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Geocaching
TwP writes: "Looking for something to do with your GPS receiver besides finding your car in the grocery store parking lot? Try Geocaching. The idea is simple: take some item and hide it somewhere in the world, record the latitude and longitude using your GPS receiver, post the location to the Web so that others can find your stash. Most people leave a five gallon plastic bucket with a few items inside and a logbook. When someone finds the bucket they take an item, leave an item, and sign the logbook. Take a look at the original (read "non-pretty") page."
For a good time, meet me at Latitude 38 34" 16' N, 98 56" 23' W. Caw like a raven twice.
...a GPS with at least 1m accuracy, so I can note where I left stuff around here.
/.
/. If the government wants us to respect the law, it should set a better example.
An AIDS infected syringe wont stay AIDS infected for long once outside the body, and time between geocache visits would probably(?) be measured in weeks not hours. (Also, unless I had AIDS, I wouldn't want to play with AIDS infected needles when constructing public area booby traps)
That aside, ruling out your example scenario obviously doesn't rule out your underlying concern so I'll have a shot at that too.
Now why would somebody do that? Presumably they get a kick out of knowing they've completely fucked up the life of someone they'll never meet - or something along those lines.
If this is their motivation, then why would they wait until Geocaching to satisfy it? They could string piano wire accross a downhill section of a cycle path at neck height at night, they could pour arsenic into the town drinking water, they could release the front wheel quick-release of bikes parked in a bike stand (this has happened to me), they could snip the break cable of a car while the owners are camping, they could smear cyanide on a stairway banister rail...
If you want to make yourself safe from all the hypothetical things sick-fucks could do, then you're going to have to pull out of life.
Feel safer?
The stuff of urban legends, I know, but there's still a lot of strange people out there.
(Funniest bit of all: we're all into server and box security. We don't want anyone touching our files or seeing what silly little sites we've been to. But we leave our physical goods out in the open for others to scavenge? :) Talk about mixed up principles).
- I don't care if they globalize against free speech. All my best free thoughts are done in my head.
Another one of these GPS hunts is the degree confluence project. The object is to log integer longtitude/latitude positions with a GPS and to get a picture of that location.
This has been around since the beginning of May when SA was turned off. It evolved from another sport calld 'letterboxing' where they did stuff like this but with maps, compasses, etc.
I've been following the sport for quite a while, right since it started up, and so far theres been next to no problems with 'people walking off with the bucket' so to speak. Some people choose to leave 'prizes' in the bucket, while some choose to leave just a log book. One of the first stashes held a used GPS unit (i guess the guy upgraded and put his old one in the pot). One of my best friends is gonna go plant one in the middle of the desert with a pad and a couple of pens. not every bucket is going to house a pot of gold.
Think about it though... most people aren't going to go on a web site, look up their local area, find a local stash. drive for a half hour to the general area, and spend another hour looking for a small sealed bucket in a relatively well hidden area unless they plan on writing in the log book and following the rules.
The people who fuck shit up like this are the one who find it without knowing what it is. Some jerkoff is going to go chasing after a missed frisbee and find it. come to the conclusion (in a drunken stupor of course) that this thing is full of all neat kinds of goodies! lets steal it!
You dont have to worry about people doing shit like that if you put it in a good place. Dont put them where the average schmoe is going to find it. The only people who will find it then are the ones who WANT to make an effort to find it. And I dont know about you, but i dont know of many people who will waste 3 hours of time just to steal a bucket with some batteries and some MREs.
Just so you know, as i write this, right next to me is a stash. Ive been putting it together for a week. 2gallon bucket. a log book. some extra pens, and some 'goodies' which in total arent worth more than about $10. I spent a couple of hours in a bookstore looking at hiking/backpacking guides, and another two hours scouting sites in the local area. This sucker is probably getting planted later this weekend. There arent any for me to find yet, so I'm going to do MY best in putting one down so someone else can find it.
This used to be called orienteering. Give a person a map and compass, and let them loose. Ever hear of a Brunton compass?
I'm looking for a handful of people who have done this before, and are as geographically diverse as possible, to help me out with a small adjunct to Project Cameo.
If you're interested, please drop me a line at cameo@slash.fury.com.
Thanks!
Kevin Fox
Kevin Fox
Yes, and while I'm locating buckets with my GPS, I may just don my green raincoat, head on over to my local train station and jot some of the train numbers down in my little book. After that, I retire at home with a cup 'o tea and a sarnie and go through my extensive stamp collection. An exilarating game of rummy might be good too.
A slashdotting - you get the stick first and then the carrot !
The Train spotter dons a green anorak and no matter what the weather, heads on over to the local train station to spot trains.
Often the trainspotter takes along a packed lunch in a tuppleware container or wrapped neatly in wax paper. Lunch usually consists of white bread sandwiches with the crusts neatly sliced off.
The excitement mounts as the trainspotter nears his destination, knowing that today is special !
Arriving at the train station, notebook clutched tightly in hand, the trainspotter gets ready for the 8.30am from wigglesmouth, heading to barkleydale - there it goes ! - right on time ! The train spotter jots this down in his little notebook and munches on a sarnie.
Nearby, a crowd of excited youngsters whoop in joy as they find a green bucket !
The trainspotter wonders over to see what all the fuss is about and one of the youngsters starts chattering wildly about his new GPS gadget and how it enables him and his friends to have great fun finding hidden stash !
That's it, cries the trainspotter, my trainspotting days are over, GPS hide and seek is a lot more fun.
He knew this day was going to be special, but had no idea just how extra-ordinary it would be !
Ahh, he sighs, it's a good job those youngsters read slashdot every day !
A slashdotting - you get the stick first and then the carrot !
Hi, I represent CBS, and we already own the rights to "Geo Scavenger Hunt" (tm) and would ask that you refrain from using that trademark in your posts, even though it's completely within your rights, but we don't care because we're a corporation.
The premise is the team that finds all of the items last has to pick someone from the team to strip down naked and run a gauntlet of fly swatters while people line up on each side and shoot them with rubber-band powered paper bullets. The hunts will be repeated until nobody is left on one team.
Mike
"I would kill everyone in this room for a drop of sweet beer."
I am Slimey Lawyer representing Digital Convergence, and you just posted our Intellectual Property to a public forum. We are suing you for $780 million in punitive damages, even though we haven't lost a damned thing but our minds.
"I would kill everyone in this room for a drop of sweet beer."
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--
Wooden armaments to battle your imaginary foes!
[...] The next ten or twelve pages were filled with a curious series of entries. There was a date at one end of the line and at the other a sum of money, as in common account-books; but instead of explanatory writing, only a varying number of crosses between the two. On the 12th of June, 1745, for instance, a sum of seventy pounds had plainly become due to someone, and there was nothing but six crosses to explain the cause. In a few cases, to be sure, the name of a place would be added, as `Offe Caraccas;' or a mere entry of latitude and longitude, as `62 degrees 17' 20", 19 degrees 2' 40".' [...]
Arrr, me mateys, there she lies. 'Neath a Walmart parking lot, where Captain Flint stopped to take a leak!
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