GET MY SHOTGUN AND BLOW YOUR HEAD OFF! GET THE #%^$ OUT OF HERE NOW!”

“Ok, can I still take a walk in the pa– you know I think I’ll just leave now.”

I quickly walked back to my car, looking over my shoulder every now and then to see if she was in fact going to go back into the house to get her shotgun. Suddenly there were neighbors everywhere, all murmuring and staring at me like I had just landed here from Mars. They continued to glare at me with steely eyes of raging, foaming hatred. I had never seen anything quite like it.

I still had the cache with me, but no way was I putting it back now. I got out of there fast. Afterwards, I pulled into another section of the park area far away from Miss Nightmare on Elm Street, and hid the cache in a guardrail there. :-D

Once upon a time I had gone to school here (not by choice), and I had always known something was just a little “off” with the locals, which is why I minimized any contact with them. They just weren’t… rational, ya know? But I never realized just how bad it really was until now. To be treated like a criminal and have my life threatened, this despite the fact that I was in a PUBLIC park and was parked legally, and so, what, I’m a threat because she saw me from her house from 50 yards away? Seriously? And then to talk about calling the police and working out how they can get me arrested WHILE I’M STANDING RIGHT THERE?

You know, even now I still have a naivete when it comes to befriending people in real life. I always think once I explain things and show I’m not a threat to them, they learn to relax around me. You would think logic and common sense would prevail in the end, right? Well…

The irony of it is that I when I had gone geocaching in Pennsylvania, people had warned of a similar scenario about a cache hidden at another local park there, and how if you parked on the street, one of the neighbors would have a fit and tell you off for parking in front of his house.

But see, that actually makes sense in a way. Here, I’m not merely parking in front of a house to the chagrin of the homeowner. No, I’m actually an agent for the government looking to place a tracking bug in a guardrail so the aliens can come later to murder you in your sleep. Because see, that just makes so much more sense.

Honestly, the more I travel, the more I realize just how badly growing up here had adversely affected the way I see people. I notice everyone around me is batty cracknuts out of their minds, and I assume that’s just how it is everywhere. People are paranoid, hostile, and will spit in your face just for daring to pollute their existence. They will be friendly one day and then come after you with knives the very next. In fact, I’m pretty certain that if I came back to that same place this weekend, they would all be quite friendly to me. Although, I think I’ll refrain from putting that theory to the test.

I should have paid attention when I took psychology at one of the local colleges here, and the professor mentioned that we had one of the highest ratio of mental hospitals than anywhere else in the country.

Now I know why.

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