I groggily reached for my alarm clock, slapping my hand around the bedside table until my
fingers eventually found the off-switch. What time was it? Somewhere between too early and silly o’clock. Slithering out of bed, I managed to work my way into a pair of swim trunks, and packed a bag. To my dismay, when I got to the lobby of my residence hall, I found out that I was the first one ready. After what seemed like hours, the rest of the group showed up, we squeezed into our cars, and we were off. My attention span began to exceed more than two seconds, as caffeine began to take over my bloodstream. My eyes wandered over to the GPS, next stop: Woodlands Park—estimated time remaining, 2.5 hours. Actual time, accounting for a dysfunctional driving duo, and an “emergency” stop by one of our passengers, so that she can pet her dog? Around 4 hours, 20 minutes.
Anxious from an unnecessarily lengthy car-ride, we all tumbled out of the car the second the gear was put in park. Once our legs had awoken from their naps, we began our walk through a gorge-valley. Following an extremely grueling and strenuous 15 minute walk overland, we
ended up at the top of a dramatic hill—our destination waiting for us at the bottom. Upon getting to the bottom of the hill, I set up my camera at the edge of the little pool of water, and waited for my friends to climb the cliff. Just as quickly as they climbed up there, one-by-one they all fell, crashing into the water after 40 feet of free-fall. It was soon my turn, once their heads bobbed out of the water with their voices whoop-ing and hollering, so I made the climb to the cliff’s edge. It became apparent to me rather quickly how high 40 feet actually was as i gazed over the cliff into the water, and started to develop a case of acute vertigo. However, this was no time to be a chicken. I counted down from 3, and threw myself from the cliff. The next thing I knew, I was trying to find my breath in the frigid water, as I surfaced to the clapping of my friends. We jumped, and leapt, and cannon-balled, until we got our fill of adrenaline, and then decided it was a good idea for a lunch break, at 4 p.m.
I wasn’t assigned to the “food fetching” team, and made the decision to use my time to take a wander around the valley.
I eventually found an interesting indent in the rock face. Upon closer inspection, I notice a Folger’s Coffee can, hidden by rocks that had been blatantly placed there. So I did what anyone would do, and opened the can, discovering that it was, indeed, a Geo-Cache. For those who don’t know what a Geo-Cache is, it’s essentially a piece of “buried treasure” which someone hides, and then posts the coordinates to online. Luckily enough, I just happened to stumble upon it without a GPS, and had the privilege of looking through a 9-year-old Geo-Cache, and its log-book of all the people who had found it. After I showed the group my discovery, we logged ourselves into the book, and put it away. Following a lengthy “lunch” we decided it was getting late, and left our newfound Paradise, Cove—and made motion en direction back to Boulder.
A successful day with good company eventually came to a successful end, as we all arrived Boulder in a timely fashion (there were different drivers on the way back), safe and sound.
Until next time.