no longer a muggle?

We went geocaching last night. An orientation to GPS devices in our driveway was the first step. Intriguing little gadgets with so much might and direction. We marked our home coordinates and then those of the cache, indicated on the web-page printout our geocaching hostess had brought along. Located 777 meters away and in a south-westerly direction according to our trusty devices, the cache was called Laundromat Cache. We know where the laundromat is and so probably didn't need to stare head-down at the device as we walked, but that was fun to do just the same. Spinning around sent the directional pointer (probably has a techie name) around and around.

Turns out Laundromat Cache was just a name for a cache that was actually on the banks of the Santa Fe River, which is, remarkably, flowing. Our hostess found the cache first. Not buried, but concealed (within the rules), Laundromat Cache is a tin can and inside there were live stickers, pennies, action figures, and a log book, which our hostess added her alias to with a sign-off of TFTC (thanks for the cache). The fun of it is apparently removing something from the cache and replacing it with something else. We did this and it was kinda fun.

Our next cache was a virtual one -- apparently "they" are cracking down on these. Our hostess had just had one denied. We walked back through the neighborhood we'd come from and up the hill. It was a beautiful evening and people were enjoying the view from their front porches. I learned where the community pool is and the beauty of what I thought was a poopy dog park. The riddle was easily answered and I declared that I would email the cache creator with it, but our hostess said she was the creator, so no need.

I imagine that I'm still a muggle (name adopted from the Harry Potter series in which it means 'humans without magical powers') until I have my own GPS and begin creating caches. And I'm okay with that.