#5 only tattered remnants

I took some lumps for this one.


Like the man do say: "Who's that walking over my bridge?"

So, I am thinking the cardboard sleeping pad under the footbridge should have been a give away, but there is a troll under there.

I found this out when I grabbed the cache and saw it was opened and upright (I guess the troll wanted to allow maximum water access) and minus a beer(s)!



So here is what made it through the night, so to speak. I guess it is nice that the troll left anything, huh?

And, I can now admit that I had previously thought it was at the intersection of Franklin and Artillery (due to not doing my own research but relying on the garbled retelling of a hungover lady), and when looking for it the other day, I climbed Franklin on the fixed wheel bicycle, and that was hot and tuff, only to be denied entry at the gate to the Presidio. So, being "tricky" I attempted to skirt the perimeter towards Veteran's Park, and stay high so I could zip into PG and win.
Well, it made sense at the time.
That sucked and did not pan out, and all I can say positive about it was that I did not contract Poison Oak Poisoning and the Presidio does a fairly good job of keeping their fence line brush free. Fairly.

Anyways- how awesome to finally find a cache!

#6

Hurry! Before something crawls out of the murky depths and nabs it. That, or some sleazy trysting housewife allows her dumb Irish Setter to run wild while she is running wild, so to speak, and the dog eats it. Or...





The contents of this package will improve your tiny life immeasurably! GO!

#1 put out of its misery

For the second Friday in a row, I decided to brave Aguajito Canyon to retrieve a cache, with an accomplice in tow. This time the target was the elusive (but for lack of trying) #1. Again, hill climbing is best done in Carhardt's, boots on top of clipless pedals, and with a 20 lb backpack full of hydrology books. I need one of those SUPER-long water bottles, some bar ends, and a plastic bag tied around my seat, then I'll truly be pro tier. Fuck it....gimme a gel seat cover too....I deserve it!

Somethings missing....hmm, how about a 2 inch drywall screw in the old tire for old times' sake? Feels good, man. Quick change and on our way.

And once AGAIN, I failed to photo-document the cache with a bike. In fact, this time I took it a step further and forgot to take any pictures whatsoever. But I remembered as I was pulling into my driveway, which counts for something...right?

Anyway, here's an artist's rendering of the site, and how shit went down, pretty much:

And the loot, splayed out like a sack of walleyes, with my little buddy John Henry for scale at the bottom:

Between this, cache #2, and Sleaze Otter I am set to dominate the forthcoming sticker-based economy, and bitter beer face is a thing of the past. But, I am most excited about the Maillard Helicomatic tool. Hi welcome to my garage and workspace.....oh, what's that you ask, what is that obscure tool? Oh, you wouldn't know that, it's for SERIOUS mechanics. I could explain but I'd hate to perma-furl your brow. Why don't you just use it to open your beverage, simpleton.

#5

How many feathers are on a Perdue chicken?
What does "touche et lele pu" mean?

And more importantly, do YOU:

-have a gaping hole in your music collection where "songs about trucks, little white pills, and poor little crippled boys" ought to be?
-lose sleep about what the next gel flavor that GU ought to bring to market is?
-identify as a one-armed unicyclist?

If the answer to any of these is YES then cache #5 is what you were borned for. GIT ta GITTIN!

Hey, it's an obelisk!

Warmer, like a summer's breeze or a pants peed

Prize!

#3 FOUND!

Whats another name for pirate treasure? Well I (and I am a professor) think its BOOTY!



Ya peninsula bitches....VelcoCache Monterey #3 is dead. Which is fitting, since it was hidden in The San Carlos Cemetery .
Picked it up on the way into work....





































Actually, I'm shocked it was still there, considering it was simply sitting behind a small headstone, there were a bunch of groundskeepers out and I know the cemetery is often a hangout for homeless/angst filled youth.

Rolled into the office to covet my find....oooooh I wonder what's inside?



















No pet meds (bummer!) but not a bad haul for a 5 minute detour! Lunch (PBR and the tootsie pop), headgear, bottle opener (can never have enough), window dressing for the office and not only a front brake but an allen key to install it...how thoughtful!



















I'd like to thank Inspector Javert for getting the fun rolling .... I've got to admit I felt a little weird poking around a Catholic Cemetery, being of an "alternate lifestyle" and all, but I brought along a copy of the Nostra Aetate, just in case.

I think its about time someone else does some hidin'. So the inspector can join the fun.

#2 Found and promptly hard-boiled

Friday. 4 pm. The kind of hour that working stiffs the world over dream about all week long. Not me though. You don't stay in the private dick racket by taking weekends off, and you sure as hell don't look forward to idle time when you got problems like mine. Alimony, taxes, high-arched feet....you name it, I've lived it...twice. Not to mention Inspector Javert has been breathing down my neck all week about my lack of progress. I'd like to see him handle some of these mugs I'm trailing. Can't wait for the day I give ol' Oney his.

4:15 the phone rings. I stub out my cigarette into the overflowing coffee can and pick it up. Frantic voice on the line.....something about an underpass and a bad man with a bad plan....and a dame. Dammit it sounds like a setup, but I'm a sucker for the dames. One of these days they'll be the death of me, but not today. I gotta get even before I get dead.

I hop on my clunker and head up the ravine. Aguajito is a mess, rich people driving around in nice cars. Should have been my first sign to turn around. These kind of people shouldn't be here. Not now.

I get to the first bridge, right before the hospital, and a hunch tells me I'm about to drum up some business. Underneath the bridge something catches my eye. A plastic bag. I've seen this before, and I swore I could smell that scorched motor oil.

A closer look and it wasn't a body. But what it was sent chills down my spine. What kind of a sick fuck leaves moldy garlic bread for me to find? Where's the dame? And why do I kind of want pasta for supper?

On to the second bridge, where I knew it was Showdown City. I parked the Cross-Check out of site and tipped my bicyling helmet squash hat to cover my face. Something in the same bridge corner as the garlic bread grabbed my eye. A closer look.......and there she was! The dame looked a little roughed up, but was double bagged (our man is a confirmed Safeway shopper), and most importantly had beers.

Some days I don't even know what side I'm on anymore, but once in awhile, for that slimmest of moments, I remember how I got into this mess in the first place. Big things. Things like Justice. Dames. Cycling. Screaming down hwy 68 with yahoos driving the shoulders through corners. So if you see me out there, say a little prayer for me. And God help the day that comes when I finally catch the cat that's been shitting in my garden.

#4

And here I go again on my own
Goin' down the only road I've ever known
Like a drifter I was born to [bike] alone
And I've made up my mind
I ain't wasting no more time...

I'm sorry I had to do that to you. Perhaps it will inspire you to get off your computer and go ride your bike, softy.








If you accidentally find other beers cached there, LEAVE THEM ALONE!!!! or else. They are a separate cache and are not in play.

Also, if you have the faintest inkling of where this is and you don't go there, you should never come here again. You cannot have anything other than a kickass ride to this spot no matter how you...GO!