In which our heroes hike a trail; views are enjoyed; a shadowy figure appears.
The boys, hiking in silence, headed westward along the Mountains-To-Sea Trail. This trail runs the entire length of North Carolina from the Great Smoky Mountains in the west, to the Outer Banks along the Atlantic Ocean. Parts of the trail are nice and easy, others are quite rugged. It takes hikers 2 to 3 months to hike the entire length of the trail. Fortunately for the boys they only needed to hike a couple miles of it before it crosses with the Bryson’s Bridge Trail which will take them most of the way up to Burkes Peak. At the end a half mile bushwhack across the rugged country will be required to make it to ground zero.
This section of the trail was surprisingly devoid of people. A few miles east of the trailhead where the boys started their journey, the Mountains-To-Sea trail merges with the Appalachian Trail, the famous trail that runs through 14 states from Georgia to Maine. The trail runs together for several miles before branching off in their respective destinations. Tens of thousands of people hike these trails every year.
Since the fall colours were coming in, it was unusual to not see folks enjoying the trails. The recent rains and early hour must be keeping people away.
This section of the trail was fairly rugged, full of rocks, tree roots, and the occasional small stream crossing. The terrain was hilly, but generally rose uphill. The boys hiked single file, listening to the birds sing, and the rustle of the squirrels in the trees. At one point they paused when a doe and her fawn wandered onto the path and stopped just long enough for Billy to take a photo with his camera, before wandering back into the woods on the far side. Mostly they enjoyed the fresh air and followed the white circular markings on the trees that defined the trail.
Despite the early morning rains, it ended up being an excellent day for a hike. The clouds soon broke, and the sun started shining through the trees. The temperature was a brisk 55 degrees Fahrenheit, and a gentle breeze wafted through the trees, just enough to cool off hard working hikers, but not enough to be uncomfortable.
The boys were a bit tired when they hit the junction with Bryson’s Bridge Trail. Without saying a word both boys took a seat on a rocky outcrop, drank some water, and ate some snacks. Billy ate some beef jerky, and Ted had a chocolate bar.
Billy consulted his GPS to confirm the direction they were to take, then after a 15 minute break both boys stood up, shouldered their packs, and kept hiking.
The first mile of the Bryson Bridge trail was along the top of a ridge, and lined with clear blue blazes that marked the route. The terrain was flat and relatively easy. As they neared the end of the ridge, just before the trail took a turn down hill, they came across a large rocky outcrop. The rocks kept the trees from growing so the boys got an excellent view of the valley below.
Curious about something, Ted looked at his GPS.
“Hey Billy,” he called out, pointing across the valley. “That ridge over yonder is where we found that cache a couple days ago - Friendly Giant. Yeah, see that large maple tree sticking above the other trees? That’s the spot!”
Billy took out his camera and took a shot with his telephoto lens. He then pulled out his Android phone and took a panorama shot of the amazing view. “That is one heck of a view, bro”, Billy said, “those fall colours are really coming in nicely this year. Gonna make for some awesome photos. How far is it from here to that tree anyway?”
“According to the GPS, about 6 miles as the crow flies. “ Ted replied. He kept looking at his GPS. “Looks like a half mile down the trail this next hill flattens out and crosses a stream. Then its all uphill for a mile as it winds around Cockney’s Knob. Then it is a straight but hilly shot about 3 miles to the top of Brysons Peak.”
Ted hit a few more buttons on his GPS. “Looks like there is a couple of geocaches along the way, too”
“More caches, you say. Nice! What is this next cache called?” Billy inquired, as Ted hit a few more buttons. While Billy had his own GPS, and he kept it attached to his pack at all times, he often deferred the navigation to Ted. Billy liked to keep his eyes open, and watch for photography opportunities. Ted was definitely happier being the gadget guy of the pair.
“Actually, it’s called Brysons Bridge”, said Ted, reading off his GPS, “It is a regular size cache - ammo can to be precise. Looks like it is… oh cool! At the bottom of the next hill, in that valley I just mentioned, is a river. According to the cache description Brysons Bridge crosses that river, and it’s one of the oldest covered bridges in North Carolina. Apparently both Seamus Dawson and Parker Gilmour used it when bringing their shipments of gold into town.”
“How appropriate!”, Billy exclaimed excitedly. “Gotta love it when the random caches you find on an adventure match the theme, eh? Lets go bag it!”
“Actually, it’s called Brysons Bridge”, said Ted, reading off his GPS, “It is a regular size cache - ammo can to be precise. Looks like it is… oh cool! At the bottom of the next hill, in that valley I just mentioned, is a river. According to the cache description Brysons Bridge crosses that river, and it’s one of the oldest covered bridges in North Carolina. Apparently both Seamus Dawson and Parker Gilmour used it when bringing their shipments of gold into town.”
“How appropriate!”, Billy exclaimed excitedly. “Gotta love it when the random caches you find on an adventure match the theme, eh? Lets go bag it!”
Ted started down the trail. Billy took one more look over the valley, then turned to follow his brother.
The trail down ended up being quite treacherous. The path was littered with fallen leaves, still wet from last nights rain. That made the trail much more slippery than just the wet dirt would normally have. They also covered up many of the tree roots and loose stones that covered the trail, making it harder to place their steps on solid ground. However with some careful footwork, and copious use of their hiking sticks for extra stability, they made it safely to the bottom of the hill.
Just around the next bend Billy suddenly stopped short. Ted, distracted by a squirrel that crossed their path and ran up a tree, almost ran into him. The squirrel chattered at them angrily.
“What gives, Billy?” Ted asked, slightly annoyed at his brother for almost tripping him up.
“Check this out, Ted. That is an amazing view,” Billy pointed down the trail.
“What gives, Billy?” Ted asked, slightly annoyed at his brother for almost tripping him up.
“Check this out, Ted. That is an amazing view,” Billy pointed down the trail.
Ted looked over and had to admit that his brother had a point. They were looking over a picturesque valley. A meandering mountain river, perhaps 50 ft wide, snaked its way thru the valley. Crossing over the river, and about 300 ft from where they stood, sat a long covered bridge, painted red, with a green slanted roof. The bridge was perhaps 150 ft long, and 15 ft wide. Despite being 180 years old, the bridge was in immaculate condition (thanks to the Friends Of The Appalachian Historical Society, the boys would learn a bit later from the plaque placed on the bridge). The red and orange colours of the fall leaves, and the sunlight breaking thru the foliage, made for one picture perfect sight.
Billy thought so too, as he pulled out his camera and started taking photos. Annoyingly, as far as Ted was concerned, he made Ted pose for a few photos. He then pulled a GorillaPod camera tripod out of his back, set up his camera on a rock, and posed for photos with his brother, and the covered bridge in the background.
Finally Billy had enough photos to satisfy his muse, and packed up his gear. They continued their march towards the bridge.
“Cache description says the ammo can is on the bridge itself, and is accessible from inside the structure on the near side.” Ted informed his brother.
“Cache description says the ammo can is on the bridge itself, and is accessible from inside the structure on the near side.” Ted informed his brother.
When they got to the entrance, Teds GPS beeped.
“I got 10ft here”, Ted read off the screen. “You take the left, I’ll take the right.”
“Sure thing bro”, Billy said, heading left.
The brothers poked around for a few minutes before Billy spotted the cache in the rafters where they met the side wall.
“Got it!” he called out, then reached up and retrieved the cache.
“Got it!” he called out, then reached up and retrieved the cache.
He signed their names in the log book: “October 23, 2014. Preston.esq and Theo.Logan was here. Thanks for the cache!”, then placed the log book back into the cache.
As he started closing up the lid, Theo blurted out “Oh hey, any travel bugs in there?”
As he started closing up the lid, Theo blurted out “Oh hey, any travel bugs in there?”
Travel bugs are objects that are taken, or travel, from geocache to geocache by geocachers. Ted liked discovering and moving travel bugs along whenever he could.
“I didn’t look!” Billy said, in mock exasperation, “Let Me open up this cache, again. And look inside, again, just for you.”
Ted knew Billy was joking with him. “Thanks bro, you are the bestest”, he quipped.
“Nope, no travel bugs. Just a logbook, a nasty old pen that doesn’t write anymore, and a Happy Meal toy… looks like an Olaf figurine from Frozen. No travel bugs. Sorry, mate.”
“Nope, no travel bugs. Just a logbook, a nasty old pen that doesn’t write anymore, and a Happy Meal toy… looks like an Olaf figurine from Frozen. No travel bugs. Sorry, mate.”
“Dang, I was hoping.” sighed Ted. “Maybe in the next one eh?”
“Yeah, maybe in the next one.” Billy, being the older brother, often had to deal with some immaturity from his brother. Someday it seemed his brother would never entirely grow up.
Billy reached up and placed the cache back where he found it. “There, another cache in the books. What’s the next one?”
“Looks like the next one is about a mile down the trail. Last one before our puzzle, bro. We’re almost at Seamus Dawson’s gold!” Ted said, excitement to finish this series building in his voice. “ Lets -”
He was interrupted by a loud gruff voice coming from the other side of the bridge. “What does y’all think you be knowin’ about Seamus Dawson’s gold?!” The voice demanded.
The boys whirled around. Standing in the bright light at the far entrance to the bridge was the silhouette of a large man. In one hand it looked like he was carrying a chunk of wood, in the other he held a large knife.
The boys were dumbfounded, and stood frozen in place.
“I said.” Repeated the gruff voice, taking a menacing step towards them, “what does y’all know about that gold?”
“I said.” Repeated the gruff voice, taking a menacing step towards them, “what does y’all know about that gold?”
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/. Copyright 2015 by Dave DeBaeremaeker. All Rights Reserved.
