Pirates on a treasure hunt

June 8, 2009 by Barbara.

We tried to let Uncle Roger sleep in on Saturday morning, we really did, but I tread as lightly as an elephant and Reid drags her stool across the floor so that she can see whatever it is I’m doing. Neither of are particularly good with our “indoor voices”, either. Uncle Roger is familiar with our deficiencies but forgot to insert the ear plugs that he brought. He was up by 6:30 and assisting in the creation of a menu. I’d given Reid the choice of pancakes, waffles or French toast and she decided that we should play restaurant and she would be the menu creator/waitress while I would be the cook. I said that people could choose the sort of fruit they wanted but that I was only making pancakes. Reid disagreed and I had to resort to parental subterfuge to ensure that the restaurant’s patrons only chose pancakes. We filled our bellies with fruit and pancakes and then headed out to soccer. Reid scored a couple of goals but for the most part wandered casually around the field. I’m not sure why she was distracted - we’ll have to chalk it up to being 4.

After soccer we started our treasure hunt. Uncle Roger had read that there were a few geocaching activities as part of Doors Open Ottawa and wanted to try one. I sold the idea to Reid as a “treasure hunt”. She was the captain (of course). Uncle Roger was driving and running the GPS and so he was the pirate-navigator. Since I have to buckle and unbuckle Reid from her car seat and schlepp her stuff around, etc. I declared myself to the captain’s assistant. It sounded nicer that go-fer. Our first “waypoint” was the Vanier Muséopark (a good place for a ramble around with local history exhibits, mainly in French) and the next was a little church in Vanier. The church had been Anglican (St Margaret’s) but now serves also a francophone parish, and a Mennonite one as well as offering a service in Innuktituk once a month. We went home for lunch and then Reid, Uncle Roger and I went to the Billing Estate National Historic Site and finally to the Cumberland Heritage Village. Reid was most interested in the bridal party at the Billings Estate but Uncle Roger and I especially enjoyed their special exhibit on 19th century medicines and treatments, “Drink this, Drink that”. At the Cumberland Heritage Village we saw another bridal party but they were up staged in Reid’s estimation by the playground attached to the historic school. She played on the wooden swings with ropes that creaked as she swung and also on the teeter. We had a near-miss on the may pole-like apparatus, though. It’s a pole with ropes that attach at the top. The kids are supposed to run around and then, once they’ve built up some momentum, they jump and their bodies swing out as they continue spinning. I didn’t think Reid could run fast enough and so told her to sit on one rope’s know while I ran her around the pole. I let go and she swung out in a wide arc. And then the rope started wrapping itself around the pole. Reid had a terrified look on her face - and I imagine Uncle Roger and I looked more than a little worried - as we rushed to catch Reid before the rope wrapped far enough around the pole to throw Reid into it. I rescued her just in the nick of time.

At each way point, Reid helped us to identify the number for which we were hunting and the numbers helped us complete the GPS coordinates for the cache, or treasure, as we were calling it. Hard core geocachers must use GPS devices that are more precise than the ones you use in a car. We tried and tried but couldn’t find the exact position with Uncle Roger’s GPS. We even resorted to searching around major features of landscape without success. I swallowed my pride and asked one of the people who work at the village if he knew where the cache was hidden. He hadn’t even known there was a cache on the site. After a couple of “that’s it, we’re leaving” moments that were followed by “oh, let’s look just a little more,” we left. I’d worried that Reid might be upset but she was bored enough with the searching and hungry enough not to make a fuss. Or maybe girls who are 4 and 11/12 years old are big enough to manage their emotions. Reid just commented that whoever had hidden the treasure had done a really good job. Uncle Roger and I had to agree.

When we got home, I saw that someone had reported finding the cache and so I emailed to ask them to tell me where it had been. Since I’d already swallowed my pride earlier that afternoon it was quite easy. The friendly stranger told me where to look and what to look for. We almost went back on Sunday but didn’t. I asked Uncle Roger if he was thinking of taking up geocaching as a hobby and he answered, “Not anymore.”

It was a good way to choose which sites to visit among the dozens participating in Doors Open Ottawa. I’d planned to visit some embassies and the OC Transpo train garage. Maybe we’ll do that next year instead. But being pirates *was* fun while it lasted.

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