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)

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.

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?

Camouflaging Boxes

SO, I recently started camouflaging my letterboxes. I thought I'd show you all some pictures of the process. So first of all, why would I camo the boxes?

1. They will be harder to see by noxers (duh)
2. If found by a noxer, they will look less like litter and more like something that is SUPPOSED to be there.
3. They look really cool.
   

I use Krylon Spray Paint. You will get more use out of the spray paint than camo-tape and it will last longer and not get all "gummy." (Technical term #1):

This is what I started with. A bunch of L'n'L's and a drink bottle:

And this is how they ended up. The additional boxes in the photo are decon wipe containers. They are already OD Green, I just added some blobs (Technical Term #2) of black:

Here is my son (The Pirate) giving The Rock Hand of Approval (Technical Term #3):