The geocache

3/25/18 - this is based on the events of two/three weeks ago. -- it is an unfinished account, but a good stopping place.

The Geocache

"I need to stop and take a break," I said. "If my legs don't give out, my kidneys are going to. We should stop and drink some water."

"Just a little farther," Cayce said. "There's a geocache up ahead and I want us to put our names inside the bottle."

When I called her to come hiking with me, I should have known we could never just "go hiking." With Cayce there was always a plan, a destination. Hiking by myself, I would freely roam the wilderness, walking down the old riverbeds looking for neat rocks I could collect in my backpack, turning this way and that as I noticed one thing or another that caught my attention and drew me into peculiar places I imagined had not been visited in ages. I would often stop at those places and rest, taking in the birdsong and the squirrel chirp and the occasional roar of a mountain cat - a rejuvenating experience.

I was not being rejuvenated today. I was being drained, slowly. My legs strained to grip the earth, each step up the mountainside becoming a chore. It seemed that to Cayce the only appropriate place to stop and enjoy nature was at a man-made deposit marked on a map.

"I'm serious, Cayce. I'm stopping right here."

"See that tree at the top of this ridge? I'm pretty sure that's where the geocache is. It's within sight, so let's keep going."

I didn't feel like arguing, and it was only a little further, so I propelled my burning legs forward and, sure enough, Cayce had a metal canister in her hand when I reached the ridge summit. I collapsed at the base of the tree, swung my backpack unto my lap, and scrounged inside for a water bottle. The cool drink of water was immediately soothing to my dry, itchy throat.

"JOHN!" Cayce exclaimed. I looked up at her, worried. She had a paper in her hand which I assumed was the fabled list of hikers like ourselves that had found the geocache.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's a suicide note!" She said.

At that, I startled, moving my backpack quickly to the side and closing the short gap between us until I was pressed up against her back, reading over her shoulder.