Number One Too Beaucoup

Palace in the Sky , the unfinished mansion of former President Ferdinand Marcos, has been converted and renamed the People's Park in the Sky.

The Palace in the Sky was built for the official state visit of the former US President and Mrs. Ronald Reagan, though the Reagan's cancelled their trip due to the general unrest and Marcos' problems at the time. Looking at the shell of the palace today, it's hard to imagine the opulence and splendor it enjoyed during its heyday. Hollywood stars entertained the Marcos' and their cronies with such ostentatious and fragrant displays of wasting money, it became one of the final nails in the Marcos' political coffin.

In any event, it's definitely worth the time to visit as the view is amongst the best I've seen; Lake Taal and Taal volcano to the south, Laguna de Bay to the east, and almost as far as Manila to the north. Plus, you get to stamp up the first letterbox in the Philippines!

If you do any research at all on the area, it is easy to find Taal Volcano, which resides in Taal Lake, on the rim of which resides People's Park in the Sky. This is a tourist driven place, but not so crowded that you are unable to find a peaceful moment and wait till any passers-by are out of sight before retrieving the letterbox.

The gate in the photograph below leads to the steep, winding road up to the Palace. Inside is an employee who will take your entrance fee (15 pisos, or about U.S. 30 cents). From this gate the rest of the trip is on foot.

From here, the road winds steeply up. On your left will be a sheer hillside, on your right a steep mountainside. On your way up, watch on your left for the sign pictured below:

At this point, you should stop and pretend to take some pictures, looking for the location of the box and WAITING until the coast is clear to receive it. You will want to go to the end of the sign. Right after the 'K' in 'PARK' you will see a streetlight, about 3 feet off the path on your left:

While looking at this streetlight as if you were taking the picture above, directly to the right and a little bit behind the streetlight, there is a small (about 4 ft tall) 3 stemmed tree. Directly behind this tree is a rock. Under the rock is some Posseware. (a waterproof military container used for decon wipes, so named because they are the Crayola Posse's choice of boxes)

The stamp is the logo of a beer I highly suggest you try while visiting the Philippines, but try it in moderation, it's powerful stuff.

After you stamp up and re-hide the box CAREFULLY, I suggest continuing up the hill and have a wander around this decaying example of the abuse of power.

First Finder gets a HH I planted in the box just for being cool enough to seek out a box in such a far location.

When you return, I suggest you ask a local where Leslie's is. It's an awesome restaurant with wonderful, moderately priced food and good drinks. It is primarily outdoors, you can sit in a Cabana overlooking beautiful Taal lake and it's fish-pens, and Taal volcano:

If you're lucky, the house band will be there. This is them performing ABBA's "Dancing Queen." Truly sublime:

Greetings from Steelers' Nation

It’s almost halfway through the 2007 - 2008 football season, and yeah the Steeler’s are still here. We’re not the best we ever were, nor are we as good as we will be.

What does it mean to be a Steeler’s fan?

"I hated putting on that purple uniform, and I hated that raven bird. What really ticked me off is when we played Pittsburgh our whole stadium seemed to be filled with Pittsburgh fans." Tackle Orlando Brown, on playing in Baltimore for Art Modell's Ravens (1999).

"We're coming from everywhere. We play with 15 guys in the huddle. We have guys parachuting from airplanes, fans coming from out of the stands to help us go after people." Kevin Greene.

"The only thing I want to see different is that there were a lot of Steelers fans there, which is great for the Steelers, but this is our home." Mike Holmgren, Seahawks/Steelers Game (2003)

We are here sitting in our bars or on our couches. We are here cheering every tackle, every sack, and every forced fumble. We are here wanting to smash your face in.

"Who is Joe Namath? This is a guy who, if he played in the league today, I'd probably just go hit him late and see what he did, just for the hell of it. Joe Namath can go to hell; he can kiss my ass." Greg Lloyd, after NBC commentator Joe Namath accused Lloyd of playing dirty (1991).

"Going after the QB is like playing king of the mountain. When you get the QB, you're on top of the mountain." Joe Greene.

"I am very aggressive and very physical. On the field I guess I am just plain mean." Jack Lambert.

"He had no teeth, and he was slobbering all over himself. I'm thinking, 'You can have your money back, just get me out of here. Let me go be an accountant." I can't tell you how badly I wanted out of there." Denver rookie QB John Elway, on Jack Lambert, after Lambert and the Steelers knocked Elway out of his first game as a pro (1983).

We hate the Ravens. We hate Dallas, and we hate Cincinnati. And if you’re from Cleveland, there’s a special circle of hell just for Browns fans.

Nope, we’re not on top. Yeah, New England is pretty much unstoppable. But when you come to Pittsburgh, or we come to your town, you’re gonna lose some players.

Cyclonic out in Philly, chadams in New York, cheartb and Safari Man out there in Ohio, you can box with me anytime.

Except for Sundays...

Real Men...

If you do not read all the blogs I do, you may not understand my inspiration for this or who I am joshing. Did you know you can subscribe to blogs on AQ? It's a very cool thing. I hear there's a cyclone in the "live free or die" state.

Real men wear pasties while hiking, so they don't scrape their nips on briars.

Real men hate Jane Fonda, even though she looked sorta hot in a superman shirt and afro.

Real men use unscented toilet paper. Their butt smells fine the way it is.

Real men like the smell of gasoline.

Real men and "reel em' in" sound a lot alike.

Real men believe in the magical fairy that cleans the house for them.

Real men lift the toilet seat up. However, they also refuse to put it back down. If some woman chooses to sit her naked butt down willy-nilly without looking where she is sitting, that is of no consequence to a real man.

Real men like to get dirty. I mean really freaky. And smoove.

Real men use cottage cheese as a condiment. Perhaps for tacos, or a bacon and egg sandwich.

Real men like Converse All-Stars.

Real men ink standing up.

Real men vote Republican. Then they take a fork and stick it directly into their jugular vein, because it hurts less than voting Republican.

Real men enjoy pooping.

Real men love their country. Especially Hank Williams.

Real men blog.

Real men wear pastels, so they can blend-in to the clothing racks when their girlfriend asks him to go shopping. This enables beer drinking and hand-held game playing.

Real men beat women. At Scrabble.

Real men know that Mr. Yuk is just funning.

- Mr. Yuk

I'm baaaaack...

So, it's been a whirlwind three weeks for me. I have been going on a bunch of little trips for the company I work for and have not been able to do any boxing on these trips. That's sort of like going to a strip joint but having to clean out the stalls. Not any fun.

This combined with some other stuff I had to get done made me seriously late on some postals, which I have spent the past few days stamping in and getting the things out in the mail.

This blog will be like a little summary of the little bit of boxing I have been able to do on the weekends while I have been home.

About three weeks ago, we went to find the three boxes planted by some new boxers in our area. Were were pleased to find all three, first finders in two of them, and great carves. What a welcome addition to the area!

There first was a series of two that has you go across this really cool walking/suspension bridge. It seems that back in the day, the Army Corps of engineers had built two other normal bridges on this spot and had them destroyed by floodwaters. So, in true governmental fashion, they decided to screw it and just built a walking bridge.

But it is one DANDY of a walking bridge. It bounces and swings side-to-side whi;e you are on it, and it is LOOOONG. Here is the Pirate, logbook in hand, on the trail leading up to the bridge:


Here is the entrance to the bridge:



The bridge itself:


The former abutments (sp?) of the old Army Corps of Engineers bridges, long ago washed away:


Their third box took us to a park that made me sing a song repeatedly for about 30 minutes, much to the rest of Team KPI's dismay:

"Up on crooked creek, she..."

I don't know the words to this song so much, so I edited them for enjoyment:

"Up on crooked creek, she kissed me me
If I take a leak, she pissed me
I don't have to eat, she feeds me
a drunkard's dream if I ever did see one...."

While we were on the trail to the box, we spotted this cool tree fungus:







Finally, last Sunday and went to Cook's Forest and decided to float down the Clarion river on innertubes. The Pirate, Longstockings and I found it very relaxing, and we got to catch bullfrog tadpoles and crayfish at the end of the trip. While we were there, we found one box and searched for another mystery. Turned out, we were not only in the wrong park for that mystery, but also in the wrong section of PA! This didn't matter at all. The trail we were on to find the box had us awed at the breathtaking splendor of nature. It was in an old-growth forest and I took several pictures of towering hemlocks and their root systems, none of which came out. What a day!

On the way back home from Cook's Forest, we stopped in Punxsutawney to meetwith the Pirate's grandfather who wanted to watch him for a few days before the summer was over. We were a little early, so we walked around Punxsy lookin at the Groundhog statues a bunch of artsts did. VERY cool. Then, we wandered over to the little park they have in the center of town, which is adjacent to the library. In the library, is Punxsutawney Phil and his wife Phyllis.

I AM DEAD FREAKIN SERIOUS! In the outside wall of the library, there is a glass house. And in this glass house, which is called the "Groundhog Zoo," Punxsutawney Phil and his wife stay until they are needed to tell the weather. I have been to Punxsy SCADS of times and NEVER knew this. Here is the happy couple snuggling the night away:


So, if you're in a ring with me, they're in the mail. If you missed my meandering diatribes on the AQ boards, I'm back.

Mr. Yuk

A Beer Review of My Own

I may look like a Johnny-Come-Lately on this one, but I swear to you I have intended on doing this blog since I drank this beer (last night.)

Then Cyclonic has to come along and steal my thunder.

Truly, it makes me happy as it proves great minds think alike.... But I digress. Today I'm going to steal a lot of text from the Stone Brewing Company's website. When I do so, you will know because it will be in red text. I'm sure they won't mind as I am giving them free advertising to what I really think is a great idea.

I only patronize two establishments of adult beverages on a regular basis. One of those is Callaghans in Greensburgh, PA. Callaghans is like the neighborhood bar where everyone knows your name. It doesn't have a great selection of beers, but us regulars love it.

The second is Dawg's. Dawg's is a bottle shop that has around 480 different types of beers to purchase singly in bottles (or a mixer six pack!) The staff is knowledgable and friendly, and you could go broke on twenty-dollar bottles of beer. I tend to only have one or two when I go, sticking right around the 5-10 dollar area.

Last night was no exception. I started out with La Fin du Monde by Unibroue, one of my favorite blondes. Then I wanted to try something new. So as I was walking along the display coolers, my eye caught the Stone Brewery rack. I've long enjoyed Ruination, so I figured I'd like to try something else by this wonderful company. This is how I happened upon Stone Vertical Epic 07.07.07...

As with any good epic, herein lies the promise of larger-than-life experiences, heroics and twists & turns as the adventure unfolds. These bottle-conditioned ales are specifically designed to be aged until sometime after December 12th, 2012. Provided you can wait that long. At that time, enjoy them in a "vertical" tasting. Each one unique to it's year of release. Each with its own "twist & turn" in the plotline. Each one released one year, one month and one day from the previous year's edition.

So here's the deal. Stone decided to release ELEVEN different beers, each bearing the Stone Vertical Epic name. The brews released so far are:

Stone Vertical Epic 02.02.02
Stone Vertical Epic 03.03.03
Stone Vertical Epic 04.04.04
Stone Vertical Epic 05.05.05
Stone Vertical Epic 06.06.06
Stone Vertical Epic 07.07.07

These will continue to be released up until 12.12.12 at which point, you are supposed to have a vertical tasting, first to last! That's right, these beers are conditioned to continue to age in the bottle until after the last edition. The flavor will keep changing and the flavors will blend and mellow until being perfect AFTER 12.12.12.

Of course, the one I tried last night was the newest, 07.07.07. Here is it's description:

In this year's edition we took our inspiration from two Belgian styles: Saisons and Golden triples. As such, the Stone 07.07.07 Vertical Epic has a deep, deep golden hue and the flavor is spicy, fruity, complex and refreshing. We used four different malts, and a subtle, yet distinct, blend of Glacier and Crystal hops to get just the right balance. Then, for complexity, we added in some exotic spices --- including ginger, cardamom, grapefruit peel, lemon peel, and orange peel (the latter three acknowledging our Souther California home) --- and a special Belgian yeast strain. All in all this is yet another case of us drawing from classic Belgian influences and cavalierly making it our own...San Diego style!

Deep, Deep Golden is right. It's a pleasure to look at. There it was, sitting in a Delirium Tremens glass, just being stunning. It is a very complex beer. Citrusy at a start, then dryer and more spicy, and finally mellowing to an exotic light hoppiness. The flavor seemed to change distinctly with each passing second.

I bought another 07.07.07 to save, now I just gotta get a bottle of all the other ones to stick in my basement and wait till I turn 35.

So, you're from Pittsburgh, ey?

As some of you know, I have recenly taken a trip to Canada. Canada, in case you have never been there, is America's hat. It is roughly the size of Jupiter, but has the population of Ballsac, Iowa. (That is not a real town at all. (I think.(Though it should be.))) Canadians as a whole are very friendly. This is excluding the ones that speak only French. I don't know if they are friendly or not, as I cannot understand them. This, however, did not stop them from talking to me. I had many conversations in one sided French, and though I picked up the word "crepe" many times, I had the feeling they were swearing at me, as French consists of roughly 82% cuss words. *

I guess Canada is a pretty interesting place, if you can make it out from under the trees. I , however, did not. My hotel was actually a tree fort, and I was repeatedly whacked in the shins by some kid name Mortimer while trying to sleep. Apparently he beleived I was a pirate, come to take over his castle. **

I had the following conversation approximately 3 thousand times during my 3 day stay in Canada. (Apparently they like hockey, who knew?):

Random Canadian (RC): "So, where ya from?"
Mr. Yuk (MY): "Pittsburgh"
RC: "Oh, Pennsylvania, ey?"
MY: "Yup."
RC: "So, you know Sidney Crosby then?"
MY: "Not personally, but I am aware he plays for the Pittsburgh Penguins."
RC: "Oh Yeah, You know he grew up about 4 hours from here."
MY: "I was unaware."
RC: "Oh Yeah, he used to come on down here to Bathurst Rink and we'd all go watch him play, He's amazing..."

Eventually this conversation became this:

RC: "So where ya from?"
MY: "Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, the home of the Pittsburgh Penguins where Sidney Crosby, who grew up 4 hours from here, and used to play at Bathurst Rink, now plays hockey."
RC: "Ah, Um, OK nice meetin ya."

Bathurst really is a nice place, with nice beaches, lots of unspoiled nature and amazing seafood.

While in the hotel, I was watching TV, and managed to catch one of those advertisements for 1-900 adult sex lines. They were all in French which provided me with endless mirth. However, here is a difference from US sex advertisements. In Canada, between the segments for the 900 numbers, it cuts to a bunch of young, hip adults sitting in a circle on love-seats. On closer inspection, these adults are holding, uh, toys. And I'm not talking about the batman/barbie variety. They then proceed to speak about these products in French, and then flash a number and price on the screen where you can order said product for, uh, personal use. The best thing about this is that some words apparently don't translate very well. Their diatribe on whatever they were talking about came out sounding like this:

"Mon singe aime prendre son cockring et sauter autour de la maison tout en criant au dessus de ses poumons."***

While I as there, I managed to plant a box.

My travel time (one way) from Pittsburgh to Bathurst was about 11 hours. Only about 4 and a half of it was flying. For the rest I was stuck in layovers, due largely to the overtaxed Bathurst Airport (Make sure you read the writing.):
Oh, and there's lots of maple syrup.

-Sticky Yuk

* - 90% Fact Free **-100% Fact Free ***-100% Factual

A house for my box.

This will be a short little post about a lonely box.

I have a few plants under my belt now, and while I'm not obsessive about them, I like when I receive find notices and worry when I do not. This worrying has lessened somewhat, I do some maintenance and see 9 finders but only one logged. Oh well, glad people are enjoying them.

But I had this one box that has been sitting out there for a long time, no finders, no reports, nothing. So, I decided to do some maintenance. Fortunately, the box is on the way to one of my favorite summer activity places, so I made a day out of it with the family.

When I got to the hidey-spot, I noticed a bit of a social trail leading past the tree it was hidden behind. I was a bit dismayed at this because it was in a preserve (only about twenty feet off the trail) and I did not want to disrupt any planty things. Turns out, though, it was only a deer trail. It actually wound past the tree my box is hidden behind and deeper into the woods.

So, I followed the fortuitously placed deer trail back to my tree and here is what I see waiting behind it:
See how nice nature is? It made a happy little mayapple pagoda over my little SPOR. The box has no finds and it's sitting snug and dry under it's house.

I know this may have been a boring post, but when I was out there in the woods and I saw that happy little mayapple, I just felt kinda serene.

Mr. Yuk (feeling a little like Bob Ross)

Budget Impass

I am not happy.

You see, I live in PA, a state that prides itself on our State Parks. We have 117 of them. Every Pennsylvanian is within a 15 minute drive from a State Park. These are great areas to explore nature, get some peace and quiet, or go boxing.

Until midnight tonight.

That is when all "non-essential" services in PA will be shut down, due to our current budget impass. Governer Ed Rendell has made the decision that at midnight tonight, 2300 DCNR employees will be placed on furlough. The few who do remain in place will be performing "enforcement and safety shifts only." This boils down to keeping the public off our own land.

Today, you cannot visit a state run museum in PA. You cannot take a drivers license test or get your license renewed. The perpetual construction on our highways has ceased. Even the lights illuminating the Capitol Building are off, as there is no money to run them.

Fortuantely, essential services will remain in place. Among these:

1. The Police
2. Prisons
3. Health Care for the Poor
4. Gambling

Yup, thats right. The Governer in his glorious foresight, has decided that our five slots casinos must remain open, providing an 11th hour exemption from the closing.

So, lets sum this up: The budget impass is so dire that our roads are not being fixed, people cannot remain legal to drive if they happen to be unlucky enough to need these services now. and we can not visit the woods in a state NAMED "Penn's Woods."

We can, however, still be arrested, go to jail, receive health care if we cannot afford it, and gamble.

What an appalling age we live in.

Harmony...

Nope, not referring to anything musical at all.

It seems a long time ago, in Germany there was a guy named George Rapp. George had started an esoterical, Sophist religion called the Harmonists. Because of their difference with Westernized Christianity (one publication from the organization called the standard doctrine so much "Babel") they began to experience much persecution. Because of this, George Rapp and his son (with 700 Harmonists following a bit later) moved to America and purchased three thousand acres in Butler County, PA. It was here that they began the first of three Harmonists settlements, naming it "Harmony."

The Harmonists were communal in nature and practiced celibacy. (A major cause of them dying out as a religion (duh)). However, they are recognized as one of the pre-eminent and most successful of the Utopian Societies. This was largely due to the negotiating skills of George Rapp. At times the per-capita income of the Harmonists was 10 times that of the average American. They lived in Harmony from 1905-1915, and in that time their community included 130 houses, a church, a hotel, a school, a mill, a brewery and distillery, barns, storehouses, factory buildings, and a tannery. By 1814, the Society was farming some 3000 acres of land, with 3000 sheep and 600 cattle.

They were also known for some ingenious inventions and new industrial processes.

One of the curious things about the Harmonists is that when they buried their dead, they did not use a marker of any kind except for a rock placed over the gravesite.

Why am I telling you all of this, you may ask? Well, one of the best things about letterboxing is that you get to learn some great history and see some really neat sites. This happened this weekend. Zelie Zips has seeded Butler County with some great letterboxes. She and her family are pretty much the only active placers in that area and should be commended for the wonderful quality and history of her boxes.

She has a plant at the Harmonist cemetery, and though I had grabbed it by myself prior to this, I wanted to show it to the rest of Team KPI. Also, the first time I grabbed the box it was in the middle of the night and there was a foot of snow on the ground, so I did not get to explore.

What a truly cool place this is. The Harmony historical society has done a good job of putting up some informational signs:

The coolest thing about this place is the door. The entire cemetery is walled in and has 100 gravesites in it. There's only one headstone inside, which I will get to in a minute. The door to the interior is a stone tablet that weighs over a ton, and rotates on an iron rod that is pierced through the center of it and attached to the upper and lower parts of the doorframe. Approximately 200 years after it's construction, my six-year-old is able to open this over 2,000 pound door with a push. (I cannot figure out how to make a picnic table.)
The "one grave marker" I referenced earlier is for a Mr. Johannes Rapp. I will not give any description, I'll let the informational marker do that. I find it darkly humorous.

Well shit. For some reason the link to expand the pics isn't working. I have to figure that out. Anyway, here is what the sign says:

The Harmonists did not mark their graves. This stone memorializes Johannes Rapp, son of Harmony Society founder Johann Georg Rapp, who was injured fatally in an industrial accident; the location of his grave within the cemetery is unknown. Non-Harmonists donated the stone, which the society accepted reluctantly.

We were able to find 8 other boxes, all great. One was next to this really cool waterfall that The Pirate had fun playing around.
A great letterboxing trip and we got to meet and exchange with that wonderful boxer. Weekends like this make work that much harder to come back to...

My dissatisfaction with Postals

Recently, I dropped from four Postal Trackers, which I had signed up for months ago. In the messages I sent to all participants, I merely said I found my interest waning ad felt like I would become a black hole in the future. On this blog I'd like to detail why.

One of the things I LOVE about letterboxing is the stamps. It's amazing to me that true works of art could be hidden just feet off the trail that hundreds of people pass daily. I feel like I'm in on a secret. One of the things that attracted me to postals is that I felt since people would run less of a risk of their carving being lost, they would carve better stamps.While I have found the carvings are generally better (and in some cases amazing) they have lost a little value to me. I admit, I'm becoming sort of a stamp snob. Part of the joys of boxing in PA is that there are SO MANY great carvers around, you get great stamps a LOT. Just seeing their carves have made mine better.

But that's the thing. These amazing artists take JOY out of placing their art in the woods, no matter what fate brings. They don't reserve their shitty carvings for the woods. They put their BEST carvings out there to be found. Just shipping them around to 8-12 people then putting them on the shelf seems weird to me. I appreciate them a lot more when there's trees around.

Secondly, I get overwhelmingly stressed if I do not send the thing out in exactly three days. I am by nature, not a punctual person. I have little free time, and family and work interfere. I have let some of my postals go for a week or more. Every new one that arrived made me more stressed. Instead of being excited about receiving a new postal, I was having the opposite reaction. This was robbing me of the happiness I should feel about receiving someone's art. I may have signed up for too many rings being relatively new to postals, but I definitely got burned out quick. Seeing reports on AQ of boxers receiving TWELVE packages at once filled me with dread.

Finally, the postals were actually taking up time that I wanted to use for actual letterboxing pursuits, like solving mysteries, planning outings, poring over maps, preparing boxes. It would be a sad day indeed when it started taking over actually getting on the trails.

This is not meant to disparage postal letterboxing or anyone that enjoys it. I may even sign up for a postal in the future if the theme particularly suits my fancy (like my Punk Rock Ring). But it will be only one at a time.If you have never done postals and feel the urge, by all means sign up. Celtic Quinn hosts a newbie Ring and many ringleaders are very helpful to new entrants. But be wary. Take your time to learn about it, sign up for just one ring until you see if you like it. There are some GREAT postal creators out there, and you'll see and stamp into some great stuff. Just remember the experiences I have had and if you start to feel the way I do, it will probably get worse.

I didn't want postals to rob me of the joy of postal letterboxes. Does that make sense?

And for the forseeable future, all of my carves except for sig stamps and PT's are destined for the woods.

Livermore (BOO!)

This weekend, after planting a box on Saturday, we decided to go check out one of the few remaining letterboxes within a fifty mile radius that was unfound by us.

This Letterbox is located near a VERY historic cemetery and ghost town, unfortunately, most of the history about this place is untrue.

Livermore was named for a guy named Alonzo Livermore, an engineer for the Pennsylvania Canal, which was the life-blood of the town's economy. In the 1950's, the town was dismantled by the Army Corps of Engineers to make way for Conemaugh Lake. All the residents were moved, and the water was let in.


There are an amazing amount of urban legends about this place:

1. George Romero's "Night of the Living Dead" was filmed here. This is False. That was actually filmed in Evan's City, PA. The problem with everyone thinking it was filmed here is that the cemetary which holds the long-dead, before-flood, residents of Livermore is frequently disturbed by vandals and occultists. All this has resulted in the cemetary being completely off-limits and you can get fined, by the patrolling state-police for crossing the gate below:


2. The cemetery was uprooted and moved to it's current location. Also false. The cemetery has ALWAYS been here. (Well, at least since Livermorians (?!?!) started dying.) There used to be a bridge that crossed the old rail line to connect the town to the cemetery.


3. When the water is low, you can see the chimneys of the old houses and steeple of the old church. It is really spooky. Nope, false, false, false. The key thing about bullet point number 1 is that the town was DISMANTLED. Everything. Yup, even the church. However, if the creek is REALLY low, you can see some foundations. Big whoop. Here is where the town USED to be:

All of these facts aside, it is a spooky place. The place just feels old and stinks of industrial neglect. The flood basin just piles up huge masses of rotting timber and deposits it along the trail, so at times you feel as if you're entering some place you shouldn't be.

The flowers were out and beautiful (too bad these pictures suck. I gotta start remembering my camera. These are taken with my phone):

And we found the box. Inside was a hitchhiker all the way from California that was part of "The Great HH Race of 2004." We'll send it on it's way up to NY and maybe FINALLY it can reach it's destination.

Gathers, Boxers, and Beers, OH MY!

This weekend we were able to attend Stampin' and Campin. What a great experience. Throughout the entire brou-ha-ha I forgot to take any pictures at all until the ride home. Real smart.

Some of the highlights:

1. If you ever get a chance to attend a gather thrown by the Mid-Atlantic crowd, I HIGHLY suggest you do so. Hikers and Hounds managed every detail, down to bringing food, arranging for campsite, and some gather-only boxes. She really deserves credit for all she put into this, we had a GREAT time.
2. A large contigent of dogs filled the campsites, all of them boxers as well. Dude the Wonder Dog, Otto, and Luna all had inky doggy-paws. There was also a large black lab who was patrolling the grounds late at night. I failed to catch his name by that point, however, as I was having trouble being coherent. Which leads me to....
3. Booze! Maryland is kind enough to let you do whatever the hell you want in their woods, as long as you do not have more than two cars per campsite. This is the one thing they will strictly enforce, asking you to kindly move your moonshine distillery so the third car in the site next to you can go to the overflow parking lot. We had lots of beer and one illustrious set of boxers were kind enough to bring Johnny Walker. (not the person)
4. We got the oppotunity to box with a team that has been around since the beginning of boxing in the US. I won't reveal who they are as they choose to fly under the radar, but it was really quite the learning experience getting regaled with stories about the origination of cooties, long time boxers, and happenings before we wandered into this wonderful hobby.
5. The STAMPS! Starry Starry Night by MizSarlet is a masterpiece (quite literally) and the homages, personal travelers, and other assorted stamps were a pleasure to ink up.
6. Cyclonic was kind enough to set up a night boxing course. The trail was tricky at night, but we had a wonderful time stumbling around the woods that we hardly nnoticed.
7. Sunday we went boxing again, and found another set of one of my favorite series. At one of the boxes, there was a family literally SITTING on the log it was hidden in, and we simply had to wait for about 10 minutes before they decided to move on.

I'm sure I'm leaving out a lot, but thank you to everyone who made this experience memorable. Longstockings and I felt truly welcome and had a great time.

On the way home, our car started behaving funny, so we pulled over into Frederick airport, thinking if we couldn't fix the problem we could rent a car. To make a long story short, we fixed the problem quickly and decided to get some dinner at the little restaurant in the airport. When we got into the restaurant and looked out the window, here is what we saw:

That's right, the Goodyear f'n blimp was docked at this teensy little airport for the night. How cool is that? There are actually three of them, One based each in Florida, California, and Ohio. It was neat seeing this thing up close.

After eating we were attracted to a micro-box along the Appalacian Trail:

This box is located about 100 yds away from this sign at the FIRST Washington Monument. The thing in the photos below was built in the 1820's by the residents of Boonesboro, MD to honor our First President.

The Pirate and I in the doorway:

The steps up to the top:

What a view!:

All in all, a great weekend with great people. Thank you all for the history, good times and camaraderie.

HH's, little animals, and LTC's

This weekend was not a huge boxing weekend. I had to work on Saturday, and Sunday we did some other stuff with family. We were able to fit in one box however. This box was located in a city park and contained a store-bought stamp. Other than the hiding spot which was really spectacular, is was a pretty run-of-the-mill find.

The thing that really brightened the day up was a little HH I found inside. This little guy, from the SoHillHendersons, has been all over the country and the stamp, though small, is fairly intricate. This is what makes me really appreciate HH's, they can add to the enjoyment of a find. There is not just one logbook to enjoy, but two. There is not just one stamp to enjoy, but two. And the HH is sort of an adventurer with it's own little story. I love these little things, and I have a hostel ready to plant, I just have to find the right place.

Additionally, we found two more little dudes that day. For those of you that read my blogs, you may remember the baby groundhog. Well this weekend we also found:

and:

Box Turtles are pretty funny little guys, and they're named "box turtles" because they muggle letterboxes. This one I followed to his hidey-hole and found mounds of chewed up tupperware. It's the ink they like. :) I actually thought it would be neat to create a little hitchhiker, where the stamp is a piece of tupperware with four legs and a head. "the Box Turtle..." heh...

In other news, LTC's are "Letterboxer Trading Cards" which are based on Artist Trading cards. The idea is to have a central image on the front side of the card, using mixed media, but it must include a hand-carved stamp. On the back you have your trail name, your real name if you wish, the LTC name and the edition number (i.e. 1 of 20.) I thought this was a pretty great idea, and I spent the weekend making mine. I'm very happy with the way they turned out. When I came into work on Monday, I saw there was another tracker listed (thanks Batty Girl!) for trading these cards, with a limit of 20. I signed up in the nick of time, and am really excited for this to start.


Disclaimer: Yes, Old Scratch, the Devil, Satan, whatever you want to call him is included on my LTC. No, I am not a Satan Worshipper. In fact, if you are truly are ambivalent in regards to spirituality, you equally deny both the good side AND the opposition. Lucifer ("Lucy" to his friends) is included as a reference to Robert Johnson, one of the quintessential blues artists.

A great weekend

Weekends like this make me want to move somewhere where it's always summer. Don't get me wrong, I love PA, but when it's freezing cold outside you don't get to do fun stuff unless you want to lose your patootsie to frost-bite.

First, I slept in on Saturday. This is not something I usually do, but I needed the sleep and it felt great.

Then, we went to Seven Springs to fiddle around in the woods, play some games, and grab a box.

Finally, it was time for the yearly "Greensburg Days" fair. This is a three day long extravaganza of fried food, mediocre rock bands, bingo, and carnival rides. My first stop every year at Greensburg Days is always Jim the Greek's Gyro shop. Jim is a deaf-mute greek man, but he's built like the dudes in "300." And he makes the best Gyros EVER. I always get mine with extra feta cheese, I love those little crumbly cheese bits.

My son ate halushki and fries. For those of you not from an area that was settled by people who descended from large stinky vegetables, halushki is buttered noodles and cabbage. It's delicious, and I finished what my son didn't eat.

For such a small fair, Greensburg has an awesome fireworks display. I tried to get really nice picture, but they came out sorta poopy, so you don't get the full experience. Here are a few of them anyway:

After the fireworks, it was time to ride the rides and play carnival games. I went on a few of the upside-downers and went on a few normal rides with my son who is not yet large enough for the big-boy rides. Again, I tried to get a nice picture of us on the Ferris wheel, but this is all that came out. blah:

Finally we went home, the Pirate went to bed, and I carved the stamp for the upcoming "Beers of Summer" Postal Tracker, actually tracing the image off of a six-pack from the fridge. I'm REALLY happy with the way the stamp came out, and I hope all the other lushes in the ring will be as well.

Sunday? Laundry, then some summer clothes shopping, and finally some more boxin. It was a good day, we found both boxes we set out to find, planted #6 of the "Pride of Pittsburgh" series (thanks Safari Man!) and replaced the logbook in #1. Then we did a little hiking and I found this tree:

How cool is THAT!?!?! I know this probably means that the tree is infected with something (it is in fact dead, but you can't see that part further up the tree) but I just love this thing. It will be a prominent feature in a clue sometime this summer.

While we were hiking, I was sending out find reports on my PDA and updating box status while actually on the TRAIL! It was pretty cool.

Finally some Frisbee (with the 130 gram model, the 180 gram is a little too heavy for tiny hands) and then some sleep. All in All a great weekend.

Remind me never to vote Republican.

I consider myself a pretty a-political dude. I definitely lean to the left, and at one point in my life derided America on a near daily basis for it's abuses of power. It only takes one trip to a third world country, though, to make one thankful of what we have here in the U.S.A. I have been to three, and have moved a lot closer to "center" than in my younger years.

I manage a telemarketing center. Telemarketers, I know, are not the most popular people in the world. But they are also not, in most cases, the shysters people make us out to be. We are so controlled by laws and regulations that it would be impossible to be anything but honest. We have stringent quality standards and heavy monitoring.

Additionally, the people that work in telemarketing centers have a HARD job. The make upwards of 600 calls in a day, and let me assure you that it is few and far between that the person on the other line is happy to hear from us. They put up with hours of abuse each day. I have single mothers, high school drop-outs, professors, former inmates, and people from just about all walks of life employed in this center. We are a true melting pot, with African-Americans, Chinese, Filipinos, Whites, Mexicans, and even a Brazilian. I have ladies in their 80's and guys in their teens.

Many of these people would be "living off the government" if we did not employ them. Some of our employees have been here 18 years.

One of my current clients has something to do with the Republican party. I'm not gonna go into any more detail than that.

In the industry, there is a thing called a "seed call." This is a phone number seeded into a calling list, usually one of the client's numbers. It is used to check the ability of the tele-marketers.

We had one of these today, and among the feedback that we received was that the caller sounded too "urban." Like we have Jay-Z on the payroll or something.

We record EVERY phone call that leaves this center, and I fire people if their quality sucks.

I sound more urban than this agent, even though he is black. I'm not saying that black people necessarily sound urban, I'm saying this because the client happened to make this comment about the only black person on this campaign. If this were the "Fresh Prince of Bel Air," this agent sounded more like Carlton than Will Smith.

The client also purposely baited and was blantantly rude to this agent throughout the call, but the agent remained professional throughout.

I've never been more disgusted in my life with feedback from a client. If I were a Republican I would be ashamed to have this guy on my side.

The next time one of us calls you, it's ok to hang up on us. We get it all day long. It's ok to say no, we get it all day long. If you feel we're being too pushy, it is usually the case that the rep is mandated to rebuttal a minimum number of times. Hang up on us if you don't want to hear it. If one of us is rude to you, complain to the supervisor. But by all means, don't be rude to someone who is just doing their job, and is going to work EVERY day to slug it out for 4 or 5 sales. Remember, you're talking to a person. Usually a person who is just trying to get by.

I'll step off my soapbox now.

Ghost Town Trail

On Sunday we went boxin. And by "we" I mean my gf Longstockings, my son The Pirate, and myself. The first two boxes were on this great trail called "Ghost Town Trail." It's a very well kept and scenic rails to trails area in Indiana, PA. It doesn't, however, live up to it's name. I was expecting burnt out and ramshackle buildings that reek of dispair and regret. Instead I got a nice walk in the woods.

"Kevin, if ya caught fish erry time ya went fishin, it'd be called catchin."

This is one of my mottos in life. I learned this from Stan. Stan was the Rancid Crabtree (for those of you that remember "Last Laugh" in Outdoor Life) in my life. This dude was absolutely insane, smelled of chewing tobacco and whiskey, and always good for some fun.

I need to learn to apply this motto to Letterboxing. I hate it when I can't find the box. It's not even so much that I can't find the box, it's that it may be RIGHT UNDER MY FEET and I'm looking in the wrong place. I get crazy. Usually when I calm down and think about it, I can puzzle out the clues and look through the planter's eye and glean where the box is. But these clues were STRAIGHTFORWARD and the box simply was not there. So you start to question yourself: "It's probably been muggled, but what if it's behind THAT crooked tree instead of this one." I usually stalk around the woods in this mode for about a half-hour, annoying my gf and boring my son. (who is five years old, and once he defeats all the ninjas in a particluar portion of the woods with his sword (a stick) needs to move on to find other, more worthy opponents...)

So, eventually I see a baggie sticking out from under some leaves, 4 feet away from where the box should have been. I do a little recon and find another baggie. Both ripped, no box, nothing else. Was I upset? NO! I was relieved that I found the spot and figured out the clues. This is a sick mindset. I was unhappy that the box was gone, but happy knowing I wasn't just MISSING it.

All in All, it was a great day. 3 of 4 boxes, First Finders on two of them, and hiking in two places I had never visited before. I just need to wake up and see the trees behind the box sometimes. A day spent outdoors with the family is better than any dumb box.

One little side note. Beside one of the boxes was this little guy:

A tiny little baby groundhog that was nice enough to pose and let us take pictures of him from inches away. This was advantageous as I was able to explain to my son that even though an animal will LET us get close and looks so cuddly, we must never touch it. I got to explain to him about the oils on our skin and possible maladies that can come from the animal.

He is a darling little thing though, huh?

Yukky Gardening

This year I decided to plant a garden.

There's this "dad" in me that sorta wants me to be domestic. I'm not the typical sorta dad, my son likes the Ramones and Dillinger Escape Plan and is 5 years old. I have these CD's that I have burnt with kid friendly punk rock and metal on them, and that is what I play when he is awake. I don't want him to learn to cuss, but I also want him to know more than the crap that is on the radio. However, I always have this nagging fear that there should be a sense of normalcy in his upbringing. Thus the garden.

Last year, I planted Kentucky Colonel Mint and forgot to buy any other plants. This resulted in my entire garden becoming a mint patch, which I learned is an "intrusive" plant. This is no joke. If you don't put up a good enough border, mint will creep into your house and steal your beer. This year, I dug up the mint in all the places I didn't want it, all the while being "hollered at" by Colonels from Kentucky. (state motto: "If it's brown and ain't whiskey, you should be flushin' it.) I then placed a brick border around the mint patch to curb it's larceny. The result:

If you look, the mint is already trying to creep over my border. I may have to send it to the brig. Now, because this year I was planting a proper "garden," I wanted to have other plants. But the problem is I don't like most vegetables. I did some thinking and decided I wanted to plant baby spinach, as I like this for salads. Iceberg lettuce sucks:

I planted squash, but I realized I hate squash. So I ripped that bastard out and planted lemon-balm instead. (If anyone knows what to do with this, I'm all ears.) I planted it cuz it smells nice:

I planted onions to chop up and put in to my burgers and meatloaf. These are just lil' guys right now, so that's my finger pointing at the the infant onions:

I just love pesto, and I knew it had some green shit in it, so I figured out what it was and planted some of it. (It's BASIL!):
These are peas or beans, I forget which I bought. I hope they're beans:

These are chives. I have no idea what to do with these things. But they did get some flowers that fell over:

And finally, these are cherry tomatoes. I personally think tomatoes look like afterbirth, but my son would rather eat them than candy. So these are for him. I know I don't need that big ass stick in there yet, but I put it in anyway to give them some encouragement to grow huge:

Well that's it. I also have some flowers strewn about the house, but I got tired of taking pictures and went on a hike instead. If anyone knows what the hell I can do with lemon balm or chives, it would be great if you could clue me in.

Farmer Yuk