There’s a unique kind of vulnerability in dragging your friends into one of your weird little hobbies. Especially the kind that involves tromping through overgrown trails, peering under suspiciously shaped rocks, and announcing “Found it!” with way more glee than the situation (a moldy Tupperware with a soggy logbook) might warrant.
Welcome to geocaching with people who don’t quite get it — but who love you enough to go along for the ride anyway.
They Said “Sure” Before They Knew What They Were Saying Yes To
It usually starts innocently enough. A group text. A weekend afternoon with no plans. You throw out: “Wanna go geocaching with me?”
Someone replies, “What’s that?”
You explain: “It’s like a treasure hunt, but with GPS coordinates. People hide containers all over the world, and you use an app to find them.”
You can almost hear the hesitation through the typing bubble. But your people — the ones who know you well enough to love your strange — reply with something like: “Sounds weird. I’m in.”
Cue the adventure.
The First Cache: Awkward Enthusiasm and Mild Regret
Let me set the scene.
We’re parked near a trailhead. The app says the cache is 0.3 miles away. I’m buzzing. I’ve preloaded the map. I’ve read the hint (“Base of the tree, look for the broken branch”). I’ve got a pen for signing the log.
My friends have… skepticism. And trail mix.
The walk starts off fine. The weather’s decent. Spirits are high. We’re joking, catching up, moving at a meandering pace. Then we get close.
“This way!” I say, darting slightly off-trail like a raccoon who’s spotted a shiny object.
“What do you mean ‘this way’? Are you sure?”
The app’s arrow is spinning like a broken compass. I’m doing the classic Geocacher Shuffle: forward a few feet, back, side to side, squinting at my phone like it owes me answers. My friends are watching with a mix of confusion and quiet concern.
Eventually, I start rooting around under logs. They stare.
“This is… a thing people do?” one asks, as I thrust my hand into a suspicious-looking tree hollow.
“Yes,” I say, triumphantly pulling out a camouflaged pill bottle. “Found it!”
Inside: a rolled-up paper log with maybe five signatures and a rusted toy dinosaur.
My friends exchange a glance. One says, “Cool?” in the way you say it when someone shows you their rock collection.
But they’re smiling. Not because they get it. Because they get me.
It’s Not About the Cache (At Least, Not Entirely)
Here’s the thing: Geocaching is a weird little hobby. It’s part outdoor adventure, part scavenger hunt, part personal meditation. And for some of us, it becomes a lifeline.
For me, geocaching is about motion when I’m stuck. Direction when I feel lost. Tiny wins on days that otherwise feel like emotional tumbleweeds.
It doesn’t make perfect sense to someone who doesn’t need it. And that’s okay.
What matters most on days like these isn’t the cache. It’s that someone showed up to look for it with me — even if they didn’t understand why.
The Quiet Magic of Being Indulged
You learn a lot about your friendships when you bring someone into your world, quirks and all. Not everyone has to love what you love. They don’t have to download the app, or get competitive about FTFs (First to Finds), or memorize the difference between traditional and multi-caches.
But if they walk the trail with you? That counts. If they swat mosquitoes while you poke at bark? That’s something. If they roll their eyes but still help you dig around in leaf litter? That’s love, baby.
It’s a special kind of friendship that says, “I don’t really get this, but I get you.” It’s the kind that shows up on muddy paths and lets you be a little ridiculous.
We all deserve that.
Unexpected Joys: What My Friends Actually Liked
Turns out, even skeptical friends can have a good time.
One of mine got really into signing the logbook — she gave herself a whole trail name and started leaving motivational quotes like, “You are the treasure.”
Another became obsessed with the idea that “muggles” (non-geocachers) might be watching us from the trees. He turned the whole hike into a spy movie. (Admittedly, I didn’t help when I whispered, “Act natural” as we crept up on a city park bench.)
One just enjoyed being outside and said it was the first time in months she’d walked without her phone in front of her face. She didn’t find the cache — but she found a moment of peace.
That counts too.
Not Everyone Will Come Back — And That’s Okay
Some friends geocache with me once and never again. “Glad I did it,” they say. “Don’t ask me again.” And I don’t. I save those adventures for the solo days, or for fellow caching nerds I meet through online groups or events.
But the memory of that one day sticks. A shared laugh over a suspicious stump. A snack break on a rock ledge. That moment of mild panic when we realized the “easy terrain” rating was a lie.
It’s like collecting not just caches, but connection points. Shared stories. Proof that someone stepped into your world for a while — and left a little kindness behind.
In Praise of the People Who Show Up Anyway
If you have friends who will follow you into the woods with no idea why, hold them close. Thank them. Feed them snacks. Let them pick the next adventure, even if it’s something you don’t “get” either. (I’ve now sat through entire board game nights and birdwatching mornings in return.)
Because ultimately, this hobby — like most passions — is less about the thing itself and more about the way it connects us. With the earth, with ourselves, with each other.
So here’s to the friends who don’t geocache… but do love you enough to try.
Even when it’s weird.
Even when they don’t get it.
Even when you’re standing knee-deep in brush yelling “I think it’s behind this rock!!”
They still show up. And honestly? That’s the real treasure.
Have you ever gone geocaching with someone who didn’t quite “get” it?Share your funniest or most heartwarming experience in the comments — or tag me on Instagram @MoodyMessyHungry. I want to see that confused-but-loving face.
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