(by BeccaDay and Silyngufy)
Geocaching is a fantastic sport;
but not when you are very short.
Oh you tall geocachers, if only you knew;
All of the things that we short geocachers go through.
The cache page says just a quick PNG,
my first thought is “how hard can this be?”
My eyes begin to water and I begin to whine.
My goodness, that is a very tall sign!
As I slowly ponder, I become madder and madder,
why did they not tell me to bring a ladder?
I stare and sigh with my face pointed to the sky;
and I wonder why this cache was placed so high?
Maybe if I just stand on my toes?
Nope, still too short, yes these are my woes.
I hiked for over two miles across the land;
only to find the cache 6 inches above my outstretched hand.
I guess I’ll have to climb for it, at least I like trees;
stick my hand into a hole and out come the bees!
I run as fast as my short legs will carry;
running from bees is always very scary!
But the lure of the FTF draws me back;
I look around for some logs to stack.
They wibble, they wobble, but they give me some height.
Onto the logs I climb, and I reach with all my might.
I can touch the bison tube with my arm extended;
But unscrewing the cap must be done two-handed!
I furrow my brow and swing my other arm wide;
Only to end up on the ground lying on my backside.
I lie there looking at the cache and feeling queasy.
Then some tall cachers arrive claiming “This one’s easy!”
They walk up and in seconds their name is first on the sheet;
and I know in my heart that I’ve been beat.
This cache is hidden under a bridge;
that covers the span from ridge to ridge.
I gingerly make my way down the slope;
I look up, then shattered is my hope.
For there it is hidden, couldn’t be bolder;
up in the rafters, that magnetic key holder.
It might as well be up on a cloud;
my wail of despair is now very loud.
You six-footers will never understand the plight;
of the geocachers with much shorter height.
I set off down the trail, my friends set the gait;
but it isn’t too long until I have to cry out “Wait!”
They’re comfortably walking, a smile on their faces;
while my legs are running to keep up their paces.
But there is one advantage we have over the tall;
those low-hanging branches are no problem at all.
This time it is the short cacher’s time to shine;
as those tall friends fall farther and farther behind.
Behind me I hear them crashing under branches and brush;
I smile and call out “I found it, no need to rush!”
