Geo-whaa?
At 28, I feel past the age where I go out until 4 AM on Friday. Yet by the time my friends Jo and Laura could get ourselves organized, decide what we wanted to do and assemble, it was already past 11. We’d been talking about taking in some Italian schlock film at the Werepad, a uniquely San Francisco space I discovered quite by accident (late night, nothing to do, following hyperlinks all over creation, you know). Yet I had a pathetic vision of myself sitting down to be schlocked and dozing off after 5 minutes I was so zonked.
Before Laura arrived, I’d been poking around at Geocaching.com, site of a worldwide treaure hun I first read about on my friend Jish’s weblog, which prompted me to drop a few hundred much-needed bucks on a GPS Device. I found out one such treasure lay somewhere on Bernal Hill, not too far from where we were headed anyway. We spent the next two hours letting this little device about the size of a Hershey bar lead us in the dark and dense fog. When we finally found our “cache,” we all howled in joy at the city we couldn’t see below.
Geocaching. My new favorite weekend activity. I’ll schlock some other time.