#48...found

Bekahsaurus and Captain Fox finally found our first velocache!

{editor's note:WELCOME NEWCOMERS!}




We saw the chalk writing in the bunker by the beach in Oct. and we've been keeping an eye online since.
Knew where one was but my bike was out of commission so couldn't get it.

We set out for CSUMB because the frat clue and the Frolf goal.
I had an idea where it might be and I figured I'd see the wire structures.


Sure enough, off in the distance I see the big Z above the trees.




{editor's note: LOL at the exact photo op...how was the oak?}



{editor's note: captain Fox, we assume?}




{editor's note: DANG! I would love to have some explosive power. I slept on this one too long...}
The beers were ice cold and the M80s will be put to good use.



We're getting a velocache ready, but having trouble deciding where to put it.
{editor's note: put it someplace cool we don't know about}

#48: Obviously, you're not a frolfer

So I went out on Tuesday morning to plant a velocache, and the weather was all like this:

But......it was all for naught b/c my camera had no memory card in it, so I had to do the same ride this morning, when the weather was all like this:

 When Posdnuos said "woe is me, to the third degree" he was clearly talking about me.

On to the velocache......

I was too busy looking at my wet feet to see this huge hawk before it took off

good place to rest a bike

Medieval torture garden? Probably

Frat house discovers letters; you can discover treasure in the woods to the west

view from above, looking west

optional slack line, ride your bike here for an extra velobuck

hidden treasure

make sure to get REAL familiar with the poison oak from this viewpoint. exact picture or it doesn't count

#46 smells like Palladium

After 2 weeks expectorating on the couch, your cheerful correspondent made his way up to the highway that divides Monterey Bay's really rich people from the only kind of rich people.

Despite the warnings, no punk-ass bitches were located. Just a not much worse for the wear cache.  Inquiring minds want to know how many people drove past this treasure without knowing what valuable goods were within arm's reach from their car window.

Ready to cough all of the way down the hill

Do as The Man says

Treasures abound, some (used?) bib shorts, various bits and stickers, fine literature, HAMMer gel, and the most godawful smelling mini-stove I've ever smelled.  I think the stove may have been aged in the bowels of Monterey.

#47 let you see how it feels

...yes, you.














Super stealth singletrack. Short but sweet. You should know about it.









That sword type arty arrangement be pointing the way.


This triangle bit has nothing to do with it, but it is noticeable. Makes a nice back rest.

#46...this one goes out to my niggas

who be havin to deal with these punk-ass bitches:



42% of automobile operators have 50% of their attention on the road. Be careful out there.



Git to gittin!

#44 you can lead a whore to culture...

but you cannot make her think.
-Dorothy Parker, upon being asked to use the word "horticulture" in a sentence.




No, this does not match the big picture.




This does not, either.





Kind of. You can see the cache.




Suck it.




The goods. All waterproofed an shit. Good thing, since they were out there for 3 weeks.





This trail was part and parcel, up and down. Though you could have gone another way.

WELCOME NEWCOMERS! Good job, M___ S_____.

45 are PM zoned

In your face!




I's out, you know- riding, enjoying the moooonlight when I won this one. Fort Ord was feeling...off. I headed out to the Caprock via fireroad only(?!?) and back out the same way.

0% trails.

For whatever reason, it was skeery. So I kicked myself on back into town headed home, before (stopped in the graveyard for a, um, breather) remembering the velocache.
Renewed purpose!
I headed towards the wharf for orientation. Kooks on bikes. Figuring this had to be up in the Presidio, I poked my way in that direction...


Stopped here for phone checking, all unawares...

because I wanted to get a photo of the effed up "bike route" that I'd just tried, thinking that A) I could maybe get into the Presidio thataway and B) there's no way it would just be a way to kill off cyclists by routing them directly into traffic on a blind corner. My bads.

On heading up the hill from the parking structure, I spied 2 cyclists (by their blinky lights) whom I then followed to the sneaky bridge/walkway that I'd been on only 1 time before and axed them ?s about statues of Junipero Serras and boats. They weren't innerested in talking to me or having me around at all, and I was left to wonder if I was drunker than I thought or possibly just a creep. But, upon reflection they were simply dicks.

"Just because we both ride bikes doesn't mean we're friends" indeed.

Anyhow, I found the statue opposite the Civil War reenactor camp, and was forced to search the (several) likely trees with out lights due to paranoia. Finally, in the last tree I gave up and used my light (I had become angry and frustrated by this point) only to spy a (some would say purposefully) obscure tube with a familiar word printed on it.



It was a picture of the very walkway over which I'd just ridden. It had some inscrutable words upon it to the effect that I'd been duped. RErouted. Excellently sneaky. Well played. I have had several reasons to doubt this hider's clues/grasp of reality/dedication...but never again. This cache was awesome.


Sure enough, in the likeliest place, there was the actual goods. All in all a very tubular cache. A tallboybottle of Spirit of the Hawk, a steel water bottle (used and still containing the dregs of it's last load- classy!), a long slim box of a chocolate rose, and an autographed! rolled up copy of "Poetry and other crimes...by: SEAMAS(sic?) NAVARRO. (All poems, stories, and tribal art COPYRIGHT 2000-2011, by SEAMAS (sic?) NAVARRO- So don't even THINK of fucking with this shit! All rights reserved)"

Whoa. An example?

GOD IS LOVE
Who can speak of what the wind has heard?
Has snached (sic) away greedly (sic)?
Or the rights and wrongs
the merry brook saw on its (sic) musical journey
to the sea?
Is the cold comforted
by the warmth?
Is that why its (sic) such a thief?
And does the heat heal
from its (sic) sweat,
at the sigh of the suns (sic)
last wink?

If everythings (sic) connected
through threads of LOVE
and yes, even pain,
and from these strands we all mature
then hope is all the same.
It hurts to know that hurt will come, but think, how we hurt GOD too,
when we hate in spite of HIS LOVE
and yet, HE LOVES us true.
If GOD is LOVE and LOVE is patient,
and LOVES us,
for all our faults, then strive to forgive
as HE LOVES
in the face,
of when all go's (sic) wrong: LOVE UNDER FIRE.
COPYRIGHT 2011
SEAMAS (sic?) NAVARRO



I opened the Eye of the Hawk's Spirit of the Hawk 40oz. like a OG on my pedal, and posted up hella hard under the bridge downtown to drink the chewy brew whilst watching traffic roll by and reading bad poetry like a troll. Or maybe SEAMAS NAVARRO.



Whatever. Don't even THINK of fucking with this shit.

45 - get it while it's dry

Based on a true story

Go here. Ignore the used rubber on the ground.

looking eastish

look up

warnung

PSA to follow.



Sometimes you just need a little help.



Soooooo. If you find yourself lost/sober/in need of repairs and you know where this is...you, my friend, are in luck.

#44. Beauty, eh?

Take off, hoser. If you, like, ride your bike then a Good Time is guaranteed.



This is looking towards the Great White North, eh?




And, like, those of you who rode the Sleaze Otter will totally know where this is.




OK, so there is a velocache, like, secreted in there. You should get it. There is a beauty trail coming down from there, and you could take that.


All this because there is a Strange Brew in there...





...but Traffic is better than Cream.