Wasp Wars! (Part 2)

When last we left our geocaching adventure, my dad and I had just climbed a 30-foot rock to sign a geocache log. I had braved Daddy-Long-Legs spiders, and my dad had braved being seen with a daughter who was afraid of Daddy-Long-Legs spiders.

And now, Wasp Wars! continues…

After we found the geocache in the woods, we took time to walk down to the creek bank and enjoy the views of High Falls. We crossed back to the other side, where I faced one of my other fears: heights. We walked to the edge so I could take pictures of the falls and the natural arch. Me 1, acrophobia 0 (well, if you don’t count my quick skitter away from the edge once I had my pictures). We went back toward the parking area, and though my dad was willing to make the hike down to the bottom of the falls, I was less enthusiastic. Maybe it was the sign that said “A difficult hike will take you to the base of the falls” (emphasis mine, although I believe that should have been underlined on the sign. I mean, if that’s not an “emphasis everyone” situation, what is?). After our excursion into the woods to get the geocache, I wasn’t in the mood for any difficult hikes. So we made our way back up the road to the car. We were ready to head home, looking forward to the simple “park and grab” cache waiting for us at the gate.

(Side note: a “park and grab” cache is one that the person hiding the cache believes will be very easy to find. You only need the time to park and grab the cache.)

This cache had been hidden by a Geocacher whose methods were familiar. I had a pretty good idea of where the cache was. (If you are planning to geocache near High Falls and don’t want your trip spoiled, skip the rest of this. See ya!). We pulled up to the gate, and my GPS led me to climb out of the car and head to the stop sign. A small cache with a magnet can easily hide in the gap between the pole and the sign. I’ve used this technique myself. And, in fact, I could see the little keyring on the bottom of the tube-shaped cache poking out from the bottom of the sign. I reached in, grasped the ring, pulled it out…

And the ring was still there, attached to the tube and stuck behind the sign. I had pulled “something” out from that sign, and my only clue to that something’s identity was the very angry buzzing of a wasp hovering near the top of the sign.

In one of the fastest activations of my reflexes in a while, I flung the mystery object–which I had deduced was that hovering wasp’s buddy, or girlfriend, or co-worker–away and hightailed it back to the car. While this may not seem very brave, I must confess that I don’t care.

I got in the car and said “Dad there’re wasps around that cache!” My dad, who must have been highly entertained by my escape gyrations, serenely got out of the car and went over to the sign. An attempted grab at the cache angered the wasp committee, who proceeded to strongly encourage my dad’s return to the car. Dad would not be dissuaded. He grabbed a stick and said “I’ll get that cache out” and went back to the stop sign. A poke up behind the sign to pull the cache out only succeeded in luring out more wasps… and luring my dad back to the car. Undaunted, Dad said “I will get that cache out” and headed to the back of the car. He pulled on heavy work gloves, armed himself with a can of Off! and the stick, and marched resolutely back to that sign. The wasps hovered in rage, but Dad deflected their attacks with bug spray and the stick. He even grabbed a wasp in his gloved hands and tossed it away. It was like Aragorn casually swinging his sword and knocking orcs off left and right. Then Dad sprayed the sign, poked the cache with a stick, and pulled it out.

He brought me the cache, which I received as if it were the spoils of war. Which it kind of was. While I signed it, he said, “I’ll take care of the nest,” and went back to the sign. A few more sprays and pokes, and the wasp nest fell out of the sign. He also offered this to me–as spoils of war?–but I declined. Vehemently. After Dad put the cache back in the sign, he returned to the car and asked me if I was sure I didn’t want the nest as a souvenir. I said “NO! It probably has more wasps in it!” To which my dad replied with a grin, “Well, just the larvae. They probably wouldn’t bother you.” My dad is a unique guy.

We had a couple of other caches that we could have hunted in that area, but after climbing massive rocks and battling wasps, we decided that we had done enough geocaching that day. Exhausted by our adventure, our barbaric desire for the (geocache) hunt temporarily sated, we returned home, a little wearier, a little sweatier, a lot wiser. Or something.

And then we went out for hot wings.

The end.

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~ by Amy on July 26, 2011.