High-tech trekkies
'Geocachers' wired by
thrill of the chase
By LAUREEN FAGAN
Tribune Staff Writer
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Peter and Maureen
Metcalf of South Bend display the "treasures" contained in
their cache.
Tribune Photo/SHAYNA BRESLIN
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NAPERVILLE, Ill.
They took "the road less traveled."
That was the main clue offered to Wil Zambole and David Willmore as they
trekked through the woods, searching for treasure in suburban Chicago's
Blackwell Forest Preserve.
Or maybe that should be "teched" through the woods.
The pair use hand-held global-positioning system devices when they spend
weekends "geocaching."
That's a new word for a new world of high-tech scavenger hunts, where
GPS coordinates replace maps and cryptic clues and secret stash sites are
listed on the Internet.
In Potato Creek State Park, for example. Somewhere in the mud near
Wakarusa. Over at Chain O' Lakes. Up at Warren Woods Aviary, down at Purdue
University in Lafayette.
Geocaching fever seems to be sweeping across the Michiana region, as it
is across much of the nation.
Maybe it's the adventure. Maybe it's the thrill of the chase. Maybe it's
just the chance to play with a fun toy.
It certainly can't be the "treasure," which usually consists
of a few trinkets to reflect the personality or interests of the people who
placed them.
"There's just something about something being hidden that nobody
else knows about," said Willmore, a 30-year-old computer engineer from
Wheeling known only by his "Lost in the Woods" screen name to
Zambole and his other online friends.
Until they met at 41 degrees 49.989 minutes north latitude and 88
degrees 10.209 minutes west longitude -- otherwise known as the picnic
site, where about 60 geocachers from the region gathered to celebrate their
new American pastime.
"What are we missing? What are we not seeing?" asked Zambole,
a math teacher from Addison whose skills occasionally help him decipher
clues -- as in "look for the right triangle," one shaped by
fallen trees along the trail.
But he was momentarily stymied.
"Uh, the cache," Willmore deadpanned, as he scrutinized the
sun-dappled leaves and twigs at his feet.
So. Maybe he really was lost in the woods. But not for long.
"Found it!"
High-tech tools, simple rules
Bryan Midgely of Naperville frequents South Bend when he comes here to
visit his brothers, Matt and Tom. But these days, he spends a lot of time
geocaching with his 5-year-old daughter, Alyson.
"When I first got a GPS, I thought it was a great way to get
exercise and do something with the kids," he said. "It's been a
catalyst to go visit places we wouldn't otherwise have gone."
Midgely and Kelly Markwell, also of suburban Chicago, planned the picnic
for the GPS enthusiasts.
"We've got toddlers and grandmothers," Markwell said. "Young
people do it, old people do it, people with babies in backpacks do
it."
Which is all the more remarkable because little more than a year ago,
geocaching didn't even exist.
The word entered the lexicon last May, when the accuracy for consumer
GPS devices improved from reading a range of 100 yards to pinpointing a
location within a few feet.
Before that time, a stronger GPS signal was available to the military,
but it was degraded for civilian use.
Once the Clinton administration lifted the selective availability
requirement, it wasn't long before someone figured out a new way to use the
personal GPS receivers, which retail for about $120 and up.
"It got started outside Portland," said Jeremy Irish, a
Seattle-area man who now maintains the game's main database at
geocaching.com.
From that first Portland site, geocaching has spread to include 3,500
caches hidden in 55 nations, he said.
On the Web site, people can register a cache they've hidden, usually in
an inexpensive waterproof container. Some are located in urban settings,
but most are designed to attract people to the great outdoors.
"The rules are pretty simple," Irish said. When you find the
cache, you take something from it and you leave something of your own.
You sign the logbook to let the owner know who's visited, when they
came, what they exchanged, and where they're from.
Owners create intriguing names for their caches, post the
"waypoint" coordinates for their site, offer a few clues and
assign it a degree-of-difficulty rating.
That can be important information. Some caches require special skills or
equipment, like rock-climbing expertise or scuba diving gear. Some involve
arduous hikes over difficult terrain.
Even mundane warnings about taking along insect repellent or extra water
help. And as more families get involved in geocaching, it's good to know
what's a suitable search for children or older, retired couples.
The Internet site also serves as a way for people to post what they've
found and comment on the experience -- the beautiful view, the history
behind the item they've left, the sticker bushes they encountered.
But many notes are in the log. And they aren't always from geocachers.
Take this entry from a mystified mushroom hunter, for example.
May 7. Potato Creek State Park.
"I didn't know what this case was," begins the log entry.
"Took home, brought it back. Saw it was a pretty neat and fun thing to
do.
"Kept the mug, put in a book of poems and a veterans' flag
sticker."
Local enthusiasm on the rise
For Peter Metcalf, 59, of South Bend, it's almost more interesting to
read his own log as it is to search for other people's caches and sign
them.
Metcalf, who stashed the Potato Creek box -- one that has since been
moved -- wasn't the first to hide a cache in the region.
That distinction, as far as we know, belongs to 31-year-old Paul Pearson
(aka Wandrer) of Elkhart, who placed his cache in October.
"There've been two or three that I've hidden," Pearson said.
"Some are as far away as Fort Wayne."
And he doesn't even own a GPS device, he said. He started going to spend
outdoor time with his dad and enjoyed day trips to the area's exotic
cache-locales so much that -- like Metcalf -- he wanted to create the
experience for other people, too.
"It's nice to travel to some place I never would have traveled to
before," said Pearson. "Potato Creek State Park, I never would
have gone (there) except for the cache placed there."
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Geocaching enthusiast
David Willmore checks his global-positioning system device as he tries to
find a hidden "cache" in the Blackwell Forest Preserve near
Chicago.
Tribune Photo/LAUREEN FAGAN
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Metcalf enjoyed finding evidence of Pearson's travels, as well as the
flag left by unidentified visiting Canadians and the photos and Poland
stickers left by South Bend resident Wendy Haluda.
Who also doesn't own a GPS.
"My older sister in Chicago, she goes out all the time,"
Haluda said.
"She came into town and said there was a geocache in (the
park)."
And so off went the 28-year-old Haluda, her mother, two sisters and a
young niece and nephew.
"She bought this (GPS) to do this 'cause her friends got her
involved in this," Haluda said. "They've pretty much gone all
over the country 'cause they take a lot of trips."
For some families, the initial cost of the GPS device, anywhere from
$150 to $350, seems a lot. But when they consider the expense of a day at
the amusement park or even one ballgame, it doesn't seem so prohibitive
anymore -- and they're having fun together, getting more fit and keeping
the kids away from TV.
"The little boy thought it was really cool," Haluda said.
"It was totally awesome when we found it."
Unlike his "geoguests," Metcalf had never heard of geocaching
when he asked his wife, Maureen, for a GPS device at Christmas.
"I don't know how I'm ever going to top that gift," she said,
laughing about her husband's "techie" ways.
Next thing she knew, they were geocachers -- with camping and day trips
that offer equal time to his GPS hobby and her interest in crafts.
"We went to Purdue first and found the cache, and we were so proud
of ourselves," she said.
"And I enjoy getting the caches together, doing all of our Notre
Dame Irish trademarks."
Geocaching across the planet
The Metcalfs, who are both employed in the University of Notre Dame
chemistry department, aren't the only ones to use a theme when creating
their own caches.
In California, San Jose geocacher Ed Hall said he has alphabetized his
series of locations by taking a page from mystery writer Sue Grafton.
The most recent book in her series is "P is for Peril." When
Hall names his caches, "A" is for alum, "B" is for beachhead,
"C" is for cave dweller.
But for many geocachers, "A" is for "Apes" -- and
Hall said he is one of the lucky few to find one of the "Planet of the
Apes" movie props, hidden in a series of geocaches around the world as
a promotion for 20th-Century Fox's upcoming movie.
Every Friday morning, the studio posts the coordinates of that week's
location, be it in Brazil, Japan or the United States. One week, the site
was in Mount Diablo State Park, not too far from Hall's office.
"So I took a long lunch," he said.
Sure enough, there was a heavy, oversize, elaborately
designed spoon, complete with a "Planet of the Apes"
certificate of authenticity.
"Now I'll have to look for some kind of dining scene," said Hall,
who operates the brillig.com/geocaching site, itself a veritable
treasure-trove of the globe's mapped cache sites.
"I don't know. I like gadgets," confessed Hall, who sounded a
lot like Metcalf as he described his way of combining "techie"
interests with a love of maps and the outdoors.
"I always liked the concept of a GPS unit, though I never had any
reason to need one until now.
"But the idea to go out on a treasure hunt -- well, who didn't read
'Treasure Island'? With a map and an X on it? And now, you can do that
every weekend."
Caching vs. "geoconsequences"
The afternoon seemed well-spent in the Blackwell Forest Preserve, as
Zambole and Willmore -- fresh from the Tupperware-container hunt --
meandered around the lake.
"What's unusual, here, is to find these great hidden places in an
urban setting," Zambole said. "And the world goes away for a
while."
They admired the natural canopy of trees over the trail and looked to
see what kind of fish were jumping.
They appreciated the lone Spanish classical guitarist, whose serene
sounds hovered over the waters.
And they acknowledged that maybe not everyone -- especially those in
park administration -- appreciates the geocachers in return.
Markwell and Midgely, working with their DuPage County Park District,
arranged permission for the geocaching picnic and cache hunts as a special
one-day event.
"We met with them about a month ago, and they see it as a benefit,
to get foot traffic in the park," Midgely said. "So far, the
dialogue has been really good."
In his unofficial "rules," Irish has urged GPS enthusiasts to
avoid placing caches on private property without permission and to
cooperate with public officials about park land.
The cachers are also reminded to protect fragile environmental areas and
to adhere to the "cache in, trash out" policy by taking along a
bag and cleaning the park while geocaching.
But most national and state parks have rules, too -- rules about being
off the trails or about abandoning property in the park -- that geocachers
violate, however unintentionally.
Those rules apply in Indiana and Michigan state parks, where officials
say they are designed to protect the public and the environment.
"Our mission is to protect the natural areas for people to use, not
for people to have places to have paintball games, or whatever," said
John Bergman, Indiana's assistant director of field operations for the
Department of Natural Resources.
"Sometimes, our mission conflicts with what people want to
do."
Bergman said he is unfamiliar with geocaching activities and has not
received any complaints from park managers or the public.
"The department does not have a position on geocaching,"
Bergman said. "Some of this activity may violate existing regulations,
and some of it may not."
But GPS enthusiasts insist that they respect the environment and raise
awareness of its incalculable value. They use care and common sense, and
actually widen the circle of people who enjoy the outdoors.
Some of them even consider their "road less traveled" to be a
new sport, one that will expand in the future and include new games and
activities based on the GPS technology.
"It's like golf," Zambole explained.
"Except it's a shorter walk, with less anger."
Staff writer Laureen Fagan:
lfagan@sbtinfo.com
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