Covey of Cachers

I mean that not in a avian way, but in a Deadhead or Phish Followers way. These are a few of ingredients that were stirring around in my subconscious leading to last night’s final dream:

1. Attending the June CSRA Geocachers meeting where there were 60-70 people.
2. Reading the logs of caches where it seems like some folks travel in packs from 6 to 12 or more and do big quantities of finds in a day.
3. A brief conversation with a cache owner when I returned his banished from SCDNR land ammo can.
4. A short scene from the last movie we watched, Invisible Circus.
5. I ate too much junk from the Ryan’s Mega Bar the night before.
6. Waking a 4AM to go to the bathroom, thus leaving enough time to get back into deep REM sleep before…
7. …being jolted awake mid dream so the last snippets were fresh in my brain.

We were out caching on a South Carolina back road and had just logged a find. Donna was sitting in the car planning our next destination and I was walking the short distance into the woods to replace the ammo can. Donna shouted, with a slight bit of alarm in her voice, "Brian!" I hastily tossed some pine straw over the cache and started out of the woods. I can see what caused her state. There parked on the other side of the road from where we were was a bus that looked like it came from a scene in The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. And out of the bus piled dozens of people aged from 8 to 80 in odd dress that looked like it was borrowed from J.F. Sebastian's manufactured companions in Blade Runner. There was juggling, a unicycle rider, tambourine playing, etc. As I got closer I recognized the faces, they belonged to geocachers from the local Club. Just as I was crossing the street to introduce myself to one of these characters with a Cyrano de Bergerac nose when the alarm went off.