Some of my best memories of these past several years were with Karen and our geocaching adventures.  We laughed, we cried, we cussed, we argued, we laughed some more, and we solved the world’s problems.  We stepped on bees, ants, and a variety of “piles.”  We found ourselves in some of the most interesting places…..

It all started with a casual conversation at one of Mike and Karen’s many (fun-filled) bar-b-ques.  A co-worker of mine had mentioned this new online geocaching hobby that she found interesting, so Karen and I decided to look into it.  Of course, our first attempts at finding caches were local, and we often laughed at what our “slug trail” must look like from outer space – it took awhile to figure out how to use our new GPSs.  Before long we were heading out for overnighters in new territory.

Our travels took us to some very interesting places.  A great weekend (twice) to Long Beach, up the Columbia River, way up in the logging roads everywhere, and bicycling at Fort Stevens.  We were in one of the batteries there and we found a cache that was up in a rafter where we couldn’t reach it.  Rather than just log it as a find, Karen insisted we go to the ranger and get a ladder (which we did).  Come to find out, the ranger didn’t know anything about the cache – or about geocaching – and probably thought “here are a couple ol’ crazy ladies, wanting to what?”  We got the cache down (the ranger insisted on climbing the ladder) and when we opened the cache full of silly trinkets and started shuffling through, I’m sure the ranger’s earlier thoughts were confirmed.  But by golly we got our smiley face.

We also had trips to Longview, Port Townsend and Vashon Island.  There are no hotels on Vashon, so we rented a funky little cabin from an interesting “artistic” man, whose own house was full of interesting “artwork.” Yea…it took us quite a while to get out of there – Karen took in each one and discussed it with our new landlord.   She had an honest appreciation of all types of art - sometimes I wished I had the same love for art as she did.  The cabin didn’t have hot water, and the t.v. didn’t come in, but we had a hoot of a time anyway.

We even went so far as to go to the “Geocaching Convention” at the Seattle Center.  Then we wondered what in the world we were thinking!  Hunting for caches in the city was an experience all by itself – normally people would look at you funny if you go poking around in odd places.  Not so in downtown Seattle.

Karen’s nickname was “pitbull” because she would seldom give up on the search.  I’d say “okay….maybe we should forget this one” and she’d say “No!  I know it’s here somewhere!”  And sure enough, 9 times out of 10 we’d end up finding it.  Karen called me “mountain goat” because I was willing to (or attempt to) climb the hills and cross skimpy bridges that she was otherwise not comfortable with.   On the other hand, Karen was willing to go into dark tunnels and stick her hand into places I wasn’t even sure I wanted to stick a stick into.  So we “geocomplimented” each other.

How many times were we hiking along , I’d be in the lead, talking away about something, waiting for a response from Karen, only to turn around and find her stopped somewhere, either analyzing a plant or taking a picture?  This was a big part of who she was, and I appreciated the reminders to “stop and smell the roses.”  I also appreciated her ability to notice the nettles, or poison oak!  And her pictures always did a great job of capturing the moments.

With hours in the car, Karen and I had hours of dialogue.  She wasn’t much for small talk – Karen was for lots-of-talk.  In addition to solving world problems, we got to know each other’s lives pretty well.  She never hesitated to ask how the kids were and what they were up to – she genuinely cared about them and their well-being – and followed their life’s sagas.  She also spoke of Brittany and Jackie as if they were her own children, and how much fun she had with Lucy and Thor.   And she would tell her stories of her hubby (referred to as either Mike Ferry or Michael) and his family with a fondness and love that couldn’t be hidden, as well as of her brother and her friends – both here and back in Idaho.

The thing that would get Karen riled up the most was the litter that we found in so many otherwise beautiful places.  The Port of Grays Harbor land was the worst, and Karen went so far as to make a formal complaint.  We often would pick up garbage (Karen would carry bags just for that).  She also took it upon herself to clean up wet/dirty caches, and replenish their contents.

And what about those contents?  Karen was drawn to collecting little figures – especially animals - and just unique “stuff.”   I tended toward the little die cast cars.  Sometimes we would both have what we knew the other might like in our stash of trading items, so when we would find a cache, get ready to trade, pull out our stash, we would end up trading with each other.  Then, of course, laugh about how silly it all was.  Not long ago Karen gave me all her little dog figurines and I will cherish that little collection.

Over the years Karen and I found close to 1000 caches and every one has some sort of story.   The last were just a couple of months ago when we grabbed a few new local hides (after having breakfast at the Tokeland Hotel – eating out was another important part of our travels).  One was “hidden” under a chair on a porch, and Karen (being a bit bolder than I) followed her GPS right to it not blinking an eye.   I was twitching a bit – not the usual place one would find a cache – and questioned Karen whether it really was it.  About then he owner came out and said “can I help you?” and then seeing Karen with the amo box simply said “oh yea – the cache” and went back inside.  Karen just looked at me and grinned.

These memories will be kept close to my heart and I will miss Karen terribly.  I can honestly say I am a better person because of Karen, and feel so lucky to have had her in my life.  My plan is to create a cache, “Karen’s Cache,” in her honor, and vow to keep it clean (and the ground around it) and full of worthy “treasure” (as she would call it).  Rest peacefully, my friend, and as heard many times from Karen at the parting of our ways….“see ya.”