"Are those Mardi Gras beads?" the young man asked.

"Yeah," my wife answered, the long strand of shiny green beads hanging loosely around her neck..

"I, uhhh, guess I won't ask," was his response.

I'd heard of it before, naturally.

Geocaching.

The game (or sport?) of folks placing hidden caches about the country, then posting their location on an internet site, often listing only the geographic coordinates for the site. Seekers are expected to use their GPS units to locate said caches. Inside is usually a small supply of cheap, or worthless, even, gadgets or knick-knacks. Often a register to record your discovery.

Some of the cache treasures are useful, some not. Discoverers are expected to take an item, and leave a new one behind.

A high-tech scavenger hunt, so to speak. Or, more accurately, a treasure hunt.

Heard about this over a year ago, maybe even three years or so. Thought it'd be fun, but not much activity out in our open country.

While leisurely surfing the net on Saturday, I stopped by the website linked above.

And found caches near us.

Some really near us. Like we camped by one earlier this month.

We should go find it.

So, after Mass today, the wife came back to pick me up, and off we went.

Geocaching.

Heelers in tow.

And promptly got discouraged. What was to be our first geocache proved to be quite elusive. Others had reported trouble finding this hidden box on the website, and we were no different. Too many trees, rocks and crevices near the reported site, and no cache at the reported site.

And it was hot (midday, nearly July, uhhh... duh). With heelers suffering more on the rocks than we.

How could it not be here?

Quite possibly a simple variation in how the satellites were lining up, or perhaps in settings on the cacher's GPS versus our own. (Okay... so we don't own a GPS. We borrowed the outfit's. Been using batteries in it for years that we have always paid for out of our pockets, so it's time we got a return on our investment.)

But there are two other caches in town. Feel confident about finding those. How about we find them, compare our GPS readings to the cacher's for those sites (the same person, presumably the same GPS), and then use that discrepancy to try this one again?

So, off we go. With heelers safely ensconced on the vehicle, in the shade.

Now, some geocaches are what they call "virtual" caches. Places where you cannot or do not want to leave a cache box laying around.

Like cemeteries.

There, the cacher judges your success by your ability to email them with answers to questions about the site that can only be answered by standing right there.

We move to the reported site and start looking for the clues that we're in the right place. Just like seeking a lost blood trail, we begin circling, expanding our circles as we go.

Stop to read a headstone, and lo and behold, I know him. Or his story, rather, as this man was killed over 100 years ago. Without thinking, I reach out and caress the tall, cool white marble.

"ERECTED BY HIS FRIENDS" it says near the top. I turn to tell the wife, thinking all the while, there should be another stone here, along with this one.

And there it is.

And this one is the clue we've been looking for. Our first geocache is someone we know. Or, at least, whose story we know.

The ending, at least.

Discrepancy between our GPS reading and that of the cacher was nine meters east, four meters north.

On to geocache number two.

Now, this one is also in a place we know. Or that the wife knows. A quarter-century in this community, and I've never been to the place it all started. But she has, often. As part of her duties in a previous job, and on days when she wanted a quiet lunch.

So we go straight to the landmark, and start looking. Finding the red sandstone cover stone without much trouble or time. All the while wondering what the kid mowing the yard across the way thinks of our wanderings.

This is a regular cache, with storage box and trinkets. But it's a small box, jammed full to take up every cubic centimeter.

We take out a small phone book, since there were two, and leave behind...

Well, most of what we brought won't fit. So, the first token we ever leave in a geocache is...

A sage grouse tail feather.

Discrepancy at our second geocache? Five meters east, six meters north.

We're ready to try the first site again. This time we leave the heelers in the vehicle, in the shade. As we wend the path through our friend's historical site, we find a pipeline pit with the cover removed.

Perhaps they wanted it off, but that's unlikely. Lot of kids playing in this site. As I move to replace the cover, at the bottom I spy a white sphere.

A golf ball.

That would make a good cache token.

Drop down to retrieve the ball, snatching it as quickly as I can lest a rattler be in the dark crevice beyond. Little did I know rattlesnakes were not the venomous critters I should have been watching for. As I was replacing the pit cover, I find these lying in wait.

Well, actually, I think they were trying to mate, not lying in wait, as the small male went dashing after the big, venomous female as soon as she moved my way.

Now, I have a great understanding and love for almost all creatures, but black widows I hate. Probably since I grew up with the things above my bed. If she'd moved any slower, I'm fairly certain I would have terminated her existence. As it is, she dashed to safety, with her consort in close, but probably lethal, pursuit.

So, on to the cache. Crawled back onto the rock outcrop covered with junipers, with the wife banging her knee in the process, and started looking east and north of the coordinates.

And there it was, a small metal ammo box. Again jammed with tokens.

We signed the register, left the golf ball and some sunscreen (on our minds today), and removed a pen.

And a string of shiny, green Mardi Gras beads.

So, to celebrate out first day as geocachers (unofficially, since we haven't registered yet), we treated ourselves to lunch at eldest son's favorite coffee shoppe. And the young server, whom we have known for years, spotted the wife's unusual adornment.

And hence the conversation above.

And since they also suffered in the heat, we stopped at McD's for a treat for the heelers on the way home.