Our merry crew was out riding near the bench today, and sad to say that Velocache #9 has presumably been hung high.
The list of suspects runs the usual gamut; Steinbeck's thirsty ghost, owls (they are thick over there I hear), or the lengthy list of young children who have collected previous caches without laying down any treats. I for one believe that the wily gangsters of Salinas have instituted hill climbs and cache infiltration to their initiation rites.
He died doing what he loved, waiting for someone to bike by and drink him. (makes half-assed sign of the cross motion)