#38 revisited- a series of mistakes. Y pues? Volver volver volver

Hola extranjeros! Bienvenidos amigos. Look East. go where your eyes see.


Ladies on horses may call this #41, but hella hard core dude bros call it Goat Trail.



Everbody calls this Oil Well Road.





You'd think it'd be here, but it is not. Too many vermin and potential looky loos.




It is here instead.


So get to gettin'. This was a hard ride when first hidden, and it remains a challenge.

#39 Found

Smoke this skinwagon!

VC #39, right behind the pricklers where the memorable (?) Michelob Ultra was consumed during that memorable (?) Sleaze Otter

We didn't linger long, as a broken-down car and inhabitants were hanging out there. Back down Aguajito to the home ranch for some tearing into o' the box.

Please oh please let this be inside

No signed Burt Ward pictures, but a bounty worth of a thirsty king. Hammses, Italian flag crochet gloves for style, flair, and a bikeable stoner proclamation.

But wait....there's more!

Having solved the world's problems, I'm glad we are finally living in an age when your hydration pack can provide a misting cool.

#39 Ram it in your climb hole

Don't fool yourself. This one is going straight up your pedal chute. Like a ship without an anchor. Like a snake without a chain. Like a feather haired teen in too-tight cut-offs atop a rickety pair of scuffed white roller-skates.

True Sleaze Otter aficionados will riggity-recognize the power pedestal behind which rests a box filled with sweet sweet Velocache. Many of you have piled bottles of Michelob Ultra atop this Monument.





And since you're already up there, you may as well continue on and get #38; on which I checked and still in situ is which.

That's science talk for get off your arse. You are an early morning lover and you must be movin' on.

#38 bumble in the Monterey Pines?-DO NOT SEEK

...I'm better now, than I was. I'm experienced now. PROfessional. ___'s been broke, been lost, knocked down a couple times. I'm BAD. Been chopping trees. I done something new for this Velocache!

I done wrassled with a alligator. That's right. I have wrassled with a alligator.


Which one a y'all chumps is ready to come down to South Central California and actually ride hard, both on and off road, to catch a cache?



You prolly came from this direction. You know, West.



This is no place for rope-a-dope. You got to be fast. Fast. Fast. Like when you cut the light off in your bedroom; hit the switch are in the bed before the room is dark.


Don't blow it and head further this way. You know, East.




You'll want to head this way. You know, North.



Eventually looking back and seeing this,

whilst continuing on this way. You know, North. NOT following the more established track over to the West again. Get in there and begin your hike-er, uh, climb.



Keep going.



This type of trail will look familiar...

And even though that bag will not be there, it is directing you the right way...

towards this arrangement of stones. Cairn. Rock Duck. And even though this package will not be there, it will be nearby. You know, East. If you head that way, you're in the right.



LOG?



Everyone loves Log.

Enjoy the peace. This is a very rarefied spot.


I fully expect that there will be some sitting on the hands here. None of y'all have been here, and that's a fact. Doesn't mean you shouldn't go, and if you ask nicely I'll show you how to get here on the down-low downhill.

37b: More PITA than cache

If this is belongs to you, then know that I could have simply taken it to your house. Instead, if this belongs to you then surely you reconize where it be.


You're welcome. Get it before it's gone?

37- been had

Space vato. Square cat. Say "car...am...ba, partners where's the party at?".



Enough is enough is enough. Thanks to the detailed series of photos in the last post, I was able to hunt and peck the location. (I did not know that park was there at all.)


As I was taking these photos and stinking of indolence and leisure, the Sand City Popo rolled up hard. Apparently the police station is on the other side of the park. That puts a damper on Fun.


As soon as the igpays had onegay, I headed up that promising trail. ooyahbay.


The traysure was buried deep. My 1st thought was "I hope these clumps I'm feeling aren't cat shit."


My 2nd thoughts were "Crap! Did they bury a phone book?"






But no, while that would make for an excellent Sleaze Otter prize, it was not a phone book.




It was a swanky simulated leather pannier full of Goodness! Whoa. This has to be the single finest cache ever.



Here's to a fine spot, well chosen. A hidden oasis of calm degeneracy amid the fluttering chaos of Modern America. I lorded it over the squares rushing past my poor man's Shangri La and they didn't even know it.



This was an especially welcome cache, too, because I was dilly dallying about with no plans to ride, and shaking my legs out after yesterday's cramp-inducing roundy round was a good call.




After all this pushing heavy bikes around, the cross bike felt like flying. Here it is at the top of that one spot near some indigenous Douglas Irises.





If you were sitting here and looked back up the trail, the second tall boy would be that glint in the bushes.

Just so you know.


I even made it home before the rain began in earnest.



The Goods: fancy mystery pannier+rain cover, 2 Tecate tall boys, a "modest" sized yellow cock ring, a politely phrased sticker of Truth, and the most hideously ridiculous pair of flip flops/leg warmers evar.

I'll try not to let this go to my head.

37 - A City Made of Sand

Are you even allowed within 500 ft of one of theses?

quit fucking around

new name of my bike; onward and upward

ooh that's a nice log, bet there's some buried traysure on its north end

West

South

North

oh so goodiez

DO take time to soak in the beautiful ocean view, and the forty million cars going fast to nowhere important