A MoodyMessyHungry.com Adventure Series Post
When I first stumbled across the idea of geocaching, I was knee-deep in spring garden planning, covered in compost, and questioning my life choices (a very normal Tuesday around here). A post popped up on my feed: “Real-Life Treasure Hunts! Find Hidden Caches Around Your Neighborhood!” and my first thought was, “Wait. People hide tiny boxes in random places, and other people go find them?” It sounded just ridiculous enough to be perfect for me.
And thus, another messy, slightly impulsive, dirt-covered hobby was born.
Today, I’m taking you along on my first real geocaching adventure — what I learned, what I loved, and why it’s secretly the perfect companion hobby for gardeners, nature lovers, and anyone else who spends too much time talking to their plants. (No judgment. I’m in deep too.)
What is Geocaching, Anyway?
Geocaching is, at its simplest, a global treasure hunt using GPS coordinates. Someone hides a container (the “cache”), logs its coordinates online, and other people use GPS to try to find it. The containers can be tiny (think film canisters) or big (ammo boxes or storage bins) and often have little logbooks to sign, and sometimes tiny trinkets to trade.
It’s part hiking, part scavenger hunt, part exercise in stubbornness.
If gardening is the art of patience, geocaching is the art of noticing.
Why Geocaching and Gardening Are Secret Soulmates
When you’re gardening, you’re constantly reading landscapes: noticing tiny color changes in leaves, feeling the heft of soil in your palm, catching a faint scent that means rain’s coming. You’re tuned in.
Geocaching, weirdly, requires that same deep attention. A “cache” might be hidden inside a hollow fence post, tucked under a rock that’s just slightly too square, or dangling in a tree like a wayward fruit.
It teaches you to look closer. To slow down. To question what you think you see.
Prepping for the Hunt: What I Packed
Because I’m me, and I overthink every outing (bless this chaotic brain), I decided to treat my first geocaching trip with the same reverence I give to starting seeds:
- My battered old hiking boots
- A backpack with snacks (very important)
- A pen (for signing logbooks)
- A couple small trinkets (to trade, if needed)
- A pair of gloves (because dirt and bugs happen)
- A tiny first-aid kit (because I know myself)
- My phone, loaded with the geocaching app
- My Garmin eTrex 32x
- Pure stubborn determination
My First Geocache: An Unexpected Challenge
I picked an “easy” geocache located in a nature preserve about fifteen minutes from my house. “Perfect for beginners!” the app said.
What the app didn’t mention was that spring rains had turned the trail into a squelchy mudslide.
Half an hour in, I was already soaked up to my calves, picking my way through boggy stretches of what used to be a trail. But honestly? It was fun. In a primal, messy, kid-in-the-mud kind of way.
After some serious mud ballet, I made it to the coordinates. My GPS buzzed insistently. “You are within 5 feet.”
I looked around: a small clearing, a fallen log, a clump of bushes.
And…nothing.
Cue twenty minutes of increasingly desperate searching. I poked, prodded, peeked under rocks, brushed back leaves. I was about to give up when I noticed it: a rock that was suspiciously…lighter?
It wasn’t a rock. It was a rock-shaped container, painted perfectly to blend in.
Inside was a small notebook, a few stickers, and a plastic dinosaur figurine. I signed my name with a grin so big I scared a nearby bird into flight.
Why It Hit So Hard (In a Good Way)
Finding that silly little cache felt weirdly emotional.
Not because it was valuable (it wasn’t) or difficult (it kind of was), but because it reminded me: I can still be surprised by the world.
Gardening sometimes feels like a slow miracle — the patient kind. Geocaching felt like a sudden, joyful one.
The same way a tomato seedling pokes its head up through the soil when you least expect it, a cache hidden under an old log reminds you that the world’s full of secret good things.
You just have to look.
Lessons From the Trail (and the Garden)
1. Mud Happens. Plan Accordingly.
Whether you’re starting a garden or hunting a cache, expect to get dirty. Some things are just better when you stop caring how ridiculous you look.
2. Pay Attention to the “Small” Things.
A slightly shifted stone, a faint sprout of green — tiny clues tell big stories. Training yourself to notice them is half the adventure.
3. Sometimes You Have to Get a Little Lost.
The path isn’t always straight. Sometimes you find the best (or weirdest) things by wandering a little.
4. Celebrate the Small Victories.
Signing a logbook. Sprouting a seed. Turning compost. None of it is glamorous. All of it is powerful.
How Geocaching Has Changed How I Garden
Since I started geocaching, I’ve noticed I garden differently too. I’m slower. More observant. I notice the bee that visits at 3 PM daily. I notice the subtle tension in the soil before a rainstorm.
I’m hunting, always, for small wonders.
And I’m finding them more often.
Tips If You Want to Try It (You Absolutely Should)
- Start Simple. Pick easy caches at first. Confidence grows like compost — slowly and with lots of mistakes.
- Dress for Dirt. You’re gonna get messy. Lean into it.
- Bring a Buddy. Especially for longer hikes. Bonus: you’ll have someone to laugh with when you’re both crawling under a bush.
- Respect the Land. Stay on trails where possible. Don’t trample sensitive areas. Think of it as “Leave No Trace” gardening.
- Celebrate Every Find. Yes, even the ones that are “just” film canisters with soggy paper inside. It’s about the journey, not the Instagram photo.
Until next time, stay messy, stay curious, and stay just a little bit lost.
#MoodyMessyHungryAdventure #Geocaching #GardeningLife #TreasureHuntingInTheDirt