People who know me just a little bit realize that I am totally OCD about Geocaching. Its almost like breathing. I can go without for a while but I have to get some air every now and then. What a lot of people don’t know is that I have a lot of Irish in me from my Mother. She took a lot of pride in it, and so do I. But there is a lot more to being Irish than getting roaring drunk on Saint Patrick’s Day. You have to honor the other traditions, even when geocaching.

Saturday I went out to find some caches. I found nine, which is a good day for me. The first one I found was a tiny little tube tied to a tree out in the middle of nowhere.

Do you see it? Took me a while to spot it. I’m kind of proud of it because it was my 800th find!

Geocaching has its hazards. Saturday, I encountered ticks, chiggers, thorns, and poison ivy. I’m not allergic to poison ivy, yet.

Poison ivy is nothing to mess with! I am careful with it, even though I’m not allergic to it. Because you can get an allergy all the sudden.

I didn’t see any snakes although I’m pretty sure some saw me in the waist high grass, swamps, and brush I encountered. I didn’t run into any angry ranchers or farmers, or meth lab operators for that matter.

I did stumble onto something that gave me pause, that made me say, “I’m backing out of here really slow, I am not messing with anything, I’m P&A’ing (plugging and abandoning to us oilfield trash) this cache. I just want to get out of here in one piece.” It was a hazard that geocachers with Irish blood know and respect.