tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40495596090672548142024-03-14T02:44:11.368-04:00The Rambling Wit and Wisdom of the ever "Infamous" RassilonIf Adventure has a name... it is "Ravenchase Adventures!"
Stop Watching Reality TV --- Get in the Game!...Rassilonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01721185481568744682noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049559609067254814.post-62402520831619642422009-02-25T21:14:00.002-05:002009-02-25T21:28:09.788-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon3Logo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 161px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/RassilonLogoPR.jpg" border="0" /></a> <center><embed pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2FRassilon365%2Falbumid%2F5283722415412056129%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" height="192" width="288"></embed></center><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><i>An Adventure! --- </i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><i>A Mystery Location<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>--- </i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><i>An Unbroken Cipher --- <o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" >A Quest for Hidden TREASURE!!!</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><strong><em><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ></span></em></strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i><span style="font-size:16;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i><o:p></o:p></i></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"><br />The mere mention of these words, seems to set our collective imaginations on fire for all of us. It also explains why such motion pictures and network series like <i>National Treasure, Indiana Jones, The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Da</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Vinci</span> Code, The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Goonies</span>, Treasure Hunters and Amazing Race </i>have become almost national icons for their ability to capture and inspire the public’s imagination. <o:p></o:p></p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:0;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><i>But Why???</i><span style="font-size:0;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">--- The <span style="font-style: italic;">“Truth”</span> is so unbelievably simple, it's almost too simple. --- The answer of course is; because there's a little “<i>Indiana Jones”</i> in all of us, when the Spirit of Adventure calls us. </span></p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;">This Page is devoted to the Game and the Global offerings of <a href="http://www.ravenchase.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Ravenchase</span> Adventures</a> in their continual challenge to provide the Spirit of Fun and Adventure to all hearts, that dare to dream of being a Treasure Hunter. </p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;">I first discovered <a href="http://www.ravenchase.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Ravenchase</span> Adventures</a> when I became hopelessly addicted to a NBC Summer Series entitled, “<i><a href="http://www.nbc.com/Treasure_Hunters">TREASURE HUNTERS</a>,</i>” sponsored by <a href="http://www.genworth.com/content/genworth/www_genworth_com/web/global/en/home.html">Genworth Financial Services </a>which as a series, I would best describe to you as <i>“Amazing Race,” </i>with a Brain. </p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;">Contestants each week raced across the length and breadth of the United States and Northern Europe, seeking history and mysterious artifacts, all cloaked beneath various codes and ciphers that would, in the end, lead them to a secret location, and a Treasure Trove worth over Three Million dollars.</p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;">With this series, every Childhood Dream of Adventure of mine was set ablaze in my imagination. Week after week, I matched wits with the teams on the show, and with friends from on-line forums; all sharing the same Passion. --- The Passion and the Need to unraveling the clues first. Crack the Codes, and claim the right to be the first one to discover the Hidden and Final Location; even if we could never claim the Treasure for ourselves.</p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;">When the series ended in the fall, it left many of my friends and myself hungering for more. We all secretly planned and hoped for a second season of the series; so that we could put in our applications and join in on the Hunt, and compete. But, in the meantime, this shared dream needed to be acted upon. </p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;">My fellow travelers, and I, began researching the possibility of holding a private hunt of our own to celebrate this series. And in doing so, we discovered <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.ravenchase.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">RAVENCHASE</span> ADVENTURES</a>. A company created in 2001 by John <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Czarda</span>, whose sole purpose was to provide Adventure and the Spirit of the Chase to anyone that has ever dreamed of being <i>Indiana Jones, a Master <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Cracksman</span>, Sleuth, Spy</i>, or just <i>a Pirate of the Spanish Maine in Search of Hidden Treasure. <o:p></o:p></i></p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;">Hiring the company, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Ravenchase</span> Adventures rose to the challenge and put on an event for us in the Historic Town of Harper’s Ferry, Virginia. Using Historical markers, old dark mill tunnels, graveyards, even the very town itself to build their hunt. Ravenchase provided everything from secret codes, cipher wheels and ancient parchment clues, that could only be cracked once the secret locations within the town itself were discovered.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;">Everything was there, that we could have possibly imagined and hoped for. Old Weathered Maps that glowed under Black Light, messages that only appeared when placed in water, cryptic locations and actors planted along the path to guide us, or perhaps to mislead us. --- And even though I lost this particular race, <i><u>“Miserably!!!”</u></i><span style="font-size:0;"> </span>--- I was <i><u>“HOOKED!”</u></i> --- I was <i><u>“Addicted”</u></i> from the very start and had to have more. --- More Adventures and more Challenges! All in the single minded Quest to bring home the Glory and the Gold!</p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;">Within my Private Reviews of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Ravenchase</span> Adventures more Public Hunts, found below, I invite anyone with a thirst for Adventure, or just a simple plain curiosity to discover what <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Ravenchase</span> Adventures is all about;<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>to read,<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>and run along side of me through the entire race from beginning to end. Start with <a href="http://theinfamousrassilon.blogspot.com/2008/12/ravenchase-adventures-perfect-hunt.html">"The Perfect Hunt"</a> and read on from there... perhaps following with, <a href="http://theinfamousrassilon.blogspot.com/2008/12/ravenchase-christmas-in-new-hope.html">"The Enchanted Christmas Hunt"</a> in New Hope<br /></p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">And through my Triumphs, Errors, stumbling Blunders and simple Joys, all </span><i style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">“hopefully”</i><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"> peppered with my own peculiar sence of Wit and Wisdom, the Reader will come to discover within themselves, if they too have the need to </span><i><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">“Stop watching Reality TV… Get off the Couch and Get into the Game! ---</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.ravenchase.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Ravenchase</span> Adventures!!!</a>”</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></p><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><i><o:p></o:p></i><br />--- Geoffrey G. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Wynkoop</span></p><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: justify;">A.K.A. --- The <i style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">“Infamous”</i><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Rassilon</span></div>Rassilonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01721185481568744682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049559609067254814.post-57151330099417336932009-02-25T21:02:00.002-05:002009-02-25T21:17:40.357-05:00Tips and Tricks of The Game<span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/RavenchaseLogo.jpg" /></div><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="spnmessagetext">The <em></em></span></span></strong></span><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="spnmessagetext"><em>"Must"</em> have...</span></span></strong></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="spnmessagetext"><em>"Go To..."</em> </span></span></strong></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="spnmessagetext">Items </span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">For a Ravenchase Hunt</span></span></span></strong></span></p><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: justify;"><br />There are forever Tricks of the Trade. <span style="font-style: italic;">"In-House Secrets"</span>, if you will, of many Winning Teams at Ravenchase Adventures. --- Every Team has their own secrets of success in a Race, which they guard like the Holy Grail. Many of these Secrets shall forever remain, <em>"Team Members Only."</em><br /><br />But, there are a number of simpler suggestions that are open for discovery, such as... What to Bring, What to Wear and What to Read.... That many newcomers to Ravenchase might have never considered these, or have all too frequently overlooked them... to their lasting regret.<br /><br /></div><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: justify;"></div><div style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: justify;"></div><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">To help those New to the Hunt, I have created a unique list of suggestions for the items you may consider bringing with you on your own Ravenchase Hunt. --- Remembering, always first that ...</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >"It is the Thrill of the Hunt, not the Treasure, that Drives us on!" </span></span></span><span style="font-size:0;"><span style="font-size:0;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/Coins2Description-1.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 64px; cursor: pointer; height: 60px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/Coins2Description-1.gif" border="0" /></a></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong></strong></span></p></span></span><span style="font-family:webdings;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">***********************************</span><br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong></strong></span></p></span></span></div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">1.</span> </strong></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" ><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Number One Item to have is... a Really <span style="font-style: italic;">“Nifty” </span>Team Name: ---</span> </strong><strong style="font-weight: normal;">This is a</strong><strong style="font-weight: normal;"> Fashion Accessory "<i><span style="font-weight: bold;">Most"</span> </i></strong><strong style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">New Teams forget to even think about until the day of the Hunt,</span></strong><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>which can be a huge mistake.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" >--- A Terrific Moniker, as your Team’s Identity, can be your beginning path to <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">"Fame" and </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">"GLORY" </span>in Ravenchase! Striking fear and dread into your competition’s hearts, knowing that your team has once again entered onto the game pitch. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">--- Such notable Team Names as <i>Jencrush, A-Squared, The Chase Monkeys, Nala’s Pride, The Brilliants, The Penultimates, The Fellowship of the Van </i>and my personal favorite for a team name<i> "Victorious Secret!,"</i> for an all female team. These Teams are the very best at what they do. Their Team names have come to earn respect, and are actually reasons to sign up for these events, just to race and test yourself against the <em>Very Best!.</em><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">--- Other teams have become <i>“Beloved”</i> for being experianced Teams just to race against, because you can enjoy their sportsmanship and great company, Teams like <i>“Team Dude, Run,” “The Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess,”</i> <span style="font-style: italic;">"The Birthday Bears"</span> and the ever <i><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">“Infamous”</span> Rassilon.</i><span style="font-size:0;"> </span>--- Don’t find yourself caught with a Team name like <i style="font-weight: bold;">“Ahhh.. What-ever,”</i><span style="font-size:0;"> </span>as one poor Team I raced against did. --- Give it some Serious Thought... <span style="font-style: italic;">Really!</span> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><b><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">2.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">A Cell Phone:- </span></b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Communication at all times is important for several reasons. <span style="font-weight: bold;">One: Unexpected events do happen</span>. --- During at least two of my races, historical sites written into the clues were closed; when they were expected to be open. So, the missing clues were phoned, or text to us. <span style="font-weight: bold;">--- Two:</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Hints during a Hunt:</span> can be called in for, though there is a time penalty. --- <span style="font-weight: bold;">Three:</span> Sometimes a race ends and there are still missing Teams out there; Lost in the Wilds. --- <span style="font-weight: bold;">Its nice to call you and tell you where the party is.</span> --- One team I remember, stopped into an Art Gallery for their clue and fell in loved with the Art Work so much, they forgot they were in a race, lost track of time and stayed to make deals for some of the Art Pieces with the Gallery's owner. (<span style="font-style: italic;">True Story...</span>) </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><strong></strong></p><div style="text-align: left;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/Go-Phone01SM.jpg" /><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">3.</span><span style="font-size:0;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"> </span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Pencils:-</span></span></b></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </span><u style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">“<i>Not</i>”</u><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> repeat </span><b style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><i><u>“not”</u></i> <u>PENS</u></b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> and </span><b style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Yes!!!</b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </span><b style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">And a TON of them! </b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I cut them down to five, or six inches, to fit better in my Top and Pants Pockets. I can not tell you how many pencils I have lost on a hunt,(<span style="font-style: italic;">Ivy Eats them Like Candy</span>) Backups are important! </span><b style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">In Cold Weather Pens Freeze up on you , <i>Pencils Never</i> <i>Do</i></b><i><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">.</span><o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/pencils.jpg" height="185" width="195" /></span><br /></div></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">4.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Artist Square Eraser.</span></b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> The soft tan ones are <span style="font-style: italic;">Wonderful!</span> These erase mistakes cleanly. The erasers on Pencils tend to smudge Pink and leave the work sheet dirty, confusing your hard work. </span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/eraser.jpg" height="148" width="208" /></span><br /></div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">5.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Graph Paper with 1/4" Inch Squares:-</span></b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> as your scratch paper to work out difficult Ciphers. --- I always keep about five, or six sheets with me at the back of my Report Folder during a race. The Blocks are really useful for keeping the columns of Cipher Letters lined up as you are doing a <span style="font-style: italic;">“Brute Force”</span> decipherment, or a <span style="font-style: italic;">“Trickle Down”</span> Cipher. </span></span><br /></span></p></span><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/graphpaper.jpg" height="213" width="213" /></span><br /></div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">6.</span> Clear Front Report Covers:- --</span></b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"> <b>with the Center Pull Release<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>Clip</b>--- <b><u>A Real Must !!!</u></b><span style="font-size:0;"> </span>Keeps your clue sheets <b>flat</b> and <b>together</b>. It also Prevents them from getting lost, allowing you to read your clues easily through the clear front.--- The surface of the folder is major plus, as you have a light weight firm surface to write on when you’re at clue locations. --- These folders also come in many colors, so if you have several in your bag, you can color code them as to which is your <b>Code book</b>, <b>Local Information & Maps</b> and of course, your <b>Work Book</b>. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/ClearReportCover.jpg" height="238" width="315" /> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">7. </span>Scotch Tape:-</b> Some Final Ciphers come in four sections, found along the Hunt path. Tape is the <span style="font-style: italic;">“Miracle”</span> that holds them all together and keeps them from blowing away!! My Friend in Baltimore,<span style="font-style: italic;"> "Flidais,"</span> lost points, because her team lost one of the final sections along the way. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/ScotchTape.jpg" /> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">8. </span>A Cipher Wheel :-</b> hopefully with both <span style="font-style: italic;">Alphabet and Numbers </span>written on it is a very useful item to have in your kit. I found my Cipher Wheel useful twice in the same hour during a Baltimore Hunt doing both Caesar Ciphers and Numerical Letter shifts. --- My own code disk, which I designed myself, I keep down to a five, or six inch size for ease of handling and storage.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>----<span style="font-size:0;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="spnmessagetext">E-Mail me at <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-style: italic;"><a href="mailto:Rassilon@erols.com">Rassilon@erols.com</a></span> if you would like a copy of this pattern and I will be happy to share it with you.<br /></span></span></span></div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/SpyWheelSmall.jpg" height="241" width="241" /></span><br /></div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">9.</span> Pre-made work sheets with the “Alphabet” typed out neatly on "one line" in three places on the sheet.</span></b></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"> These are useful if you have to make new alphabet ciphers, based on a Key Word, or Phrase you are given. --- I’ve run into these ciphers several times so far. --- Every time you have to stop and rewrite the full alphabet, it costs your team nearly a full Minute. And Races have been won, or lost by One, or Two minutes alone. These again are kept in the back of my Clear Report Folder. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-weight: normal;font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;" ><strong>ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRST...<br /></strong></span></span></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><br />10.</span> Water!!!</b> Not only to drink... but to use in the hunt as well.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>I went to a Drug store and bought a Small <b>Travel Size Spray Bottle</b>, about three inches long. The sprayer holds about an two ounces of water and costs about one dollar.--- Perfect for Water Clues. --- The sprayer does not over-soak the message, as does dipping the clue. You are less likely to lose your Secret Message due to drowning. Most Water Clues tend to be a one shot deal.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="font-size:0;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/WaterBottles.jpg" /></span></span></span><br /></div></div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">11.</span> Power Bar Snacks:- – </span></b></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Ravenchase Hunts, on average, are about three and a half hours in length. And while there is always a wonderful Restaurant to look forward to at the end of the Hunt; a Power bar, or two, in your pack is a great way to take the edge off your hunger, and keeps your Energy levels up and your Mind Sharp. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img style="width: 224px; height: 167px;" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/PowerBarPlus.jpg" /> </span></b></span></p></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">12.</span> A Flashlight:-</span></b></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">-- A Small Strong <span style="font-style: italic;">L.E.D.</span> Light --<b> Yes</b>. --- I bought mine off of E-Bay for about Seven dollars and is a “<b>3 in 1 Torch”</b> ---- Regular light, Ultra-Violet (<span style="font-style: italic;">black light</span>) and a Laser Pointer in one. --- <b>Regular Light</b>, useful when searching dark corners of shelters, for hidden Clue Scrolls and Bonus Coins.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>--- The <b>Black Light</b>, for reading Hidden Messages given to you. And the <b>Laser Pointer</b> is great for large Monument Plaques. --- Squinting and pointing with your finger, you can lose your place many times messing up your count, when deciphering<span style="font-size:0;"> </span><i>- Ottendorf Ciphers…<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p></span><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img style="width: 149px; height: 149px;" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/3_in_1_Torch_g.jpg" /> </span></i></span></p></span></div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">13.</span> A Small Pocket Calculator:-</b> – Many times during hunts I have encountered Number Ciphers,<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>where I had to crunch, or subtract numbers down to find my true substitution numbers. <i>(My own higher math centers of my brain have been Dead since High School. --- A Calculator is a God Sent)</i> --- Also, highly useful at the end of the race when figuring out the Bar Tab, and who owes what, from your teammates at the party afterwards. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/Calculator15494.jpg" height="184" width="184" /></span><br /></div></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">14.</span> Magnet and String:- </b>Twenty five feet of heavy cotton string rolled up.<b> </b>I have heard and read of them being used in Ravenchase hunts to retrieve clue scrolls from pits and gullies, but thus far have not encountered them in my own hunts. --- For myself, I bought <b><u>(2)</u> <u>Telescoping Pens</u></b><u> </u><span style="font-weight: bold;">with Magnetic Tips.</span> They extend out 26" inches can be clipped on to string loops easily and has a magnetic tip that can pick up 2 1/2 pounds. ---- They are also highly<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>useful for counting Memorial Bricks under your feet, and once again Word counting on large historical wall plaques. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/MagnetString.jpg" height="140" width="363" /></span><br /></div></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">15.</span> Mirror:- – A Small Hand Held Mirror . </b>I carry a<b> <u>Unbreakable “Metal” Boy Scout Camping Mirror.</u> </b>--- Pocket Mirrors are very useful for looking under things like park benches, Phone Boxes, or the other side of Fence bars and railings,<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>for Hidden Clues taped just out of sight. Great for reading Da Vinci <span style="font-style: italic;">Reversed Ciphers</span>.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/mirror8501-200x200-1.jpg" /> </span></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="spnmessagetext" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;">16.</span></b></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"> <b>A Small Pocket Compass:-</b> --- Unless you were born with a perfect sense of direction, a Pocket Compass is useful to orient yourself to your map.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>--- I lost fifteen minutes on a hunt, simply because I was holding the Map the wrong way up.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>--- <i>Live and Learn!</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/Pocket_compass_BL.jpg" height="183" width="203" /> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">17.</span> QUARTERS:- </span></b><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Yes</span><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;">, </span></b><span style="font-family:Verdana;">it sounds strange, but having at least Three Dollars worth of Quarters in your kit bag will have several strange and wonderful purposes. <span style="font-weight: bold;">One:</span> In the event your Cell phone fails you, you can use a Public Phone to call in for help. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Two:</span> On several Hunts, the "<span style="font-style: italic;">All Important</span>" clue scroll was hidden in a Public Newspaper Box, underneath the regular papers, or perhaps in the door. --- The Quarters can be your <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">"Opensaysme!"</span> </span>to the locked-away clue (<span style="font-style: italic;">Ravenchase Clue Writers can be very, very, "Sneaky"</span> when hiding clues) <span style="font-weight: bold;">Three: </span>The coins are great addition to your kit for survival against Street People and Panhandlers, while you are racing around the city. And perhaps your gift to the poor, and less fortunate, will be adding good <span style="font-style: italic;">Karma</span> to your quest, and for the Win. </span><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://z.about.com/d/coins/1/0/l/8/-/-/State_Quarter_Values_Prices_300x150.jpg"><img style="width: 300px; cursor: pointer; height: 150px;" alt="" src="http://z.about.com/d/coins/1/0/l/8/-/-/State_Quarter_Values_Prices_300x150.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><br />18.</span> A Camera:- (<i>Optional</i>) </span></b></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">It is great to record the fun<b> </b>of a Ravenchase Hunt. But, to be honest, many times I am rushing around so much I completely forget to take Pictures. --- <b>But, there is a plus to having a Camera Person on your team.</b> --- In one race, I could have shaved ten minutes off my race when I needed to refer to a site I already visited and re-read a plaque I saw, but I did not have the picture. --- In another race, our team was "saved" by our teammate, <i>“Holly from Down Under,”</i><span style="font-size:0;"> </span>because she had taken the one a single photograph of a Historical Plaque we needed in order to correct a major mistake in our final answer. --- </span></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Thank you, Holly!!! We Miss you!</span></span></span></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="font-size:0;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/canonA590Sm.jpg" height="154" width="175" /> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><strong><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">19.</span> A Code Book:-</span></b></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"> <span style="font-style: italic;">Yes!</span> -- but, for mine, I copied out those codes I have encountered in the past and reduced the weight of my code book down to less than a eight, or nine ounces. <b><i><u>(Remember Weight is the enemy on a hunt!—Travel as light as you can!)</u></i></b><span style="font-size:0;"> </span>One of my friends carried a five pound code book in her backpack up the side of a mountain during the Harper’s Ferry Hunt, and nearly killed herself doing so. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.guybunce.co.uk/manor/code/virgenere.htm"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><i><u><span style="font-family:Verdana;">The VIGENERE Cipher Grid</span></u></i></b></span></a><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"> should always be <b>PAGE ONE</b> in your code book. ---- Learn especially how to use it, and read it quickly. --- For myself, I also carry a small clear right angle triangle about five inches long at all times to aid in my quick decipherments. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">If you buy one code book for your bookshelf, buy the best. <i><u><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Codes-Ciphers-Cryptic-Clandestine-Communication/dp/1579120407/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1231469919&sr=8-1"><strong>Codes, Ciphers & Other Cryptic & Clandestine Communication by Fred B. Wrixon (2005).</strong></a> </u></i>But this is <u>far too heavy</u> to take on a hunt, unless your are in a driving event<span style="font-size:0;">. </span>It weighs almost five pounds. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">A better one to carry with you is a light weight paperback called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ciphers-Secret-Writing-Breaking-Skills/dp/0486247619/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1231469805&sr=8-2"><i><u><strong>“Codes, Ciphers and Secret Writing” by Martin Gardner</strong></u></i></a><span style="font-size:0;"> </span>This book contains a great overview of codes and Ciphers for the beginner. --- <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">But, Don’t Obsessive or “Panic” Over This!</span> --- Ravenchase Adventures makes game codes <i>“Challenging,”</i> but they <i>“Want”</i> you to break them. --- A good general overview of famous codes will always help you endlessly in your Quest for the Gold! <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/CodeBooks.jpg" /></span></i><br /></div></div><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">20.</span> ALKA SELTZER:-</b><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>This will never help you solve any clues, or reveal secret messages; but a few packs in your bag,<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>is great for the feasting after the hunt and the after effects of the Ravenchase Party.--- You'll want a clear head for Day Two of a Hunt, or if you have to go back to work. </span>--- <span class="spnmessagetext"><i>Fuzzy Heads and Upset Stomachs, do not a winning team make. </i></span>--- <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/Alka-Seltzer.jpg" height="165" width="219" /> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">21.</span> A Bag to keep everything in:-</strong> </span></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Over-the-shoulder Side Bags a'la <span style="font-style: italic;">"Indiana Jones"</span> are the best; rather than Backpacks, as they allows quick and easy access for you, even if you are on the run. --- For myself, I bought a <i>“Israel Parachute’s Bag</i>” off of E-bay and added my own logo to it. --- It Contains three inner sectional compartments and has a front button-down pocket. --- Ravenchase Adventure’s will, sometimes, provide you with a <i>Over-the-Shoulder</i> Bag, or <i>Fanny Packs</i>, but never count on them being there. --- Every race from Ravenchase is <span style="font-style: italic;">unique</span>… which makes every Race a New and Fun Adventure to look forward to!</span></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/BlackBag2.jpg" /></span><br /></div></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><b><u><span style="color:blue;">What to Wear on a Ravenchase Hunt:<span style="font-size:0;"><br /></span></span></u></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;" ><b><u><span style="color:blue;"><span style="font-size:0;"></span><em>Very Important</em></span></u></b></span><b><span style=";font-family:Verdana;color:blue;" ><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;" ><em>!</em></span><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/IndyandMarionPrint.jpg" /> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">We all dream in our hearts of looking like <i>Indiana Jones</i>, or if you’re Female, <span style="font-size:0;"></span><i>Marion Ravenwood</i>. --- But, to be honest,<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>in all my hunts with Ravenchase Adventures, I have yet to find a single use for a Bull Whip... <b><br /></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><b>What is far more Useful on a Hunt is a Great pair of Walking, or Jogging Shoes!</b> ----I promise you; you will pound a lot of pavement out there on a Hunt.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Open-toed shoes, Sandals and Flip-Flops, may look great... but, are never very practical on a Hunt. --- <b>Best Rule of Thumb to follow is...</b> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Dress for the Weather</span>. --- <b>Dress comfortably</b>.---<span style="font-size:0;"> </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">Wear your</span> <b>Play Clothes</b>, because you will, I promise you, get a little dirty searching among the Bushes and Ivy for your hidden clue scrolls. --- Remember, you are there to have <span style="font-style: italic;">FUN</span>... not to model for <i><strong>"Vogue</strong></i>" Magazine!!! --- For myself, I highly recommend <em>"Cargo "</em> style of Pants and Shorts. --- The extra large pockets are great for carrying and distributing the weight of your stuff, and again giving you easy access to it all. ---If you are smart enough to keep track of which Pocket you put it in. <o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><br /></span></p><div style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><b><u><span style="color:blue;">Winning</span></u></b><u><span style="color:blue;"> <b>Strategies from the </b></span></u><br /></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><u><span style="color:blue;"><b><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" >Famous Hunters out there themselves:</span></span><o:p></o:p></b></span></u></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Just to add on:</span></b></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"> <i>Team A-Squared</i> always brings a notebook filled with those plastic sheet protectors <i>(first race we ever ran, it rained. I STILL can't get the smell of wet, burnt map out of those shorts...)</i> which has the added benefit of getting those pesky scrolls to lay flat.--- I think <i>“Team Brilliants”</i> should empty out their kit bags, you might find a whole other team in one, and a full service bar in the other<br />--<i>- Alexnanji</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">---------------------------------------------------------<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;">On our hunts</span></b></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">, we did, however, when we remembered, bring a <span style="font-weight: bold;">Dictionary</span> and have A <b><i>"Phone<span style="font-size:0;">--</span>friend"</i></b><i>,</i> who was near a computer, if we needed directions, or to due a quick look up of something on the internet. --- But, if you really want to take home the Gold, it pays to use "All" your resources. But with Ravenchase, we always had tons of fun.<br />---<span style="font-size:0;"> </span><i>Jencrush <o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">---------------------------------------------------------</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Team Communication Rules are also a must!!!</span></b></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"> You want to establish a <span style="font-style: italic;">“</span><b style="font-style: italic;">SAFE WORD</b><span style="font-style: italic;">,”</span> or Hand Signal that your Team members can use and that would be somewhat unobtrusive to other teams, to indicate you got the clue at the location.--- </span></span><span class="spnmessagetext" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:130%;" ><i><u><span style="font-family:Verdana;">“<b>HEY GUYS, I GOT IT!!! It’s Right over Here; behind the Tree!!!”</b></span></u></i></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="font-family:Verdana;"> </span></b></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Somehow just doesn’t... REALLY... Work... Well</span>... for getting ahead of other teams during a chase.<br />---<span style="font-size:0;"> </span><i>Chase Monkey Dave<br /></i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">-----------------------------------------------------------<br /><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><i><o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="spnmessagetext"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;"><b><i><span style=";font-family:Verdana;color:red;" >See You All on the Next Hunt!!! – Rassilon<br /><br /></span></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></p><p align="center"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>"Remember, there is a little <em>"Indiana Jones"</em> in all of us..."</strong><br /></span></span><br /></p><b><i><span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:12;color:red;" ></span></i></b><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:12;color:red;" ><img style="width: 152px; height: 271px;" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Bloger%20Album/indiana-jones-costume-01.jpg" /></span></i></b><br /></div><b><i><span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:12;color:red;" ></span></i></b></span>Rassilonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01721185481568744682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049559609067254814.post-54345318413135108132009-02-25T20:36:00.008-05:002009-03-04T10:27:45.419-05:00Harpers Ferry Hunt<p class="MsoBodyText" align="center"><span style="font-size: 180%;"><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><b><span style="">Treasure Hunters<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></span></p> <div align="center"> </div> <p class="MsoBodyText" align="center"><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-size: 180%;"><b><span style="">First Annual Hunt<br />Harpers Ferry, West Virginia</span></b></span><b><span style=""> <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" spt="75" preferrelative="t" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f"> <v:stroke joinstyle="miter"> <v:formulas> <v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"> <v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"> <v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"> <v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"> <v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"> <v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"> <v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"> <v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"> </v:formulas> <v:path extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" connecttype="rect"> <o:lock ext="edit" aspectratio="t"> </v:shapetype><v:shape id="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:55.5pt;"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image001.jpg" title="Wingdin01"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/Wingdin01.jpg" /><br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 130%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style=""><span style="font-size: 100%;">October 14<sup>th</sup>, 2006</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style=""><span style="font-size: 130%;">A Rassilon Review</span> <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style=""><span style="font-size: 85%;">by</span> <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></span></i></p> <div align="center"> </div> <h3 align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><i>Geoffrey G. Wynkoop</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></h3> <div align="center"> </div> <p class="MsoBodyText" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></p> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> <img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/HuntLogo.jpg" /> <br /></span><span style=""><br /></span></span></div> <p class="MsoBodyText" align="center"> <!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1026" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:162pt;"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image002.jpg" title="HuntLogo"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--></p> <div align="center"> </div> <div align="center"> </div> <h1 style="text-indent: 0in; font-style: italic;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255); font-family: Times New Roman;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-style: normal; color: blue;"></span></span></span></b></span></h1><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">“Heroes take Journeys, confront Dragons <br />And Discover The Real Treasure <br />of their Inner True Selves…” <br />Carol Lynn Pearson – American Writer<br /><br /></div><h1 style="text-indent: 0in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-size: 85%;" class="spnmessagetext"><span style="color: blue;"></span></span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-style: normal; font-size: 10px;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></h1> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Where does any Adventure begin? As in all things, at the beginning... For most of us, it can start with something as simple as a quiet conversation among friends, a newspaper article, an unexpected journey, or an ancient book, long forgotten, on a back library shelf. Adventure, is anything that encourages the imagination to take flight and believe once more in all the incredible inspiring possibilities of <i><u>“What If…”</u><o:p></o:p></i> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><i> </i><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">For myself and my fellow travelers, our journey began on Sunday June 18<sup>th</sup>, 2006 with the first airing of NBC Universal’s summer replacement series, <i>“Treasure Hunters.”</i><span style=""><i> </i> </span>A reality based TV series that pitted ten teams from every walk of life against one another in a global hunt to crack codes, discover hidden locations and find Treasure Troves valued at over Three Million Dollars; one of the largest prizes ever to be offered on a national television series.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">The show for me was intoxicating. From the very beginning, I found myself rooting for nearly every one of the teams. Each team bearing its own individual personality and identity. Teams like <i>Team Ex-CIA, The Fogal Family, The Grad Students, The Brown Family, The Wild Hanlons, Young Professionals, Team Air Force, Team Miss USA, The Geniuses and </i><i>The </i><i>Southie Boys.</i> Ten Teams in all, each to be eliminated week by week by the enigmatic overseer and host, <i>Lair Macintosh</i>, until only three teams remained. But in the end, of the remaining Teams, only one would be able to claim the ultimate prize of the Treasure itself.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">The Contestants each episode raced across the length and breadth of the United States and Northern Europe, seeking history and mysterious artifacts, all cloaked beneath various puzzles, codes and ciphers. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">The puzzles and problems within this series fired my imagination, as this series also allowed the people at home to play along via the internet with our own set of puzzles and clues, for a chance at $10,000 dollars, and to be a part of the season’s finale. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Week after week, I matched wits with the teams on the show, and with new found friends from NBC’s on-line forums; all sharing the same Passion. --- The <i>Passion</i> and the <i>Need</i> to be the first to unraveling the mystery. To Crack the Codes, Decipher the Clues and claim the right to be the one that discovered the Hidden and Final Location; even if we could never claim the Treasure for ourselves. It was simply a need to know if we were right…<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">When the series ended in the fall, it left many of my friends and myself hungering for more. We all secretly planned and hoped for a second season of the series from NBC; so that we might put in our applications and join in on the next season’s hunt, competing against all comers. But, in the meantime, this shared dream needed to be acted upon. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">My fellow travelers in this adventure, and I, began talking and researching the possibility of holding a private hunt of our own to celebrate this series. And in doing so, we discovered <i>RAVENCHASE ADVENTURES.</i> An adventure company created in 2001 by John <span class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">Czarda</span></span>, whose sole purpose was to provide Adventure and the Spirit of the Chase, to anyone that has ever dreamed of being <i>Indiana Jones, or Benjamin Gates</i><i> </i>in quest of hidden Treasure. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Hiring the company, <span class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">Ravenchase</span></span> Adventures rose to our challenge and agreed to put on an event for us in the Historic Town of Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia. What follows below is an account of my adventures, and what our <i>Treasure Hunters</i> group encountered in Harpers Ferry. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1027" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:55.5pt;height:24.75pt'"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image001.jpg" title="Wingdin01"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/Wingdin01.jpg" /><br /><!--[endif]--></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style="">Friday, October 13<sup>th</sup>, 2006<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></span></p> <div align="center"> </div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></span></p> <div align="center"> </div> <h5 align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><i><span style="font-size: 14px;"><u><span style="font-size: 130%;">“Adventures Assemble”</span></u><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></span></h5> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><i><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">After weeks of planning, my journey from Philadelphia was a pleasant four and a half hour ride by Amtrak Train to the Historic Town of Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. The trip might have been shorter, but there was an hour and a half layover in Washington D.C. before continuing on with a connecting train for my final leg. Fortunately, I had tucked the latest paperback </span></span><span style="">by Douglas Preston, <i><span class="spnmessagetext">“</span>Tyrannosaur Canyon”</i> into my bag and the time passed quickly for me, lost among its pages.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><span style=""> </span>The coming event in West Virginia was the brain child of one of my favorite on-line friends, Whitney, A.K.A. </span></span><span style=""><span style=""> </span><i>“Trsrhuntr”, </i>or <i>“Treasure”</i><span class="spnmessagetext"> for short. After weeks of planning, back and forth e-mails, forum meetings and cross referencing of everyone’s schedules, and available times off from work, a final date of Saturday October 14<sup>th</sup> was decided upon for the hunt, when all of the East Coast Teams that signed onboard for the hunt, could agree to all be there in force.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">And, as a unique bonus to our hunt, we were to have the special pleasure of looking forward to meeting several of the cast members from the original television series, <i>“Treasure Hunters.”</i> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Hearing of our planned hunt, four of the cast members tentatively promised to make a showing and run the hunt along side of us, barring any unforeseen commitments. These people included Jacob, and Todd from <i>“Team Ex-CIA,” </i>and Melissa, Kaitlyn and Kristen, of <i>“Team Miss USA.”</i> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Personally, I was especially looking forward to meeting Melissa, as we had chatted privately on-line a number of times in the NBC Forum. --- Plus, Whitney knowing I was by myself, was already hinting strongly that I might like to run on their team during the hunt to help them out. The prospect of serving on a team with three former Miss USA Contestants, had me already planning one day of shaking off these mortal coils and dying a <i>“Very” </i>happy man.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1036" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:375pt;height:124.5pt'"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image004.jpg" title="TeamsEx-Usa"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/TeamsEx-Usa.jpg" /><br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">The predicted weather reports for that weekend seemed to be in our favor; for the most part. Clear and sunny with predicted highs of about sixty-one degrees. A cool, crisp, fall day to look forward to. The autumn country side was already ablaze with a myriad of golden shades of color. But, in contrast, our predicted lows for the nights were to be in the lowers-thirties and bitterly cold. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Strangely, to me, this seemed very apropos, since it was during almost identical weather conditions that the series “<i>Treasure Hunters”</i> first began filming almost exactly one year before in September to make its summer June release on NBC Universal television.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">As the light suddenly changed, I glanced up from the pages of my novel just as my train disappeared through a long tunnel in Maryland and after several minutes emerged on the far side of the mountain in the state of West Virginia, pulling smartly into the Train Station in Harpers Ferry at 5:16 PM; literally allowing me to step from the train into the Town proper itself. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">For me it was not just passing through a mountain or from one State to the next, but a passageway through time itself. Most of the town of Harpers Ferry had been restored to appear exactly, as it might have been in 1859, when John Brown and his meager band of twenty-one followers invaded this tiny hamlet in an attempted to take over the United States Armory. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">The armory, long gone, stood roughly where the modern day Train Tracks were laid down. The town almost as small as it was a century and a half ago, today supports a population of only three hundred and seven full time residents.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1037" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:240pt;height:165pt'"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image005.jpg" title="H_F_MarylandHeightsSmall"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/H_F_MarylandHeights.jpg" /><br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Looking out my window at the town, I will confess it had been my intention to wander around its streets and byways for an hour. There was still daylight, and I wanted to make an attempt to familiarize myself with the town, exploring it first hand, before calling on my friends to come and pick me up at the station. This was where the epicenter of our hunt was to be the following day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Up to this point I had possessed only a few trifling maps and the internet web sites to guide me in all my preparations for the hunt. But, all my hopeful intentions were lost to me when, stepping down from the train, I found my friend, Whitney, was already waiting for me in the station’s parking lot ready to greet me and take me back to our campsite. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">On a side note, it’s always interesting to meet people you have known intimately for months. People you have laughed with, schemed with, plotted with and joked with; all via instant messenger, web forums and e-mails. But, in all this time I had never spoken to directly on the phone with Whitney, nor met her in person. So, I think for both of us during this first meeting, there was a strange awkward moment of, <i>“Is that really you???”</i> before exchanging greetings.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"> To this day, I have also strangely wondered far in the back of my own mind; if there was yet another smaller agenda in Whitney’s plan to pick me up so immediately from the station. A devilish clever thought, which might have been lurking in the back of her own mind.; a thought, about how to quietly knobble my early chances in placing well in this the coming event. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext">For if all truths are to be known, there was one small tiny omission that Whitney had seemingly neglected to mention to me up to now, about the preparation of this hunt. In particular, her choice of West Virginia and the town of Harpers Ferry, as our hunt location. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"> The detail Whitney overlooked mentioning to me up to now was that she and her family lived only twenty minutes drive outside of Harpers Ferry and she knew this town like the back of her hand. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Putting my bags into the back seat, we climbed into Whitney’s latest personal toy, a brand new HUMVEE. An all terrain vehicle; capable of running up and down the sides of mountains, fording rivers, crushing unsuspecting opposition under wheel, and possessing a very nice, very practical, center console cup holder for your “<i>Biggie Drink</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><span style=""> </span>Whitney, enormously pleased with her new toy, gunned the engine, threw it into reverse and we tore off out of the station’s parking lot, as if the whole of the Union Army was on our heels.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">While the speedometer needle on the dash merrily spun around twice, and the “G” forces threw me back firmly into the passenger’s seat --- all before I could fasten my seat belt. --- Whitney, cheerfully chatted on and thoughtfully gave me the “<i>Cook’s Tour”</i> of Harpers Ferry, before we headed off for the Camp. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">As several darkened shapes blurred past by my vision in quick secession; Whitney calmly pointed out, John Brown’s Fort, the High Street, the Mercantile, Stonebraker’s Bakery and the lovely Church on the hill. All these swiftly vanishing from view and into our rear view mirror, with Whitney cheerily adding, <i>“Well, that’s it! …That the entire town. Aren’t you glad you came?” <o:p></o:p></i></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><i> </i><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext">I was dumbfounded. --- I was speechless. --- I was totally amazed, because up to now I hadn’t the slightest idea that, Whitney, a Realtor by profession, possessed any secret aspirations of also becoming a <i>Naval Jet Pilot</i> as well. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">As we hurtled on down the main road at a leisurely <i style="">Mach Three</i><i>;</i> I could only sit quietly in the passenger’s seat and pray to the Gods that be, that Whitney was not going to follow up her performance with a quick <i>“Victory Roll” </i>of the HUMVEE.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1038" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:256.5pt;height:122.25pt'"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image006.jpg" title="KOAHarpersFerry"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/KOAHarpersFerry.jpg" /><br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext">The KOA Kampgrounds, where we stayed, I will mention, while a clean and fun area to stay, does seem to have a few very unusual ideas when it came to the personal comfort of its guests. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">First, when signing up, they tag everyone with a blue wristband identity tag as if you were just so much Texas Longhorn cattle; which for me, brought forth visions of the famous <i>“Twilight Zone” </i>episode, <i>“TO SERVE MAN,”</i> causing me wonder what exactly I was worth to an Alien race on the Hoof.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><span style=""> </span>Next, were the signs and constant reminders everywhere within the KOA campgrounds, that you are not Camping, with a “C,” but you are <i>“Kamping!”</i><span style=""> </span>All <b>“C’s”</b> being removed everywhere in favor of <b>“K’s. ”</b> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">The wooded site covered about fifty acres, dividing itself up into three main areas of Kabins, RV Kamp lots and Tent Kamping. I held a reservation for a private Kabin. And I suppose I should be very grateful that I even had a roof over my head, since I owe everything to, Gail, one of our on-line <i>Treasure Hunters</i> Group members. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"> Gail and her husband had booked a Kabin early on, but at the last moment bowed out of the hunt due to a family conflict, allowing me to take over their reservation. Gail kindly called the KOA in person to make sure the transfer to my name went smoothly. For mid-October, the KOA Kamp site was unexpectedly packed to the very rafters, with standing room only available. The reason why… I would discover much later. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span><span class="spnmessagetext">My own little Kabin <i>(since you could not even describe it as a Cabin)</i> was, I believe in a prior life, a converted Tool Shed purchased from a mail-order <i>SEARS Catalog</i>; onto which someone had built a small porch and a door. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext">Spartan in nature, it contained only a rustic bunk bed, a large queen size bed, and did not even possess a chair to sit down in. Nor were there any bathroom, or shower. Those facilities were all public and about seventy-five yards away. I had to supply my own bedding, blanket and pillow, as these were not a service offered by the KOA. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span class="spnmessagetext">My kabin number was also Lucky #13, which came complete with some bloody finger marks pre-etched, or perhaps clawed onto my door. The marks drawing comments from everyone that saw them. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Number #13 also turned out to be the one single Kabin, in the entire camp, completely devoid of Heat...(<i> a very nice air conditioner, </i><i>which work splendidly and efficiently, </i><span style=""> </span>) but no Heat. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Bare in mind this was October. --- Friday the 13<sup>th.<span style=""> </span>----</sup> I was staying in Kabin #13.--- In a<span style=""> </span>remote wooded Summer Camp. --- Miles from town. --- Dark and bitterly cold at night. --- All I needed to complete this intriguing tableau, was a tall ominous fellow with a<i> par’ chant</i> for Hockey Masks and oversized Machetes. --- Things were not seemingly boding well for our Hero-at-Large. </span></span><br /><br /><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">With the temperature dipping down in the thirties at night, naturally I <i>"FROZE"</i> all weekend long; having brought only two thin blankets and bedding with me. As I lay in my bed that night, and small icicles began to slowly form on the tip of my nose; I turned on my flashlight and carefully reexamined the blue <i>“cattle” </i>band on my wrist. I wanted<span style=""> </span>to see if there were indications on it that mentioned I was perhaps already slated for the Frozen Meats Department in the Alien’s food larder. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext">My angel and savior that night was Whitney, who earlier kindly drove me to a large retail outlet store she knew of, and I bought myself some sweat pants and heavy socks to sleep in to survive the icy conditions of my Kabin. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Whitney, (<i>bless her heart</i>) was a real Gem and a <i>Treasure</i> all weekend long, acting as Hostess and Mom to us all during the hunt.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <div align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 130%;"><b><span style="">Saturday - October 14<sup>th</sup>,</span></b><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div> <div align="center"> </div> <div align="center"> </div> <h3 align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 130%;"><i><u>Breakfast flambé </u></i></span><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 130%;"><i>…</i></span><u><o:p></o:p></u></span></span></h3> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><span class="spnmessagetext">The next morning, most of our group rising early, were starting to make an appearance and checking in at Whitney’s Kabin. A diverse crew of on-line friends, known only by a mixture of real names, and their online personas. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">We had Britney (<i>Dollylama’s daughter</i>) and her best friend. Mike Sky, a dealer in wine and his wife, Bajki Fudala-Taylor. JFray and Lady Diane. Whitney and her daughter, Taylor.<span style=""> </span>T_Hunter, a programmer, and his code cracking daughter, Victoria.<span style=""> </span>J15Bell and her friend Sluggy. </span></span>Flidais<span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">, (<i>a.k.a.</i> Brittany) and her best friend, Laura, both Middle School Science Teachers. And of course myself, Rassilon. Before our eleven o’clock start time came for the hunt, there were still several more people expected to arrive and check in.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent3"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""> </span>Whitney, who had gotten up early that morning, and with my help stoking the fire, began her day by attempting to prepare breakfast for all of us over an open fire grill. A feat she had never attempted before, outside of a real kitchen. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent3"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent3"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext">This terrific idea, and ultimate showing of love and affection for us all, lasted only until two full rashers of bacon, and its resulting liquid fat, caught fire and leapt to life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent3"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent3"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext">The resulting fire created a sheet of flames and smoke high enough to bring forth envisionments of <i>The Great Fire of London in 1666,</i> if not the somewhat smaller <i>Chicago Fire of 1871,</i> nearly burning down the front porch of her own deluxe Kabin and perhaps half of the KOA site along with it.</span><br /><br /><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span class="spnmessagetext">After the flames were brought under control, and Last Rites were solemnly pronounced over the bacon. A "<i>Unanimous Vote"</i> was taken by all concerned, with the one <i>“Abstention”</i> from Whitney herself; who <i>sincerely</i> wanted to give it another go. <o:p></o:p></span></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent3" style="text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext">--- Our stalwartly group elected to set forth on foot across the Kamp to the early morning Pancake and Sausage Breakfast that was offered as a service by the KOA Kampground. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent3"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext">We reasoned it was far safer for all of us just to <i>“Pay”</i> for our breakfast, rather than miss the hunt, and to have bare the heavier expense of renting a large school bus to take us all on mass for a visit to the <i>Intensive Burns Center</i> at the county’s local hospital. Reasoning, that Medical Insurers rarely give out group discounts. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">At about 9:45 AM, after our group</span></span><span style=""> had returned from eating the KOA out of house and home. A silver Mercedes AMD55 convertible, possessing specialized licence plates reading, in abbreviated letters, <i>“Treasure Hunter” </i>rolled up in front of Whitney’s Kabin and parked itself quietly. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Alighting from the vehicle with style and grace, a tall dark hair man with slender build, rakish good looks and dark sunglasses like a movie star, strolled across the green grass and presented himself with a wistful smile. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">As he did so, Whitney and nearly every other woman in the group went weak at the knees. --- J. Jacob Porter, from Team Ex-CIA had arrived on the scene, just as he had promised.<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Todd from <i>Team Ex-CIA </i>was to have joined us as well, by a last minute illness, kept him home and in bed for the weekend; but sending us all his very best. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Now, I will give you that Jacob is tall, handsome, <span class="spnmessagetext">dashing and I would not fault any woman who might wish to run off with him. --- In fact if I possessed a girlfriend at the time and she suddenly told me she was leaving me for Jacob; I would not only understand, but perhaps even help her pack for her journey.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"> For myself, my preference towards women is unwavering. --- Three envisionments of Beauty in particular. ---<span style=""> </span>But, for all my hopes and private dreams, there was to be no second vehicle to follow Jacob’s grand entrance. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">No door would swing open, allowing me to witness the earthly embodiment of <i>the Three Graces</i> descending and alight themselves upon the earth, letting my own heart to sigh and beat on a fiery pace. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><i><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Team Miss USA</span></span></i><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">, who was to join us that weekend, ran into strong scheduling conflicts at the last minute, and all sweetly and politely apologized for having to bow out; sending their regrets to all for not being able to join us on the hunt that weekend. --- I told you things were not boding well for our Hero-at-Large in lucky Kabin number #13. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Despite of my visible disappointment over the loss of <i>Team Miss USA</i>. And being personally hampered from birth with a total lack of all the usual social refinements and graces so easily instilled in others. I should like to believe I was tolerably well-mannered, gracious and polite to Jacob. --- This was of course, after Whitney stopped swooning in front of Jacob, long enough to allow me to be finally presented to him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">As we chatted about his experiences on the show, I presented Jacob with a small token of my own, to thank him for his showing up for our hunt. It was just a small souvenir I had found for him, and to pass along to his fellow teammates from <i>Treasure Hunters.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">The present I decided to give Jacob, was something that seemed decidedly fitting for a man who had once been contracted out to our Government’s CIA department. My souvenir I gave to him was three <i>Secret Decoder</i> Belt buckles, I discovered in my travels.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1028" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:122.25pt;height:83.25pt'"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image008.jpg" title="32_secret_decoder_spinner_belt_buck"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/secret_decoder.jpg" /><br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Jacob, admittedly, was tickled pink by them. But for me, in pure hindsight, which as everyone knows is forever <i>20-20</i> vision.<span style=""> </span>I probably should have waited to present Jacob with the Decoders at the party <i>"After" </i>our Race was over. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">I mention this simply because, during the hunt, Jacob, was able to put my little souvenir to good use, by immediately using the decoder to crack one of the clue scrolls we were given by Ravenchase Adventures. <i>A </i><i>true story …I promise you </i><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext">Had <i>Team Miss USA </i>been able to make it to our gathering, it had been my intention to present them with gifts as well. In fact three very special Team T-Shirts for them to wear during the hunt. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">During the <i>Treasure Hunters</i> series, the teams were sent to Paris, France in search of the all important Cryptex, and the Secret Society that guard the artifact for them.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><br /> One of their clues led them to the Eiffel Tower and eventually to </span></span><span style="">Edouard de Laboulaye’s <span class="spnmessagetext">Lady, the Statue of Liberty, </span>on the Ile de Cygnes near the Grenelle bridge. This is the same statue that was featured recently in the film <i>“National Treasure II: Book of Secrets.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></span> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><span style=""> </span> At the foot of this statue the girls found a stone plaque that read:</span></span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><b><span style="">“They Hid Beneath the Streets of Paris<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></span></p> <div align="center"> </div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><b><span style="">Clean the Streets of Paris <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></span></p> <div align="center"> </div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><i><b><span style="">To find your Path”</span></b></i></span><span style="color: blue;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""></span> Unfortunately the girls took this clue a little too literally, and with the buckets and scrub brushes they found next to the statue, they began to wash every square inch of Paris they could lay their hands upon; thinking that their clue was somewhere underneath all the dirt and grime that lay beneath their feet. </span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> Painfully, what the clue was actually referring to, was to an ancient street map of Paris they had found earlier in the hunt. All they had to do was to pull out the map and wash the tempera paint off of it. Their next clue lay just beneath the paint. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> This one single <i>misstep</i> and the hours lost, took them from <i>Second place</i> to <i>Last place</i> within the hunt. And just as they finally figured the meaning of message out, their cell phone rang and they were told by Lair, that their team had been eliminated from the race. Leaving Melissa only to sadly lament, <i>“This is not the outfit I wanted to be eliminated in!!!”</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Playing on this final mental image of them in the series, as well as adding my own theme from the old west of, <i>“The Girls that Cleaned up Paris!”</i> I used my photo programs and cleverly produced a lasting image of the trio standing before the Statue of Liberty all holding Mops, Scrub brushes and Brooms with the motto above saying, <i>“We’ll always have Paris!”</i> The image I then had printed on Pink T-Shirts to present to them that day at the hunt.</span></span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Later, I would contact and send these presents off in care of Melissa and the girls, and I received several wonderful e-mails and letters from <i>Team Miss USA</i>, saying how much they loved them. Melissa especially telling me she likes to wear the shirt to conventions she’s sent to, as a reminded that <i>Miss USA Contestants</i> are not the delicate Pageant Princesses most people take them for.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext">In return for my thoughtfulness, the girls of <i>Team Miss USA</i> sent me an autographed photograph of all of them, which I have framed, and is now sitting near my desk, even as I write this. ---- When I look at it, my heart still sighs a bit and wonders about a race that might have been; had the girls been able to make it to Harpers Ferry that weekend.</span></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyTextIndent2" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1029" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:168pt;height:264.75pt'"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image010.jpg" title="TEAMUSASHIRT017"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/TEAMUSASHIRT06G.jpg" /><br /><span class="spnmessagetext"><o:p></o:p></span></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><b><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></span></p> <div align="center"> </div> <p class="MsoHeading7" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><b><i><u>The RAVEN Has Landed</u></i></b></span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span><span style="">Our Ravenchase Hunt began at 11:00 Am. Three days earlier, all members of our group had received a PowerPoint presentation in our e-mails, featuring a cryptic poem and a cipher. Understand what the poem is telling you, you could crack the cipher and the revealed message would tell you the secret location where you were to begin the hunt. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Our clue led us to a ruined Cotton Mill on Virginius Island, which was apart of the Harpers Ferry National Park and about a half mile outside of the town.<span style=""> </span>Finding the island was easy… Getting on to it, was yet another matter. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">The main bridge leading onto the island was unexpectedly gated and locked, so all our members had to backtrack and use our own ingenuity to ford the waterways surrounding the island and follow the nature trails back to the Cotton mill. It was here we found, Josh Czarda, the President of Ravenchase Adventures, quietly sitting on a large rock waiting to greet us. At his feet lay the famous Ravenchase Chest, containing our clue scrolls and all our equipment needed for the coming hunt. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="blue24px"><span style="">Joshua Czarda, is an interesting man of thirty-six, blonde haired and gently charming in his manner. He has a </span></span><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="">culinary background, a law degree, and was working with the <i>United Network for Organ Sharing</i>, before chucking it all, to found <i>Ravenchase Adventures</i>. The corporate name, coming as a small tip of the hat to the American Master, Edgar Allen Poe, and his creation <i>“The Raven,” </i>and for being the first America creator of an adventure novel based on the science of cryptography, “<i>The Gold Bug.”</i></span></strong><strong style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><strong><span style=""><span style="font-weight: normal;">Our first order of business was simply to wait. Sadly, in part, for my own team to arrive. I had carpooled over to the site with Mike Sky and his wife, Bajki, and together, we found the “</span><i style="font-weight: normal;">longest</i><span style="font-weight: normal;">” of all the possible routes to the Mill. And we also had to wait for our British group to arrive, lead by a young woman I only knew online as, </span><i style="font-weight: normal;">Mayogirl</i><span style="font-weight: normal;">.<br /></span><o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><strong><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><strong><span style=""></span></strong></span><span style="font-weight: normal; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 100%;">The Brit’s Team had only about five members, but one of their members in particular caught my eye, and made me smile every time I saw him that day. He was a small lad of five, or six years old, blonde hair and wearing a wool cap with a Pirate’s Skull on it.</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><strong><span style=""> <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><strong><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><strong><span style=""><span style="font-weight: normal;">I smiled, because every time someone mentioned the treasure hunt to him, his eyes lit up, becoming as broad as saucers and his face took on a secretive gleeful look. He was the very personification of everything we all felt that day. “</span><i style="font-weight: normal;">We were going on a Treasure Hunt!!!</i>” <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><strong><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="">While Josh Czarda explained the rules of the game to us, he passed out among the Team leaders a zippered belt pack and our clue scrolls. Looking in the pack first, I found an interesting array of items. --- A UV Flashlight, a multi-colored decoder disk of symbols and letters, a cigarette lighter, a small mirror, a business card with Josh’s phone number on it and most interesting of all a twenty disk WORD-SPIN® which was in effect, exactly like a decoder wheel invented by Thomas Jefferson nearly two hundred years ago.</span></strong><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;"> <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">Know the correct placement of the numbered disks, align the proper letters, and somewhere on the cylinder your decoded message would appear. The code is impossible to break without the cylinder.</span></strong><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Moving on to the hunt, Josh Czarda cautioned us that there were to be a couple of special details to take note of. First, we were to look carefully, because there was to be one actor hidden along our game path. But, Josh added apologetically, we were to look for a “<i>Man</i>,” not a “<i>Woman</i>,” as one of our clue scrolls would tell us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Next, there were to be bonus points to be had in the form of several golden coins hidden at different locations. The small Gold coins were worth ten minutes off our over-all-time. But, somewhere hidden, there was one Large gold coin that was worth twenty minutes off. This single coin that might take any team from third place to first place in an instant. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Taking a gold coin from his pants pocket to show us, Josh failed to notice that an extra coin dropped from his pocket and landed by his feet. But someone else did, Victoria, T_Hunter’s sharp eyed daughter, saw it drop. Picking up the coin, she presented it back to Josh and asked him if this one counted? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Realizing that he had just been, <i>“Hoisted by his own Petard,”</i> Josh laughed and said, <i>“Yes, the first coin of the day had been found.”</i> The Race had not even started and every team, except T_Hunter’s team, was now exacted <i>Ten Minutes behind. <o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><i> </i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">At 11:25 Am the race began. My own team consisted of Mike Sky, his wife <strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">Bajki</span></strong> and myself, running under the name of <i>“Team Rass-Sky.”</i> A horrible Team name I know, but it was the invention of Mike Sky and it was entered into the Ravenchase log before I could make up any better one. But, I did at least like Mike’s Wife’s name. <i><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">Bajki</span></strong></i><strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">, as in Polish it translates as <i>“Fairy Tale”</i> </span></strong><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">It had been my intention to run the race with Brittany (a.ka. Flidais) and her friend Laura, who were already missing a teammate, and were running the race under the Team name of “<i>Bert & Ernie</i>.” I planned to offer my services to them and make the Team Name <i>“Bert, Ernie and Gonzo!” ( </i><i>My personal favorite Muppet) <o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><i> </i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">But, before leaving the camp, Mike Sky hearing I was alone, caught me by the arm, threw his own arm around me and before I could speak, proudly announced that we would take on all comers as a team. <i>( ***Note to Self: - Consider seriously, taking that night course in <u>Assertive Training</u><u>.</u>)<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><i> </i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Sorting through our clue scrolls, I think all teams almost at once spotted Clue #4, as being related to the very place where we were standing. The Poem spoke of the Island and the Mill and of a history openly written. The rest of the clue was an Ottendorf cipher. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">It was almost comical for my team to look up from our clue sheets, and realize that nearly every other team was reading and finishing the same clue at the same time. Everyone knowing exactly where they had to go next; the Historical Marker for the Cotton Mill. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Twenty-one pairs of eyes exchanged glances, smiled a bright warm smile and with a broad sidestep, worthy of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, we all hightailed it on mass for the Marker. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Amid a flurry of pencils and hushed mumbling whispers reading out the sign, the cipher quickly decoded for our teams as, <b>“<i>In the Tunnels Below, seek the…</i>.”<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><b> </b><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><i><span style="">(Here with apologizes to all, I must remain purposefully Vague about certain details of the hunt. As part of my Gentlemen’s agreement with Ravenchase Adventures, I may write of these hunts, but I am never to reveal too much of the hunt locations, in case these sites are ever used again in future.</span></i><span style=""><i>)</i> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Beneath the ruins of the Cotton Mill were the old water tunnels that use to provide power to the turbines when the Mill was in full operation in 1848. The tunnels, nine feet in height and perhaps forty feet in length, honeycombed the site in perhaps four, or five different places. The only question was which of these tunnels did the clue refer to, and what was hidden there?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">For the next ten minutes, all our teams worked like an army of ants, crawling over every inch of the tunnels. At one point I found myself standing and working next to Jacob. Jacob was running the event with JFray and Lady Diane under the Team Name <i>“The Leesburg Seekers”</i> as they were from nearby Leesburg, Virginia. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Jacob and I, it appeared, both had the same idea at the same time, and were searching the dark with our Black Light flashlights, hoping that one of the walls would phosphoresce and reveal the secret hiding place, or at least an </span><span style="font-size: 130%;"><b><span style="">“X”</span></b></span><span style=""><b> </b>marks the spot.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">We were perhaps now twenty minutes into the race. My team was already ten minutes behind, due to the gold coin T_Hunter’s team found, and still no team had let out a squeal that they had found the secret location in the tunnels. That’s when everything came to a sudden and grinding rip roaring halt. --- Word came down from above that we were all to stop what we were doing, and return immediately to the big rock. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Arriving on the surface and squinting against the daylight, our teams discovered Josh Czarda standing next to the big rock, and standing next to him, wearing his official Smokey the Bear hat and badge was a National Park Service Ranger, ordering us all to “<i>Cease and Desist</i>.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">We were to abandon Virginius Island <i>immediately</i> and return to either where we came from, or to the center of Harpers Ferry. Virginius Island was closed, and officially off limits for that day. --- What happened??? --- Well… believe it or not, the <i>Klu Klux Klan</i> happened!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><u><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><i><b><span style="">“WHERE ARE THE NUTS???”</span></b></i></span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></span></u></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">A small history lesson for you --- In the early evening hours of Saturday, October 16, 1859 John Brown and his band of twenty-one followers invaded the town of Harpers Ferry in hopes of stirring up and arming a slave revolt with the guns held at the United States Armory. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">This raid on the Armory, as history would record, would end in utter failure. Today, some historians have gone as far as to view this defeat, as the first victory for the South and for Slavery, even though the American Civil War would not officially begin for another two years.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">One hundred and forty-seven years later, the weekend of our hunt, two days before the anniversary of John Brown’s Raid; the <i>Klu Klux Klan </i>decided to commemorate this historical event by holding a rally in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. But, they were not the only ones to show up in Harpers Ferry to remember. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">On this particular Saturday, the <i>“Klu Klux Klan”</i> showed up. The <i>“Protestors“ </i>against the KKK showed up. The <i>“Civil War Recreationists”</i> showed up. (Both the <i>North</i> and the <i>South </i>Contingencies<i> </i>in full Military garb<i>. </i>) The <i>“<strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">Mr. Lincoln Returns to Harpers Ferry”</span></strong><b> </b></i>pageant showed up. The <i>National Park Rangers</i> showed in force to oversee order, which included the able assist of a borrowed <i>National Guard Helicopter </i><span style="">circling </span>continuously over head. And topping off this prominent guest list, and perhaps the most ludicrous of all, considering the circumstances, was the <i>“Love Your Neighbor Festival”</i> being held in the town’s central park.<b><i><o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1039" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:300pt;height:227.25pt'"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image012.jpg" title="HarpersFerryGang05"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/HarpersFerryGang05.jpg" /><br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">For a town with a full time population of only three hundred and seven residents, this weekend population explosion was beyond belief. And caught up somewhere in the middle of all these events was our own “<i>Treasure Hunters</i>” reunion group. --- To say that we were <i>“slightly out-numbered,”</i> would be the understatement of the year.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Somewhere out in the Universe, I am sure, <i>The Fates</i> were laughing at us. Because, as the Fates would also have it, my friend Whitney, who pulled together this hunt for us; had also found time to make up a very special T-Shirt to sell, commemorating our “<i>Treasure Hunters”</i> Reunion that weekend. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Emblazon on the front of the T-Shirt, is the same colorful image you see at the top of this report suggesting the time period of Harpers Ferry and John Brown. And beneath it were the words:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255); font-size: 130%;"><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><b><span style="">“2006 Treasure Hunters<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></span></p> <div align="center"> </div> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255); font-size: 130%;"><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><b><span style=""><span style=""> </span>Get-Together <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></span></p> <div align="center"> </div> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255); font-size: 130%;"><i><span style="">Harper’s Ferry, WV.”</span></i></span><i><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><b><i><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">However, on the reverse side of the shirt, Whitney, on a whim, also added a secondary message, that boldly read:<span style="font-size: 130%;"> </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255); font-size: 130%;"><b><i><span style="color: blue;">“</span></i></b></span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255); font-size: 130%;"><b><i><span style="">Where are the Nuts”</span></i></b></span><span style=""><b><i> </i></b>The message being a secret anagram for our group members, translating as <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255); font-size: 130%;"><i><b><span style="color: blue;">“WE ARE THE HUNTERS.”</span></b></i></span> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Upon reflection, and in light of our present situation, the message on the back of the shirt now made far more sense “<i>Scrambled</i>,” than it did <i>“Unscrambled.” </i>For an amazing assortment of </span><span style="">“<b><i>Nuts</i></b>”</span><span style=""> in every variety, were now out in full force in Harpers Ferry that day, and that did not even include the normal weekend tourists. <span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><b><i><u><span style=""><span style="font-size: 130%;">Shaken, Rattled, but not Stirred</span></span></u><u><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">After being escorted, or if you will… “<i>tossed</i>,” off Virginius Island by the Park Services, because that section of the park was technically assigned as apart of the <b><i>KKK’s</i> </b>legally assessed rally area; Josh Czarda quietly told us to regroup and meet him at a place known as “<i>The Point</i>” near John Brown’s Fort. Vowing to, somehow, reorganize the game quickly and save our hunt for us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Behind us on the island, hidden in one of the tunnels we would learn later, was still the first section of Clue number #5/ This clue was quartered into four sections and hidden throughout Harpers Ferry. Because of the <i>KKK’s</i> Rally, we were now cut off from this first important section.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><span style=""> </span>Hours later, after the hunt was over, Steve, a.k.a. T_Hunter, would sneak back onto Virginius Island and gather up the missing clue scrolls for all the teams, to have as a lasting souvenir of their memorable time spent on the island <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">As our various groups, found their way off the island again and walked towards Harpers Ferry; I used part of this time to sort out clue #3, which also spoke cryptically about <i>The Point</i>, a place where the two rivers, the Potomac and Shenandoah met. This was the clue that Jacob now apart of Team <i>“The Leesburg Seekers”</i> used my decoder belt buckle I had given him, to break the numeric cipher at the bottom of the page. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Deciphered, the scroll turned out to be a water clue; and the hidden message related to the actor in <i>Red</i> and what we needed to perform for him to receive our next clue, but there was something strange in my mind about the wording of the message. The clue seemed unnecessarily to repeat itself<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">On the surface, the clue suggested that you take the scroll to where the two rivers met, dunk the clue in the river and the water clue would appear, but there seemed in my mind to be something more to it than that, but I could not put my finger on it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Arriving at “<i>The Point</i>” with some time to spare, I left Mike and <strong><span style="font-weight: normal;">Bajki</span></strong> to keep a watchful eye out, while I took a short “<i>French Leave</i>” from the hunt. I wanted to have a closer look at river banks below <i>The Point’s</i> large reinforced retaining walls. This is where the twin rivers truly came together.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">I had time, as a number of our members were still trying to find new parking places closer to town. When I left, Mike Sky and his wife were hard at work on trying to uncover the mystery of the colored cipher wheel clue. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">At the end of the walkway, I found a wooden staircase leading down to the water’s edge.<span style=""> </span>I also discovered I was not alone down there. At least two other members from different teams had noticed the wording of the clue, and had come down<span style=""> </span>to take a look at <i>The Point</i> as well. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">We searched along the stone walls and under the stairs together for anything that might suggest a clue location, or perhaps a hidden scroll, but nothing very obvious came to mind. Standing at the water’s edge, I check my watch and saw my limited time was up. Giving out a heavy sigh of frustration, and finding nothing more, I headed back. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">I would learn later, from Josh Czarda himself, that I had been right in my assumption about this area. There was something more hidden at, <i>The Point</i>. This was the resting place of the <i>Large Gold Coin</i>. A coin which none of the other teams would find. But as I walked away, at one point, according to Josh, I was exactly two feet from the gold coin’s hiding place and never saw it.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Arriving topside again, I have to award credit, where credit was due, Mike and his wife were showing their true worth as part of our makeshift team, by having cracked the multicolored cipher while I was away. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">They recognized that one of the most repeated symbols within the message was an “<b>O</b>” not an “<b>E</b>” and with that, the rest of the message decoded swiftly. My appearance was also in perfect timing for Josh Czarda’s arrival, and for us to hear what he had come up with to save our hunt. --- The news was not all that promising. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><b><u><i><span style=""><span style="font-size: 130%;">High<span style=""> </span>Steps to the Gravest of Matters</span></span></i></u><i><u><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></span></p> <span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><o:p></o:p></span></span> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Josh Czarda, in his short <i>tete-a-tete</i> with the National Park Ranger, discovered that half the town was now fairly off limits to us, because of the KKK Rally. So much so, that the hunt itself might have to be cut in half. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">The Park Service actually wanted us to call off the entire hunt; which Josh vowed to them that we would; but in private now, he told us we were going to continue on against the Park’s wishes. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">If we were to do so, we would all have promise to maintain a very low profile. We couldn’t make it too obvious that our <i>Treasure Hunters</i> group was still on the hunt. We would also all have to do our very best to blend in as tourists moving about the town, as quietly as possible during our search.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Josh reported that because of reorganization, he was already forced to make a few changes to our hunt. First, he had sent home our actor, the young man in “<i>Red,</i>” so we could stop looking for him. And secondly, he had removed at least one of the other scrolls; whose location was directly in sight of several of the Park Service Rangers on duty. As the hunt was now flawed, extra points would be awarded, if we could at least located and name these areas that had been vacated. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">For now, to start the race again; Josh decided to give us verbally what Clue # 5 would have told us. This was the four quartered Clue, which had to be assembled and then decoded, using the Jefferson Cipher Wheel. Our clue #5 would have been the midpoint marker for our game. Now this clue had become our new starting point. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Summoning up all his Poetic best, Josh told us to listen carefully, as we were, <b><i>“To Seek the Enlighten Cliffs and Unlock the Secrets of the Fires that burn no more…” </i></b>With those words, the race was once more on; the Clock was ticking. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">These words, while poetic, were not Josh Czarda’s actual words, (<i>again apologizing to the reader for being vague,</i>) I knew from the cryptic message that he had given us that the clue was meant to send us across the river to an area of the park known as, the <i>Maryland Heights</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">From my early research and studying of local maps, I knew the clue could only be referring to the cliffs above the train tracks. There were a number of trails leading to an overlook above these distant cliffs. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Along these trails, there were also perhaps a half dozen old Military Batteries and other ruins; any one of which could be the location the clue referred to. And, if memory was serving me correctly; I also knew that these trails ran about a mile and a half long in total length. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">As the teams started to break up, I assumed that the main mass of our teams would instantly head in the direction of the Maryland Heights. For my own Team, I made the decision that we should try for a totally different direction and location. One, I thought that was far closer and perhaps easier. I was to discover, painfully, how wrong I was. This would be Clue #1, the Cemetery clue.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">The Harpers Ferry Cemetery, on the map, in measured distance was much closer. But there was a small problem; it rested on the top of the cliffs above the town. To get to the Cemetery was relatively simple, all you had to do was climb the famous Harpers Ferry Stone Steps which began on High Street in the center of town, and they and a foot path would carry you all the way up to the top.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1040" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:257.25pt;height:126.75pt'"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image013.jpg" title="Stone_Steps003"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/Stone_Steps003.jpg" /><br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">In actuality there are only forty-four Stone Steps carved out of the natural rock formation of the cliff side. The stairs being carved around 1810, but they lead to a longer stepping path that runs up the entire side of the cliff face of the Harper Ferry Gap. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">The setback as Mike, Bajki and I, were to discover was that these steps, and the stepping path, ran at about a fifty-five degree angle most of the way up. And for a distance of more than two hundred yards, or twice of your average football field. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">For any reader having trouble envisioning this, or who have never been to Harpers Ferry to see and experienced the steps for themselves; think of <i>The Stone Steps</i>, as being the World’s Largest, and Longest <i>Stair-Master®.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Mountaineering our way up these stairs, our team got as far as the Old St. Peter’s Church, before we lost Mike’s wife. Bajki wheezing for breath, collapsed in a heap on a nearby retaining wall and valiantly, if not weakly, waved us on, as if to say, <i>“Go…(wheeze)…Go On and Save Yourselves…(wheeze)…Just let me …(wheeze)…Lie here…(wheeze)… and Die quietly! …(wheeze -- gasp)…”</i> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Leaving Bajki to rest and recover by the Church, Mike and I continued on by ourselves at a quick forced march, trying to stay well ahead of the other teams. By the time we reached Jefferson’s Rock, I nearly lost Mike as well. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Like myself, Mike was panting and perhaps a just little punchy from the climb. Because before I knew it, Mike was starting to blindly follow another line of tourists, who were heading down a side trail. Running after him and turning Mike about, I pointed out the final staircase to the cemetery above us on our right.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Mounting these last few steps, which if anything, seemed even steeper. I found my own legs finally turning to rubber beneath me. I had to hold onto the fence railing, just for support and to pull myself through the Cemetery gate. It also prevented me from tumbling back down the hillside. On a forced march, this was one huge haul up the cliff side. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">You truly need the constitution of a mountain goat, and the brain of an idiot to do this run more than once in a single day; unless you are in Olympic training. I was at this precise moment feeling very old, if not decidedly ancient; but the journey did have one reward for us; Mike and I were the very first Team to arrive at the cemetery. The place was ours alone, and the clues were everywhere. I was once again in my true element.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Our clue told us we were to seek out <i>The Raven’s Stone,</i> not knowing what that was, our only guides were to be the gravesites within the cemetery. Locate and align certain names, and they acted as an arrow pointing to a location somewhere within the cemetery. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">While Mike and I search the headstones for the names we needed, The National Guard Helicopter buzzed us several times, checking us out. With my own satchel in hand, I assumed they wanted to make sure we were not snipers carrying concealed weapons. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">I have to confess, as I explored the cemetery, I became impressed with some of the ancient obelisks and memorials discovered along our path. One of my favorites that day being a large headstone of the purest and brightest Rose Pink Quartz I could ever recall seeing. Its rough hewn crystals shimmered brightly in the sunlight. It was so simple; yet it was so eloquent in its natural beauty. It was a gravesite, not to be forgotten.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Following our arrow of clues, to one of the far sides of the graveyard, Mike and I found perched in the bushes a large black Raven sitting on a branch. We looked at the Raven, and the Raven stared back at us, never flinching, or showing the slightest trace of fear. The bird was, of course, stuffed and had been placed there by Josh Czarda. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1030" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:185.25pt;height:125.25pt'"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image015.jpg" title="raven_fws"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/raven_Small.jpg" /><br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Its head was cocked curiously, Mike and I followed its line of vision and found that the Raven seemed to be staring at one of the near by gravestones. Searching along the base of this stone, we discovered hidden beneath the leaves and grass, a small nest of gray stones, about the size of your fist. These were <i>The Raven’s Stones</i> spoken of in our clue. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Picking one up and examining it, I found that the stone was not a stone at all, but rather a lump of gray clay shaped like a stone and imprinted with a large <b><i>“R”,</i></b> for Ravenchase, I assumed. The next step, was pure whim, but it took me in the right direction. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Cracking open the clay slowly; inside we discovered a small plastic vial filled with a red fluid. And this was where Mike and Bajki’s true worth as a part of the team came shining through. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">I had mentioned earlier, that while I was away on <i>French Leave</i>, checking out The Point; I had left Mike and his wife behind, to play with the <i>Colored Cipher Disk</i> clue. And on my return, they had cracked it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">What I had not mentioned before, was what that clue told us. It was a cryptic meaningless message, which now suddenly made perfect sense here in the cemetery. Our Clue told us to, <b><i>“Pour Stone’s Blood on…”<span style=""> </span></i></b>(<i>again apologies</i>) a certain side of one of our many clue scrolls. Contained within this vial, was the “<i>Stone’s Blood.</i>”<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">Pouring the fluid slowing over the spot indicated, the page darkened for a moment before a chemical reaction occurred, and the following message slowly appeared:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><i><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 130%;"><b><i><span style="color: red;">CALL<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></p> <div align="center"> </div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 130%;"><b><i><span style="color: red;">1-804<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></p> <div align="center"> </div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 130%;"><b><i><span style="color: red;">915<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></p> <div align="center"> </div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-size: 130%;"><b><i><span style="color: red;">XXXX</span></i></b></span><b><span style="font-size: 14px;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span>Mike and I nearly hugged each other, but in this moment of utter triumph for intuitive reasoning and clue solving, there were just one, or two minor problems. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">First, for myself, sadly at the time, I was one of the last holdouts against modern technology; I did not personally own a cell phone. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Secondly, the last four digits of the phone number on the page, were blurred and unreadable. The only thing we could logically do was to call Josh Czarda at the number he had given us with our belt packs, and ask him what the last four digits were. Fortunately for the home team, Mike Sky, did at least own a cell phone, but he was also extremely reluctant to use it. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Mike, at that time, was not partnered with the Verizon® “<i>Can you hear me now???</i>” network. He was terribly worried about getting any signal in the cemetery, and suggested that we wait until we got back down inside the town for better reception and call from there. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span>Now, being a total neophyte to cell phone technology at the time; this idea of Mike’s sounded fairly good, until we walked down as far as Jefferson’s Rock. This is when looking down the Stone Steps again, every gray cell in my body screamed out and demanded that we stop. We were being monumentally stupid about the way we were going about this.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Logically, whatever secret the mysterious phone number had to impart to us; it had to relate to the Cemetery. If we walked down the Stone Steps and called from the center of town, we might have to walk all the way back up the steps… <i>AGAIN!</i> --- The mere thought of making this journey twice in one day was too great to consider. At my insistence, Mike tried his phone from Jefferson’s Rock. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">While Mike dialed, I finally took a moment and looked out to see what Thomas Jefferson saw in 1783; when he visited this spot and later <span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">wrote in his Diary <i>“This scene is worth a voyage across the Atlantic.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><i> </i></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">The view down the gap, especially during this time of autumn’s ever changing leaves, was wonderful and especially beautiful. Not much had changed in two hundred years when Thomas Jefferson himself stood by this rock. This view admittedly, was well worth all the pain and suffering of coming up to see it.</span></p><p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/HarpersFerryWVOctoberSmall.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/HarpersFerryWVOctoberSmall.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Josh’s phone rang several times before he picked up and Josh chuckled when he heard of our dilemma. He first congratulated us for being the first to find the Raven’s Stones and figuring out what to do with them. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">But, instead of giving us the missing numbers, he just told us the phone number was to an answering machine. The message the machine would have given us had we called was... <i>“Now that you have found the Raven; seek and find the <u>(…CENSORED…)</u> for it guards and looks over your next clue.”</i><span style=""> </span>Mike and I looked at each other, sighed, then mounted once more the final steps to the Cemetery. We did have to go back to the Raven’s nest. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Six minutes later we returned, but this time in triumph. In our hands was one of the missing sections of Clue Number #5. Now made useless by the words that Josh had given us at <i>The Point</i>, but Mike and I looked upon it, as if it was gold. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">There is an indescribable feeling you get inside, when who know you have successfully cracked a multilayered Ravenchase Cipher. I can only describe it to you, as a feeling of being “<i>Worthy of the Challenge.</i>” --- And, as in all Quests, “<i>only the worthy will succeed.”</i> --- And that feeling, is a wonderful self-assuring experience for anyone to undergo. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">With our hearts lighten now, the journey down the stone steps was much easier. Success and gravity are wonderful helpers to speed you on your way. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">We picked up Mike’s wife Bajki, now rested and ready, by St. Peter’s Church. Pausing only for a few moments to listen to the sounds of the Ku Klux Klan rally below. Their rally being broadcasted loudly over speakers<span style=""> </span>in the park below. They were loud, very narrow minded and spewing their twisted views out to a World, that no longer has a place for them. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">It still amazes me that this group and subculture still exists in this day and age. Personally, I have no room in my own heart for hatred and bigotry, except perhaps to hate bigots.--- Which I believe is allowed. --- But, I do have room in my heart always for a bit of wit, humor and the secret wish for something discussed the night before to have actually happen.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">I mention earlier that the KOA Campsite that weekend was solidly booked at a strange time of the year, the reason being of course because of all the various groups that showed up in Harpers Ferry that day. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Friday night, as Whitney, Brittany, Laura, T_Hunter and the all the rest with myself included, were all sitting around the camp’s fire pit, roasting hotdogs and getting royally snookered; we hatched a small but delightful plan of our own. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">It was just the drinks talking of course, and we never did anything; but we all played with the idea of running around the camp that night and seeing if any of the <i>KKK</i> staying at the KOA, had left their <i>Whites </i>out to dry in the clothing line. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">We laughed and toyed with the delightful idea of doing their laundry for them, and dyeing all their sheets a <i>Lovely Bright Pink,</i> before returning them to the clothes line. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">As I stood up on the hill with Mike and his wife listening, I couldn’t help but crack a wicked smile, at the thought of what these speeches might have been like that day if all the KKK, had been forced to wear <i>Pink</i> that day.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span>As our team walked down and reached the town again, we decided it was time to go for the major clue that Josh had given us at <i>The Point</i> and head for the <i>Maryland Heights</i>. To get there we had to follow a part of the Appalachian Trail. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">I know it sounds strange, but a part of the Appalachian Trail does in fact run directly through the center of Harpers Ferry and crosses the river by the railroad tracks. In the mid-eighties, to help hikers of the trail, a protected footbridge was installed next to the train tracks, spanning the Potomac River and connecting it the Maryland Heights. Our clue, as stated before, told us that we were <b><i>“To Seek the Enlighten Cliffs and Unlock the Secrets of the Fires that burn no more…”</i></b></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Crossing the bridge by the railroad tracks could only be done at a snail’s pace, due to the extent of crowds visiting the town that day. At the end of the walkway there was a spiral staircase down and again our team had to be patient and wait, as several people with bicycles blocked the stairs going down. But, at last our team made it to the other side, and we stood at the entrance of the Maryland Heights trail.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">If there is any secret to understanding Ravenchase Adventures Clues, it is to try not to over-think the problem and overanalyze. Which is all too often, more easier said, than done. As Mike, Bajki and I followed the trail path westward along the base of the cliffs, I suddenly realized what part of the clue was telling us. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">“<i>Unlock the Secrets</i>” was a play on words. Running along side of the Maryland Heights trail, was a part of the old <span class="spnmessagetext"><span style="">Chesapeake & Ohio Canal</span></span> that once carried river barges hundreds of miles, before they were replaced by modern train cars. We were walking along one of the original tow paths. I might have completely overlooked this clue, until I notice a marker, showing that we were passing by Lock 43. That’s when I saw the play on words; “<i>Unlock</i>”--- “<i>Canal Lock</i>.”<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Searching along the length of Lock, we spotted something on the other side, a small open ruin of something that had once been a building. The possibilities were too good to ignore.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Mike and his wife wanted to follow the natural path around and see it brought us closer, or at least to a natural crossing, or foot bridge. I, on the other hand, was feeling far more adventurous, and I simply leapt into the lock itself; on the theory that the shortest distance between any two points still remains a straight line. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1032" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:218.25pt;height:146.25pt'"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image018.jpg" title="Lock 33 Pic"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/LockPic.jpg" /><br /><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Scrambling up the other side, as gracefully as I could; admitting now that I am not the slender reed of my youth, and that my swan like grace, is now more to liken to that of a lame duck, I reached the roadway beyond. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Looking both ways, I crossed the road and push my way through the bushes and weeds to enter the old ruin. Once inside the second part of the riddle made sense to me, “<b><i>the Secrets of the Fires that burn no more”</i></b> This part of the message too was a <i>double entendre</i> as well, but within three minutes of searching, I found hidden beneath weeds and rocks, a small clue scroll. Clue Number #6 had now become ours. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Returning to Mike and Bajki, we slipped the blue ribbon off of the scroll I had found, and together we read the clue aloud. Poetic in nature, the clue was not so much a puzzle but rather a poetic description of Harpers Ferry and places found within it. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">This was another, the arrow points the way clue, but this time, according to the clue, we were in search of twisted iron and a poem, rather than a gravestone. We needed to return to the center of Harpers Ferry as quickly as possible.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> The journey back was almost just as long, but I did at least have an idea of where to begin. Our poem spoke of clocks and I recalled as we came down off of the <i>Stone Steps</i> we had past a clock store at the bottom of one of the streets. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Starting here, we began to follow the stepping stones of the poem. Many were simple, others more cryptic, but finally I spotted something that caught my eye and I called Mike and Bajki to my side to check it out. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">The clue spoke of finding twisted Iron and a Poem. What I was looking at was the a ornate iron railing of a staircase leading down to a bookstore. I argued what better place to look for a poem, but in a bookstore. Mike and his wife were not totally convinced, but they allowed me the time to explore this idea. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span>Entering the store, I found it was one of my favorite kinds of bookstores with small tight areas, crowded to the gills with books of every age and description. I have a bookstore like this in my own neighborhood, and I love exploring among the stacks, for old forgotten literary treasures.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Stopping at the counter, I ask the Bookstore owner where his poetry section might be located in the store and he gladly pointed out the far corner to us. Here I was to discovered that I was partly wrong, but also mostly right about our clue and the store. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">It was not the ornate iron railing outside of the store, the clue spoke of, but a forged iron chain hanging from the ceiling above the Poetry section. This was our twisted iron and hidden among the books, was a large ancient book of poems mentioned in our clue.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Opening up the ancient tomb of poetry, Mike’s wife laughed, as we all discovered that the book was hollow and inside was our next clue scroll. We gave the honor of opening it to Bajki to read aloud. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Clue #7 spoke of a group of men, naming them all, but saying singularly none would speak, but all together would point our way. Once there, we must seek out a President for he alone holds the secret of our journey’s end. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Three confused faces looked up from the page and looked blankly at each other. We had no idea what the clue meant, or who the men mentioned were. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Thankfully we had read the clue aloud, because it caught the ears of the owner behind the counter. Looking up from the book he was reading, the store’s owner smiled at us like an all knowing college professor puffing on his pipe and quietly said, he could tell us who the men were…. <i>“If we were vaguely interested?"</i></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> He began by relating a lesser known piece of history about John Brown. One that not many people were familiar with. Beside the twenty-one men that rode with Brown that night in 1859; John Brown had been supported and secretly funded by a small group of men. Just up the street were two places named in honor of these men. One of them just might be what we were looking for. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Thanking the gentleman quickly, we vanished from the scene and were off on the hunt again. Halfway up the street, we saw the first business the bookstore owner mentioned to us, but it didn’t seem to lend itself very well to what the rest of the clue was telling us. So we went on to the second location and entered a souvenir shop. Once inside, all we knew for certain was that we were in search of a President.<span style=""> </span>Our conundrum was, this was a gift shop, and it was covered and filled with Presidents everywhere. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> There were postcards of Presidents, T-shirts of Presidents, photographs of Presidents, statues of Presidents, both large and small, and even a photograph of the President <span class="spnmessagetext">of the Wurlitzer Piano Company, which sat atop of a old antique coin operated piano in one of the corners. </span>This was an active and very real retail store, and we did not want to break anything that we could not afford to pay for. As I moved about, I began to feel like a Bull in the proverbial China Shop. Breakage, was definitely not covered in our contract with Ravenchase Adventures. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Mike, Bajki and I search among the shelves carefully, and I even pulled out the black light again, in hopes something would illuminate and point the way. But nothing showed up. The answer finally came to me about six minutes later, when I glanced down and saw something on the wooden floor itself.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Bending down, I saw particles and bits of plaster on the floorboards. Rubbing them between my fingers, they crumbled easily and at the same moment it sparked a memory. A memory of Sherlock Homes. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Josh Czarda was being both cleaver and sneaky; borrowing from one of the most celebrated of all the Sherlock Homes stories, “<i>The Six Napoleons</i>.” Our clue had to be hidden inside of the one of the plaster statues of the Presidents; but which one? There were at least several dozen to chose from. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Lifting each one carefully, I inspected each statue methodically. Even as Mike stood by my elbow, and asked me to please be careful. Touching the bottom of one, I found a center point where the plaster was still wet <span class="spnmessagetext">and soft. Fingering it, the plaster broke away and a clay plug followed, dropping the rolled parchment out </span>into the palm of my waiting hand. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Mike was still begging me not to break anything, when I lifted up my hand and presented him the small parchment scroll. Suddenly Mike didn’t seem quite so interested in how careful I was being. He just began to quietly smile at me, and so did his wife. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">While I was meeting high approval at this moment from my teammates, I learned later that another team was not so appreciative of the inspired brilliance among its fellow teammates. Whitney and T_Hunter had joined forces that day and were running this race as a team with their individual daughters, Victoria and Taylor. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">When their team arrived at the store they too were stumped by all the Presidents on display, until T_Hunter a.k.a. Steve, looked at the statues and recalled seeing ones similar to these mentioned on Ravenchase’s own website. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Grabbing one of the Thomas Jefferson Statues from the shelf, Steve raced out of the store with it, and told Whitney he was certain the next clue was hidden inside of the statue. Whitney was thrilled and instantly dreamed of keeping the statue as a small memento of their adventures here in Harpers Ferry. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">These dreams of hers however were short lived, when Steve suddenly hurled the statue to the pavement and smashed it into a million pieces, crushing it all under foot. Whitney told me her jaw hit the pavement at almost the instant that the statue did. Their team had found their clue, but she was never so angry at Steve, then in this single moment, for destroying her trophy. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1033" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:111pt;height:153.75pt'"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image020.jpg" title="Jeff frnt 100 5 x7"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/Jefffrnt1005x7.jpg" /><br /><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">The scroll inside the statue gave all our teams our final destination; the finish line. It simply said: <b><i>“Well done! End at the Quartermaster’s Tavern!”<span style=""> </span></i></b></span></p> <!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><o:p></o:p></span> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[endif]--></p> <!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><o:p></o:p></span> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><u><i><b>WELL DONE! AND UNDONE!!!</b></i></u></span><span style="font-size: 14px;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Up to now, <i>Team Rass-Sky </i>had been doing rather well in our hunt. Clues were solved, intuitive leaps of logic were paying off; but there comes a moment in every hunt when all this vanishes and rampant stupidity and abject blundering become the final order of the day. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Back in the store, I had just unrolling the clue scroll in my hand and we knew where to go; <i>The Quartermaster’s Tavern</i>. But, in the back of my mind I was still concerned about T_Hunter’s Team’s ten minute lead ahead of everyone else. His daughter, Victoria, was holding those ten minutes in the form of the Gold Coin she had found. In all our searches thus far, my own team had failed to find even a hint of one of these hidden golden coins.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span>There was, in my mind, only one way to even out the odds, and that was to go for the extra bonus points that Josh Czarda offered us at <i>The Point</i>. We had to search out the answer to at least one more clue, if we were to balance the scales. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> This was my first major blunder. Perhaps this being my first Ravenchase hunt, or perhaps I was still riding high on the crest of my own self-approval, but for whatever the reason, as Team Captain I was making a fatal error. And this was not be the only one.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> My first blunder was not immediately going to the Tavern and checking in with Josh. I believe at the time, my fear was that he would hold us there, until the other teams checked-in. My second blunder came even before we even left the souvenir store. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> I wasn’t sure what to do with the small statue in my hand. I didn’t want to be accused of trying to steal it, and I was not sure if Josh expected it back for reuse on another hunt. Taking the statue to the front counter I spoke to the manager. As I was openly offering the store manager the statue, the front door open behind me and in walked <i>“Team Leesburg Seekers”</i><span style=""> </span>with Jacob, Diana and Jfray. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">I was caught red-handed, with the statue in my hand, giving Jacob’s team now a perfectly good idea of where to look for their next clue. It was time for my team to leave, and quickly.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> Now, had we left for the Tavern and checked in immediately <i>Team Rass-Sky</i> just might have come in fourth in the race. But, the decision to stay out and search for clues was entirely my own blundering fault. Not Mike Sky, nor his lovely wife, Bajki, they simply placed their trust in me, and I let them down. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span> I knew that Josh had removed the actor in “<i>Red”</i> from our course, Virginius Island was still closed to us, so there was really only one clue left for our team uncover, and that was our History scroll, or Clue #2. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Harpers Ferry possesses several fine museums, and our sheet in turn lead us to one of these. The poem, again cryptic, was a verbal map of the museum and its exhibits, what we were instructed to find was a name, a flag and what ever lay between them, would point our way to our solution. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Again giving credit, where credit was due, it was Mike’s wife that solved this first half of the clue for us. While Mike and I were searching high and low among the exhibits, Bajki found the name we needed and pointed out the correct flag. What we found exactly between these two objects befuddled us all, until we realized it was not what lay between them; but what lay beyond them was what was important.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span>What we wanted was not even in the museum. It was hidden somewhere a street, or two away. What lay between our two objects was a museum window. It was something this window overlooked that we needed to find. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Racing out of the Museum and down around the corner, I was at least given hope for doing well in the race, as we ran into T_Hunter’s and Whitney’s Team. They and their children were scouring the outside of a building in search of anything that might looked like a clue to them. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">If they were still out there, I thought to myself, then there were still points to be had. --- Unfortunately for my Team, I was to learn later that T_Hunter and Whitney had already check-in with Josh at the Tavern, and were now out looking for extra bonus points.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Around the next corner, I was struck by one building that we came upon. It was another smaller museum. Harpers Ferry, for being such a small town, was apparently an important axis point for American history. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">As well as being famous for John Brown’s raid, and being apart of the Appalachian Trail, it was also one of the starting points for the Lewis & Clark Expedition. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">In 1803 Meriwether Lewis visited Harpers Ferry, West Virginia and its arsenal to obtain on Presidential orders, the guns and hardware needed to meet the unique requirements of the Lewis & Clark Expedition. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Lewis remained long enough in Harpers Ferry to designed and have built a collapsible iron boat frame to use on their expedition. I wondered briefly if Jacob from TV’s <i>Team Ex-CIA</i> had seen this exhibit, and I speculated on what his thoughts might have been on the subject. His own history so strangely linked to Lewis & Clark. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">In the television series “<i>Treasure Hunters</i>” in an episode entitled, “<i>Bend the Light</i>” Jacob and his fellow teammates had to follow the path of Lewis & Clark, rowing twenty miles down the Missouri River, and then decipher a clue left for them in the secret code used by Lewis & Clark to communicate with President Jefferson. I wondered if Jacob saw this place, as shades of his own past catching up with him to haunt him.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Twenty minutes of chasing our tails, and over-thinking the clue; we finally figure out that the scroll was hidden beneath a flat rock at the base of one of the town’s historical markers. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Unfortunately, it turned out to be the other location Josh Czarda had mentioned at <i>The Point,</i> as being in direct line of sight of some of the Park Service Rangers. The nest was empty. We had found the location, but had nothing to show for it, or even to prove that we were ever there. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">At the bottom half of the hour, Mike’s cell phone rang. Just by the tone of its ring, I knew bad news was about to be delivered. I found myself understanding how <i>Team Miss USA</i> felt in Paris, when <span class="spnmessagetext">Lair Macintosh called them to tell them they had been eliminated. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext">The news for our team, was much the same. Josh was calling us to find out where we were, as every other team had checked-in and were all now waiting for us at the Tavern. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span class="spnmessagetext">As we trudged up the hill towards the Tavern, just knowing that our team was dead last, was a bitter pill to swallow. I finally understood now what Melissa of <i>Team Miss USA</i> meant, when she bemoaned,</span> <i>“This is not the outfit I wanted to be eliminated in!!!”</i></span> </p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">She was not complaining about the clothes she was wearing, she was upset that they were not going down in the hunt <u>“<i>Perfect</i>.”</u> --- It is one thing to be beaten by another better team in speed, or mental agility, but to lose because of a stupid mistake, was painful. They knew they were better than this, and did not want to be seen in this light. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">As our Team stepped out onto the garden terrace of the <i>Quartermaster Tavern</i>, we<i> </i>were met with cheers and applauds, just for making it this far. This was not jeering, or a slight, it was simple appreciation for fellow travelers in this journey we call Ravenchase. And it has always been a unwavering and unyielding Ravenchase Tradition to salute the winners and the losers equally, and alike. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Another Tradition is, as the losers, we entitled to a special award; “<i>Two Free Drinks</i>” on the Ravenchase’s Tab to drown our sorrows and all our mistakes in. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Though I was greeted with love and warmth; it did little to abate my own feelings of utter failure. I was sullen. I was morose. In short, I possessed all the grace and charm of an old disgruntled Bear, with a sore paw and a case of Colic. Not much was going to help with my mood. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Later back at the camp, T_Hunter and Whitney joked endlessly about how bad I looked at that moment. They said they could see the dark clouds forming over my head from all the way across the restaurant, and the weather forecast was for Gale Storms and Rougher Seas ahead. --- God pity the poor sailor out on a night like this. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">My mood and my ill temperament aside, if I have to say anything for the people of Ravenchase Adventures, they usually come through with a terrific choice in restaurants to end their hunts in. --- The food was good and, of course, the “<i>Two</i>” Free drinks, did much to soften and comfort my ill mood and helped pull the metaphorical thorn out of my paw. So much so, I was practically fit company to be around other human beings, by the time the final tally and the awards were announced. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">The honor of first place was awarded to T_Hunter, Whitney Victoria and Taylor. Their Team coming in with an unbelievable thirty minute lead over the second place winners, <i>Team Bert & Ernie</i>, even though they walked through the Tavern door practically at the same moment. T_Hunter’s Team had won out over, Flidias and Laura’s team by sheer strength of bonus points. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Victoria, T_Hunter’s sharp eyed daughter had not just found one coin, but two gold coins before the hunt was over. Also, T_Hunter, himself had figured out clue #3 and located the young man in “<i>Red</i>,” before Josh had sent the young man home. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">The young man in “<i>Red</i>” held the third section of Clue #5 and as T_Hunter had the scroll to prove it. And his was the only team to find it, and he was award another ten minute bonus, for a total of thirty minutes, with the gold coins included.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">The third position fell fifteen minutes later went to <i>J15Bell</i> & <i>Sluggy’s Team, </i><span style="">closely followed later in fourth place by <i>Team Leesburg Seekers</i> </span>with Jacob, Diane and Jim (Jfray).</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span>But regretfully I have no idea who came in, fifth and six in the race. Whether it was <i>The Brit’s</i> lead by MayoGirl, or DollyLama’s daughter Brittany and her team, I can not say; but I can say with reasonable certainty, I know which team came in Dead Last.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">For the prizes, Ravenchase maintains another unbreakable tradition, they always give out absolutely <i>Fabulously “Tacky” Prizes</i>. First Prize was the <i>Golden Flying Pig</i> Award, married along side with a small treasure chest filled with candy and chocolate, which Taylor and Victoria both share their new found wealth of goodies with everyone at the restaurant. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Team <i>Bert & Ernie’s</i> Prize for Second place was awarded, <i>The Silver Art Deco Lady</i>, a statue of a Grecian lady standing next to a bowled pedestal. Rather pretty I thought, the way the gown flowed off her naked shoulder. Brittany tells me Laura still uses it as a candy dish in her home, and as a reminder of their team’s glorious victory that day.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">The Third Prize awarded to <i>J15Bell and Sluggy</i>, was <i>The Bronze Urn</i> award. Which from the back of the restaurant, looked to me like an old Funereally Urn.<span style=""> </span>I found myself musing and hoping for the girls sake, that the urn was not still occupied.<span style=""> </span>If it was, it would certainly make it a unique, if not an embarrassing award. But, the girls took ownership of the award with great pride, holding it aloft. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">It is an interesting thing to note about the Ravenchase choice of prizes; they all being so <i>Fabulously “Tacky,”</i> few people are sad for long for losing them to another team.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Some I have encountered in my travels, have confessed to being rather relieved in <i>“not”</i> winning, just so they would not have to drag home some of the more unusual prizes and explain them to their friends and family. The greater joy is found in just running the race and being with like-minded friends.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">But, as for the <i>Bragging Rights of Winning</i>; these are always something highly sought after in any race. It is something wonderful to hold in your heart. Solving, and winning a Ravenchase Hunt is, I assure you, an accomplishment to take pride in.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Our Party at the <i>Quartermasters Tavern</i> broke up about an hour later; or rather, it simply relocated itself back to the KOA Kamp. Our party did not simply end at the finish line, but continued on well pass the midnight hour. We had other things planned as well. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">From our <i>Treasure Hunters</i> groups from across the country, came a flood of gift baskets which Whitney used as a special Silent Auction. One of the baskets held a special treasure in it; a real Cryptex made by the hands of Justin Nevins, who made the Cryptex Artifact boxes for the television series <i>Treasure Hunters</i>. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1034" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:174.75pt;height:116.25pt'"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image022.jpg" title="6 White Marble Box 1 - Resize"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Rassilon%20Review/WhiteMarbleBox1-Resize.jpg" /><br /><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">The winning bid for the Cryptex was won by Jfray. As part of the winning bid, only he and Whitney, who obtained the Cryptex for the auction, would know the five lettered word that will open it. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">But if anyone would care to make a guess; I should mention that there are five locking rings, with twenty six letters on each, giving you nearly 12 million possible combinations (11,881,376) to open it. Good luck in that. --- Jim (Jfray) told me that he would personally <i>enjoy </i>watching anyone try to solve the puzzle and open it.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Our Guest, Ex-CIA Jacob, also put in a bid on one of the basket; choosing for himself a basket containing a very special bottle of a super-premium bourbon made only in the heart of Kentucky. Produced only in small allotments. it’s known as, <i>Woodford’s Reserve. </i></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">He lost the Basket to a joint bid from Team <i>Bert & Ernie</i> and Whitney’s brother Matt. But, being of a generous nature, they shared the basket’s contents with Jacob and by midnight Jacob was feeling “Very” well and “Very” content with the world.<i> <o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">One of the highlights of the entire evenings festival, which was by nearly universal agreement, was the introduction of J15Bell’s Chili. There were legends were born that night about how good this chili was. And the recipe is a J15Bell’s personal guarded secret. Whitney’s brother Matt at the end of the night wanted to bring home buckets of this Chili when the party ended; it was that good.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Matt was also one of our heroes of the night, as he kept the huge fire pit stoked and burning against the cold frigid weather. But, Matt also did managed get a little over zealous with his resourcefulness in finding firewood. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">At least a cord of wood disappeared into the fire pit that night, and when that was gone, Matt began sneaking around the KOA camp and several discarded wooden pallets also wound up in our fire pit. By morning all evidence of his misdeeds had vanished into smoke and ashes. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">For myself, still feeling out of sorts from my loss, I took up an special invitation from <i>Team Bert & Ernie, </i>Brittany and Laura. They had invited me to go along with them on a special outing back to Harpers Ferry. It was to join them in taking the eight o’clock “<i>Ghost Tour</i>,” of Harpers Ferry. --- Being a great lover of both ghost tales and history, I found the invitation too great to resist. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Stopping off for a burger at the Harper’s Café, we joined an eager group of about forty people on the tour. The tour was hosted by <span style="">Shirley Dougherty, the daughter of the original woman that started these tours many years before. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">In spite of the cold that night, the tour was one of the highlights of my whole trip to Harpers Ferry. A secret passion of mine, has always been finding the forgotten and unusual pages of history. And aside for the ghostly tales of Screaming Jenny, and the Phantom Army, I was far more intrigued with the unwritten pages of history that were never taught to me when I was in school. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="">I was very impressed with the reason why St. Peter’s Church was the one church in all of Harpers Ferry to survive the Civil War. It was due to the brilliance of one man, Father Costello, who raised a British Flag over his beloved church. Both sides of the conflict, fearing an International Incident, if they were to fire upon a British Flag, decided to spared the church from bombardment, allowing it to stand to this day. </span><span style=""> </span></span> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">During Prohibition, one of the ruins over in the Maryland Heights was a notorious Speakeasy. And in the Maryland Cliffs above, so may illegal stills were being operated that the Chicago Mobs made special arrangements for a Train Tankard Car to stop beneath the cliffs, and be filled from a small pipe line from the flats above. I will leave it to your own imaginations to guess how much <i>Moonshine</i> it would take to fill a Tankard Car, and still have some left over for local consumption.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Perhaps the most interesting piece of history was why John Brown’s Raid really failed that night in 1859. His men had made a successful raid on the Armory and seized the weapons, but there was an interesting fact I learned, which was never recorded in any of the history books I read as a student. There was no ammunition stored with the guns. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">The entire town was famous for the manufacture of weapons, but it possessed very little stores of powder and shot. When the townspeople came to defended the armory; many were forced to shoot and kill the raiders with six inch spikes and nails loaded into their weapons. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">For anyone planning a visit to Harpers Ferry, I highly recommend making the effort to take <i>The</i> <i>Ghost Tour</i> during your visit. It is well worth the effort. The history was fascinating, and I found myself wishing that I had taken the tour before our Ravenchase Hunt, as much of its history would have been invaluable to me during the hunt. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">My evening ended back at the camp, and once more by the fire pit, roasting hotdogs and swapping war stories of the day’s events with my friends, enjoying a well deserved drink. I slept cold again that night, but very peacefully, in my little Kabin #13.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">The following morning, Sunday the 15<sup>th</sup>, at 11:45 Am, I was on the train heading northward back to Philadelphia. I had lost this race, but I also discovered within myself that I was now also hopelessly hooked and addicted on this wonderful clue solving adventure, called Ravenchase. </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">There would be other Ravenchase Adventures in my future, this much I knew, as I looked out the window at Harpers Ferry and suddenly recalled a line from NBC’s <i>Treasure Hunters</i> series. One spoken by Tonny Brown of <i>Team Brown </i>before their own team’s elimination.<i> </i><span style=""> </span>I think Tonny best summed up all my present feelings when he said, in a philosophical moment:</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-align: left;" align="left"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><b><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i><b><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 130%;">The Hunt, is the Hunt<o:p></o:p></span></b></i></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i><b><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 130%;">The Game, is the Game<o:p></o:p></span></b></i></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><i><b><span style="font-size: 130%;">And we go on as we always have…</span></b></i><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">I had lost this race, but I was not defeated. There would be other games and I would not stop, until I brought home the Gold... </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Until the next Hunt, and we all meet again… </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">I Remain Very Sincerely and Philosophically Yours, </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Geoffrey G. Wynkoop</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> </span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><b><i>A.K.A.<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" align="center"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="_x0000_i1035" type="#_x0000_t75" style="'width:206.25pt;height:103.5pt'"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:/WINDOWS/TEMP/msoclip1/01/clip_image024.jpg" title="Rassilon3LogoSMALL"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/RassilonLogoPR.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 334px; height: 189px;" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/RassilonLogoPR.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"><b>*** Post Script:<span style=""> </span></b></span>In the spirit of Love and Fun, I apologize to my friend Whitney, who I endlessly enjoy poking fun at, and who is by the way, a very safe driver and a God sent to all our teams for putting this Hunt together for us all. --- We love you Whitney.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">And I will also mention one last strange alliance from this hunt. In July 2008, Laura from <i>Team Bert & Ernie</i>, married Matt, Whitney’s Pyrotechnic brother. I only hope their Love for each other burns as brightly as the fires kindled that night.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;">Congratulations to you both. – G.G.W.</span></p><p class="MsoBodyText2"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/Rassilon365/HarpersFerryRavenchase?feat=directlink"><span style="font-weight: bold;">For Photos of Hapers Ferry and the Hunt just click on this Link</span></a><br /></p><p class="MsoBodyText2"><br /></p><p class="MsoBodyText2"><br /></p><p class="MsoBodyText2"><br /></p><p class="MsoBodyText2"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><br /><span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%;"><span style=""> </span><span class="spnmessagetext"><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>Rassilonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01721185481568744682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049559609067254814.post-29368469050548437182008-12-26T20:35:00.004-05:002008-12-30T23:07:37.738-05:00The Great Old City Hunt<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;color:midnightblue;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255);font-size:180%;" ><b><center><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><i>"The Great Old City Chase"</i> </span></center></b></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;color:midnightblue;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><b>A</b></center></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;color:midnightblue;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><b>Ravenchase Review</b></center></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;color:midnightblue;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">By</span></center></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;color:midnightblue;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Geoffrey G. Wynkoop</span></center></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;color:midnightblue;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">The </span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;color:red;" ><i>"Infamous"</i></span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"> Rassilon</span></center></span></span></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;color:midnightblue;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><br /><center><img style="WIDTH: 161px; HEIGHT: 158px" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/RavenchaseLogo2.gif" border="0" /></center><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:blue;"><center><span style="font-size:130%;"><i>"Eternal Glory!!!</i></span><br />That is what awaits the student,<br />who wins the Triwizard Tournament.<br />But to do this, that student must survive three tasks.<br />Three Extremely Dangerous Tasks!"<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />--- Albus Dumbledore<br />Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire</span></center></span><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Now, I shall freely confess that not a single one of the Ravenchase events I have ever attended was either life threatening, nor even remotely equal in danger to <i>The Triwizard's Challenge</i>; which is to be found only in the gifted imaginings of J. K. Rowling's writings. --- But on the other hand, it might well be pointed out, that Harry Potter, our hero wizard, only had to face <i>"three"</i> challenges, compared to the <i>"six"</i> challenges that confronted us in Philadelphia, during our royal battle of Wits, Skill and Speed.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">In the <i>"Great Old City Chase,"</i> we found ourselves not in a mystic confrontation with Fire-breathing Dragons, or Underwater Merpeople; but we did have a Maniacal Maze of ever-twisting clues guiding us in a voyage of discovery of ourselves. --- A discovery to see which of us, or our teams, had the heart, will and wisdom to claim the honor, the glory of the rewards awaiting us at the end of that day's puzzles created by Ravenchase adventures. This was the destiny that waited.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Speaking for myself, I do not consider myself a <i>"Fatalist"</i> by nature. I believe, ultimately, our <i>"Destiny"</i> is molded within our own hands by the choices and opportunities we create ourselves. --- And yet, I think all of us have at one point in our lives, equally questioned the possibility that Life, and the direction it has taken us, is not as <i>"Arbitrary"</i> as we may have been lead to believe. That <i>Winds of Fate</i> are, in fact, driving us gently along like the golden leaves of autumn, to a place we have yet to imagine. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">For example, consider that sudden whim that mysteriously possesses you one day to play the <i>Scratch-off</i> Lottery for the first time in years; instantly netting you $100.00 dollars. The exact amount you needed to pay off a pressing, or unexpected debt.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Or, that morning you find someone has parked in your <i>"personal" </i>parking spot at work, thus forcing you to park blocks away in an outer company lot. --- This of course being a black day for you, until walking back from the lot, you bump into a former Lover you had not seen since your college days. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Unchanged in your eyes, or in your heart, they stand before you just as dumbfounded as you are in seeing them. --- Your words both begin to spill out, almost in equal measure to their own, until they confess they had never forgotten you; and had always secretly wished for a second encounter just to tell you all of this. --- Such are the ever changing winds, and whims of Fate. It is a toss of the dice at best. </span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly12.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">For myself, these <i>Winds of Fate</i> were to blow me about freely that Sunday afternoon. Though sadly, not romantically. Not a single ghost of my past came back to gently haunt my heart that day. But, I remain hopefully optimistic enough to allow myself the pleasure of dreaming that they one day will. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Mentally that day, I was still fresh from my recent defeat in <i>"The Great Discordia"</i> race in Baltimore, where as readers you may recall I was forced to concede the race, when time simply ran out for me. --- In this <i>Great Old City</i> event, I sought only to redeem myself by at least placing respectful in the top three. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I dreamt of <i>Golden</i> trophies, but was however pragmatic enough in my thoughts, to allow for the idea of <i>"Dark Horses"</i> appearing in the race. Much like the Philadelphia <i>"Valentine's Day Race"</i> where I, and my three fellow adventures ran an excellent race; but got our Collective Asses handed to us by a group <i>"Newbie"</i> Bridesmaids, who had never played the game before.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">My approach to the day could be best described as, <i>"Renewed Determination."</i> Rather than just playing for the fun of it; I chose to set my mind and my thoughts only on winning. As the day drew nearer, everything I did I approached with a new viewpoint, and under a different spectrum. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I began by reexamining my famous <i>"Indiana Jones Bag" </i>and everything in it. Removing those items that had proven in the past, only to be dead weight to my needs. Resorting my code book and redesigning the idea of my blank worksheets into a new separate report booklet. I could now store my ever growing Code book in my bag, while lightening the pages I needed to carry around in my hands. This new attitude, also seem to demanded a new look. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Beth Moore, of the Team <i>Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess</i>, recently reprimanded me for what she described as my past <i>"Wild and Crazy"</i> outfits. <i>(Beige coat and white pants.)</i> --- Beth Moore, as you might well imagine is a very sensitive caring woman, who I love dearly, but she was perhaps right. It was time for a change. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I immediately headed to E-bay, my favorite <i>"Cryptographer's / Adventurer's All-in-One Super Store."</i> Anything you could ever need for Ravenchase, I have found on E-Bay. Be it code books, interesting useful handheld gadgets, <i>Indiana Jones Bags</i>, clothing, it was all there, if you just know how to search for it. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Tossing aside the beige look, I went for a sportier look, choosing Cargo shorts for their extra pockets, a pure cotton Baseball shirt with long dark green sleeves to prevent sunburn and a baseball cap to keep the sun off my head. Being fair skinned, I have gotten cooked several times during past races and high summer was upon us. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The hat proved to be the hardest of my tasks, as I have one of the larger head sizes going, 7 3/4". Most hats don't fit me; they merely sit on the top of my head like a comical <i>"Dink."</i> But, E-bay came through for me again and I found a great hat from a company called of all things, <i>Big Head Caps</i>. Their company's motto proudly stating <i>"Hats for the Cranially Endowed!"</i> Besides fitting my head and my now slightly super-sized ego, my new hat also came with even simpler cleaning instructions: <i>"To Clean: Purchase another one!"</i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The baseball shirt, though colorful, still looked a little dull, so I pondered the situation and decided to add a few personal touches of my own. On the front I placed my Ravenchase Moniker <b><i>"The Infamous Rassilon"</i></b> to introduce myself to anyone that cared, and across the back, I created the following polite suggestion, so I might work that day with fewer distractions. </span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/TShirtLogo.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I even devoted some time to make up colorful business cards about Ravenchase Adventures. The card explained the concept of the Ravenchase game and the location of their website. These cards being made for quick handout to people, who have in the past stopped me during hunts to explain to them what Ravenchase is all about, and what exactly I am doing running around with all those funny scrolls. I like to believe I thought of every contingency that day. Nothing was going to slow me, or detain me for long. </span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly1.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><b>Sunday, June 29th</b> finally arrived! That morning I was <b><i>Prepped!</i> </b>--- I was <b><i>Psyched!</i></b>--- I was <b>Ready!</b>--- I was ... <u><b><i>Really at Loose Ends</i></b></u>.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">At 9:00 am, the race would not begin for several more hours, and I did not know what to do with myself that morning. I was a victim of too much early prep work and research. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Rechecking the Train schedule once more, I found there was a train at 11:44 that would get me down to Philadelphia, with a half hour to spare before the race. There was also a train that would get me there an hour and a half ahead of time. On a strange whim, I chose the earlier train. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">This sudden caprice that seized me, I reasoned, would allow me time enough to get a renewed feeling for the historical area. It had been months since I was last down in the city. And the plan also allowed me to visit the Betsy Ross's House again, for a new souvenir token. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Last year, Ravenchase sent our intrepid teams to this historic location to collect one of these tokens as part of our hunt. I have kept mine all this time, as a small remembrance of the hunt, and as good luck piece. Recently, this coin dropped out of my bag during a hunt; now seemed an excellent time to replace it with a new one.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">This trip also held an extra bonus for me. In my research on the web, I discovered that a new statue of one of our Founding Fathers had been erected since the beginning of last year. It was not far from the Betsy Ross House. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I decided to have a closer look at this new addition, for it possessed an interesting design feature, one using keys. Over one thousand of them, in fact. A unique feature I suspected Ravenchase Adventures just might well make full use of one day. Again, it was this tiny voice in my head that whispered this small suggestion to go visit the statue. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Arriving in Center City early, I was glad to see that the weather was cooperating for the hunt. There had been a 70% percent chance of rain predicted that day. But the skies remained clear and sunny throughout the hunt. The rest of the weather was not so cooperative. 91 degrees with 99% percent humidity. Heat index made it about 101 degrees. It was your basic Rotisserie out there that day. Thank God for the invention of Cotton fabric. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Strolling down Market Street, I stopped by the building that housed a sculpture entitled, <i>"The Bicentennial Dawn."</i> When Lisa Duty and Chris Dove ran the Philadelphia Ravenchase hunts, they once used this location for one of their clues. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Unfortunately on that particular hunt, the City had removed the modern sculpture for cleaning and repair, which did cause a minor hic-up for Lisa's clue writing. Now, with the sculpture returned to its normal resting place; I finally got to see what I missed that day. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">To put it mildly and <i>(Ahem, cough...)</i> and at my kindest... I think instead of restoring it, our City fathers should have broken it up for kindling wood. The wood might have relieved some of the heating problems that the City faced last winter.--- As you might suspect, I am not a huge fan of modern art. Less so of its sculpture. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Continuing on, I crossed Independence Mall and stopped by to see an old friend. The grave of Benjamin Franklin. It has been a tradition in Philadelphia since the early 1800, to stop by Dr. Franklin's grave and toss a few pennies on his grave for luck. Most believe this tradition is related to his famous quotation <i>"A Penny Saved, is a Penny Earned",</i> but the tradition actually has it roots with young Brides-to-Be. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">On the day a woman was to be wed, young brides use to pass in front of Franklin�s Grave on the way to the church and toss pennies over the fence on it for good luck in their own marriages. Franklin, even back then, was well known, not only as a lover of beautiful women <i>i.e. "Notorious Rake,"</i> but for his fifty year marriage to the same woman, Deborah Read Rogers. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Nearly two hundred years later the tradition continues, and Dr. Franklin is officially listed as the oldest <i>"continuingly contributing member"</i> to his church. On average, over eight hundred dollars in coins are gathered each year from Ben Franklin's grave and donated to the Church.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Setting these thoughts aside, I passed near the gates of the cemetery and I tossed my pennies for luck on Franklin's grave. I noticed the outer gates were still locked. The cemetery opened at noon to the public, and that was still ten minutes away. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">On the other side of the gates, I saw people were setting up the Souvenir Stand and readying the tickets for the tour. I had taken the graveyard tour myself about a year ago and even still had the souvenir map of the more famous grave sites in my bag. Moving on, I went down the street towards the Betsy Ross House and the statue I was looking for. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The nine foot bronze sculpture titled, <i>"Keys to the Community"</i> was wonderful. Far above the modern sculpture I recently left behind. Perched up on a garden wall it seemed to express the full personality of the man. But beyond this, the statue revealed little to me. I examined it closely and found its features suggested nothing immediately as how it could be effectively used as a clue, so I entered the small park behind it. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The fountains were turned off, the ponds drained and there was a whimsical Hippo peering out at me from one of the walls. --- As a park, it was small, comfortable and a perfect quiet shaded place to spend a quiet lunch hour reading a favorite book in utter peace away from the rest of the world. Taking a few snapshots I moved on to the Betsy Ross House.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Betsy Ross's House remains a Mecca for all tourists to Philadelphia. Crowded from opening to closing, three hundred and sixty days a year, this day proved no different. I stayed only long enough to pick up my new token, purchase a cold Power-Aid drink and enjoy a soft pretzel in a shady corner of the courtyard. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Checking my watch again, I thought it was time to head over to <i>"The Signer"</i> Park where the Ravenchase Starter Clue told us we were to begin the race. On another whim, I decided to cut across Third street to Chestnut street.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">As I drew closer, something from my past caught my eye. A building, in point of fact a restaurant. This restaurant was the ending location for the very first Philadelphia Hunt, hosted by the creator of Ravenchase Adventures, Joshua Czarda. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I was on that first hunt, and in fact won my very first trophy <i>"The Bronze Squirrel,"</i> award for coming in Third. Which in retrospect wasn�t very hard, as there were only three teams running the race on that dark night in January. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The race, I will confess, was not one of my better showings and I've kept the bronze squirrel on my bookshelf all this time, not as a mark of personal triumph, but as a reminder that I won that race only by default. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Technically, this was really my second race with Ravenchase and my second loss. So the squirrel is always there to remind me, that I should always strive to do better next time. Taking out my camera once more, I clicked off a couple of shots of the building for my memory book and traveled on.</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly2.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><i>Signers Park</i> is nestled right next to Independence Hall. I admit I am slightly sentimental about this particular park, as this location is where I had my first life and death match encounter with my all time Greatest of Ravenchase enemies. A Nemesis known as, <i>"Hedera helix," </i>known to all by its more common name of, <i>English Garden Ivy.</i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">This Plant life's appetite I will warn you, knows no bounds. On my second Philadelphia hunt hosted by Lisa Duty and Chris Dove, it ate not only one of my clue scrolls, but two of my ink pens, and my reading glasses as well. I barely got away with my few remaining pencils. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">For safety sake, this time round, I decided to sit in the shadier side of the park and wait, for the others to arrive, rather than risk another chance encounter with this lurking insidious green beast. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">At 12:30 I looked up and spotted a very familiar face walking towards me. Doug Moore, Captain of the team <i>"Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess."</i> Doug and I first met on his first Ravenchase Hunt about a year ago. It was his birthday gift from his friends and family, and he and his family has been hooked on Ravenchase Adventures ever since. Doug was also one of my teammates for the Valentine's day hunt, where we as <i>Veterans</i>, were royally shown up by the <i>Newbies</i>.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I had hopes Doug was free and could run the race with me, but he told me that The HFMP would not be running that day and that he had a newer role to play. He had been asked by Kristine and Robert Jenner to help moderate the race. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Kristine could not be there that day. Burning her candle at three ends lately, she had to remain home to study for a degree she was working towards. A disappointment for me, as Doug, not only being a veteran of the game, but is excellent company to have on any race. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Fifteen minutes later, Robert Jenner showed up carrying the famous Ravenchase Treasure Chest. The chest containing our clue scrolls for the day. After I filled out the usual wavers, we all set about the task of trying to sort out the park's tourists from the contestants for our race that day. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Though Signer's Park is tiny, it was also very crowded that day and had several Revolutionary War actors running about the place trying to steal everyone for a mini-parade with their fife and drum corps. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The first to be sorted out was a team calling themselves,<i> "The Corn Huskers."</i> They were followed by <i>"The Jacoby Girls"</i>, one, or two of their group being veterans from a more recent New Hope Ravenchase Hunt. And lastly a young college aged couple, who dubbed themselves <i>"The Birthday Bears."</i> </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">There would be only four teams running that afternoon, I think the week long threat of heavy thunder showers that weekend, may have scared off a number of other teams from signing up. Even I debated about bringing my umbrella that day. The expected threat was that great. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">After the customary signing of the wavers, Robert settled in to explain the rules of the Game, and what to expect, should we encounter actors on the field today. --- Anyone dress as a <i>Policeman, or a Lady of the Evening</i>, was definitely <i>"NOT"</i> associated with Ravenchase. Any private negotiations you make with said, <i>Lady of the Evening</i>, were entirely your business and not to be viewed as extended services of Ravenchase Adventures. Especially, should the Police inquire with you later. Say, during your arrest...</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Sadly, there were to be <u><i>No Gold Coins</i></u> hidden along the race course that day that might shave a few extra minutes off our overall time. And there would also only be two trophies awarded that day. The Gold and the Silver. But the good news was, each team would be allotted <i>"One Free Hint"</i> via the phone, should they ran into trouble. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Any further phone calls to home base would cost your team a penalty of ten minutes each and the minutes would be added to your overall time score. Races are often won, or lost by mere minutes alone.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Rob then introduced my friend Doug, as one of the moderators of the hunt, and explained the "No Dividing and Conquer" rule of the game. All teams must stay together.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Quipping smartly, Rob jokingly added as he pointed to me, <i>"If you have any questions, or don�t know what to do... Just follow Rass. He is a one man Code Cracking Machine."</i> Personally, I think Rob was being kind by leaving out the part about me being a rather <i>"Slow" </i>code cracking machine. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">As a final gesture, Rob handed out to all the teams, his business card. The cards contained his cell phone number; but to the card itself, was carefully paper-clipped a <i>Red Ticket</i>. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The ticket, he explained mysteriously, would allow all the teams entrance into an area somewhere along the race course. He cautioned us to be very respectful of that museum, or area as we were to consider ourselves visiting guests while we were there. --- Checking his watch, Rob open the Ravenchase Treasure Chest and began handing out our clue scrolls and maps. The race had begun. </span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly3.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">As I had mentioned at the beginning of this report, Fate had a strange way of taking a hand that day. Before Rob had even given me my clue scrolls, <i>Destiny</i> was already fast at work. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I found myself not looking at the clue scrolls, but at the business card Robert had just handed me, and in particular the <i>Red Ticket</i>. Though it was a generic enough ticket and bore no other real markings, other than to say <i>"Admit One."</i> But, I had seen this very same ticket earlier. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Opening up my clue scrolls, I ignored the clue pages for the moment and went to straight to the map. From Rob's artistic renderings on the map, I saw that Fate was to take me hand by the hand that day not <i>"Once,"</i> but <i>"Twice."</i> I was off like a shot, intent on revisiting an old friend. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The Race was less then a minute old, and I was already speeding across Independence Mall, trying to do my best to Walk, Flatten out my Clue Scrolls, Avoid Traffic, Tourists, Venders and Panhandlers. All this, while sorting and reading through my clues pages, searching for the one I knew had to be there. --- All these actions, of course, being somewhat more difficult to do than just the usual, <i>Walking, Talking and Chewing Gum,</i> all at the same time. But I am a Ravenchase Adventurer. --- I�m multi-talented. --- I can do anything!!! <i>(within reason) </i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Arriving at one of Philadelphia�s more famous Cemeteries, I handed my red ticket to the gentleman at the gate's souvenir stand, and had a very uncomfortable moment, or two when the man looked at it curiously and asked me, <i>"What the Heck is this?"</i> The ticket was identical to the ones he already had on his counter. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><i>Did I make a fatal mistake? --- Was I wrong? ---Was my hunt suddenly doomed to failure from the start?</i> A small feeling of panic began to rise within me, when another gentleman came up to the Gatekeeper and said, <i>"Oh he's alright. I forgot to tell you to expect a group from Ravenchase Adventures. They will all be prepaid."</i> --- I was in. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The Cemetery, one of the oldest in Philadelphia, is the final resting place to four thousand souls. My clue said I was to find just one of its more famous residents. Thankfully I had taken the tour last year and I already knew what section of the graveyard he was resting.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">As I arrived at the grave site, within seconds two people appeared at my elbow. It was Team <i>Birthday Bears</i>; Suzi Alvarez and Dan Middovnik. The young College couple I had noticed at the start of the race. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Suzi especially was worth noting for her beautiful eyes, her soft shoulder length brown hair and brilliant winning smile. She was also still wearing her near florescent Pink Backpack. This backpack alone, I thought, made her an excellent future recruit for the <i>Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess Team</i>, who are notorious for their pink team shirts. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">My heart gently sighed, and skipped a beat, looking into the eyes of this vision of beauty; until I looked beyond her, into the face of her male companion as well, Dan Middovnik. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Young, virile, dark hair, sharp intelligent eyes, with chiseled good looks that even Brad Pitt might wish for. A man unquestioningly possessed all the Roman Classical Ideals of strength, grace, flat rippling washboard Abs and <i>undoubtedly</i>... the heart and the <i>sole affections</i> of the Fair Young Maiden, to boot. --- In short, the man was a <i>Living Adonis</i>; the outward breathing expression of a <i>"Living Nightmare,"</i> to all my secret hopes, dreams and aspirations that I should <i>"Ever"</i> find the slightest favor in this fair Lady's eyes. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">With all my hopes and illusions of <i>Romance</i> thus being crushed forever in an instant, and tossed carelessly aside in the proverbial waste can. I slapped myself back into reality with my own cruel hand and self-recriminations. I once again stood ready to set my mind, and all my thoughts, only on winning the race. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">By the swiftness of their appearance, I guessed the pair must have <i>"Literally"</i> taken Rob Jenner at his word, and followed me as he suggested. The thought amused me. It was a cleaver start for the "Birthday Bears," if they did so. No other teams were in sight behind us. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The clue scroll for this area was divided in three sections, each one an Ottendorf Cipher involving grave plaques. You deciphered one, this would lead you to seek out another grave site, and that in turn would lead you to a third, which would give you the true and final question to be answered on your clue sheet. The only problem being, with (4,000) four thousand souls occupying the graveyard, this left a lot of possibilities to explore. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">In high praise to Team <i>Birthday Bears</i>, I will admit that Dan Middovnik must have had a very retentive memory. Because he seemed to be deciphering the first plaque with ease standing back from it. While I, using my finger, had to recount several of the text lines a number of times. But, we both reach the same conclusion about a minute a part. We had our second name to find. But where was it? I reached for my <i>Indiana Jones Bag</i> for help. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Among my maps in my bag, I had a copy of the souvenir map of this cemetery. I had paid two dollars for it over a year ago and it has remained quietly in my bag ever since. My small investment was about to finally pay off. Checking the map and the index, I saw that our quarry lay somewhere to the south of us. One of the taller monuments, if the map's artist was to be trusted.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Ravenchase Rules forbid me from mentioning what the names were, or even what the question was, in case they decide to reuse the area for future hunts. But even with a map in hand the names were not that easy to find. I think Team <i>Birthday Bears</i> and I shameless used each other to <i>"Birddog"</i> the locations of the headstones to get the answers, but that is part of the fun of a race. Discovering whose team could remain both effortlessly charming, friendly and wickedly clever at the same time.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The final stone lay to the west, and after two minutes of translation, both teams had the final question. But I still had the edge. I still had the map. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Using the souvenir map I was able to fill in the four remaining lines correctly and in the correct order. I was ready to move on. But, I felt slightly guilty having this edge on the Birthday Bears, so I decided to level the playing field just a little to be fair.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I was both <i>"Kind and Rotten,"</i> if such a strange paradox can ever exist together, I called the Suzi and Dan over and rattled off the information they needed, with the delicate speed of a machine gun. The information was clear, but far too fast for them to write them down. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">They would at least know verbally the information they were seeking. If they were as clever as I thought they both were, they could simply ask one of the tour guides to point out the needed locations for them.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">For myself, I calculated that this ploy would allow me an extra five extra minutes of distance between our two teams. Snapping a photo of The Birthday Bears at work, I quietly slipped away, noting that there were still no signs of any of the other teams. </span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly4.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">In the first sixty seconds of the race, I mentioned fate taking me by the hand twice. This second touching of fate was to be my next location. When I had looked earlier looked at the map, my eyes caught hold of a second icon printed near the top of the page. It was the image of a small park. The same small park, I had noted as a fine refuge from the world to relax and read a good book. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">These random slivering fragments of coincidence and fate, falling into alignment for me, were astronomically in their proportions. I wasn't brave enough to dare even try to calculate the odds of seeing these events align again naturally on their own. This was something grander to ponder later. For now, I merely decided to go with it, and see where the winds were taking me.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">It was about quarter of two when I turned the corner, and entered the shady retreat. All was just as I left it, except now on one of the park benches sat a man quietly reading a book. On the table before him, lay a Checker Board; as though he was waiting for someone to engage him openly in a game. </span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly7.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Suspecting, but not really to commit, I wandered closer to the man to get a better look at the Checker board. The game appeared to be already in play. Black was winning as there were only three red pieces left. But, on one of the game pieces was the Ravenchase Logo. I had found our actor of the day. Our actor, I was to learn later, was Nick Preckel. Nick was another veteran player of Ravenchase, who was drafted by Robert and Kristine Jenner to help out that day.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Setting aside his book, Nick smiled and then invited me to take a seat, immediately asking me to consider the following problem. <i>"In the game of Chess, or Checkers."</i> he asked, <i>"Who goes first? White, or Black? Fire, or Smoke?" </i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">An interesting question. And one that has deeper ramifications, if you the reader reflect on it. Recently, I read the very fine book, <i>"The Eight"</i> by Katherine Neville. An adventure novel along the lines of <i>"The Da Vinci Code"</i> set against a background of history and the World of Chess. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Until reading this book I had never, during my entire life, considered the following thought. In Chess, as in Checkers, <i>"White, or Fire"</i> goes first. This makes <i>"White" </i>the <i>Aggressor</i> and <i>"Black"</i> the <i>Defender</i>. White is evil. Black is good. The world, and everything we know, turned upside down. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Looking at the board I examined the layout of the pieces. My first thought was that I was suppose to figure out a solution to winning the game with only three red pieces. Only then perhaps, I would be given my next clue scroll. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">But, the strange set up of pieces, showed this idea to be impossible. This is when I remembered my stray thought about the relationship of White and Black in the game. Everything was turned upside down. </span></span></div><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Reaching over, I turned over the three red pieces on the board. A short message appeared. <b>"Q=A"</b> Following the curving layout of the rest of the black pieces from there, the complete message appeared before me. <b>"FZPSUSWZONHTW" </b>I had uncovered my next clue, a Caesar Cipher. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Reaching into my bag, I pulled out one of my own Cipher wheels that I always carry with me. As I was adjusting it, so that <b>"Q" </b>equaled <b>"A."</b> My checkers companion, Nick, opened a small gaming box next to him, and offered me homemade Cipher Slide.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I was about to thank him for his kindness, saying that I had a Cipher Wheel of my own, when I noticed that there was something very odd about his homemade cipher slide. The alphabet printed on it was completely scrambled. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I have to confess a part of me inside had to laugh. I have so often openly bragged in my hunt reviews about my <i>"Indiana Jones Bag," </i>and the gadgets it contains. I now realized that Robert and Kristine Jenner must have been taking notes and were doing their level upmost to <i>"Level out the playing field" </i>on their own for the other hunters on the course that day.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">They had in a single stroke neutralized all three of the code wheels I generally keep in my bag; by simply creating a new scrambled version of their own. The Cipher would remain unbreakable, without both the right Cipher Slide and the proper Code Key. Only a computer might crack the code without it. --- I give full marks for these two, for being so sneaky in their approach that day.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Using Nick�s Cipher slide, and about four minutes of my time, brought me my answer. Again I apologize if I can not reveal what the question was to you. But, rules are rules. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Filling in my clue sheet and looking towards my next location, I saw it was time to travel on. This hidden park was a wonderful place to rest, but it was later to prove a bit too hidden from the rest of the outside world. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">A story I learned later at the bar, was that Team Corn Huskers had been completely stymied by this clue's location. --- Not familiar with the park, they had stopped in at a local Fire Station asking the men inside for directions. They were told by every Firemen they encountered, that none of them had never heard of the park and hadn't the slightest idea where it might be located. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">This thunderbolt of information, which struck down <i>Team Corn Huskers</i> main chances in winning the race, could also explain why in Philadelphia, so many Fires have been known to go frequently from One Alarm to Three Alarm Fires. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">To explain this statement, I will simply point out that while Team Corn Huskers were putting intelligent serious questions to these Wonderful Firemen, they were also standing exactly sixty feet from the entrance to the park itself. </span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly14.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The West Wall of the Park "WAS" the Firehouse itself. They stand side by side. --- Kind of scary when you think about, isn't it? </span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly5.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Heading westward now, my next clue scroll told me I was in search of an archeological dig. Philadelphia, like Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia; both being rooted in the 18th Century; are forever being dug up by archeologists in search of its distant past. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I knew of the dig from the newspaper reports, but was not sure of the exact location; so I headed for the Historic District's Visitors Center. If I have learned anything from doing Ravenchase Adventure hunts in Philadelphia, it is this. When in doubt, don't "ever" ask a Policeman, or a Park Ranger. Ask anyone dressed in 18th century garb.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Historic Recreationists love to show off their knowledge of the past, and of the area they work in. The Visitors Center has a number of these recreationists on permanent retainer, to help visitors find their way around Philadelphia. The building also possesses for my purpose, several easy access Rest Rooms, which are sometimes of a far greater importance to any adventurer.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Using the facilities first, I found a Recreationist dressed as a Foot Soldier standing near the lower entrance hallway. His answer to my question surprised me, as I was astonishing close to my destination. The house that was built by Mary Lawrence Masters, was just to the south of the Visitor�s Center. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">As a piece of history, this house was remarkable. It was once use by the Grandson of William Penn, as a Governor's Manson. Sir William Howe, during the British occupation, used it as his headquarters. Robert Morris, one of the Signers of the Declaration later purchased the house. And it is said that Benedict Arnold, began his betrayal of his country in this very same house when he visited it. So much history, pooled in one small area.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Only the foundations of the building remain and a wooden platform allowed visitors to oversee the foundations and imagine what the house that once stood there might have looked like. --- But, as far as I could discover, Benjamin Franklin was never a noted guest in this house.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I found nothing that suggested Benjamin Franklin was ever associated with it, or how his famous key, as the clue described, would came into play here. What I did find, was <i>Team Corn Huskers</i> ahead of me, collectively scratching their heads over the very same problem as well.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Searching among the historical plaques, I think Team <i>Corn Huskers </i>and I discovered the answer roughly about the same moment, yet in two different fashions. They found a pamphlet that was left behind, and I found an advertisement taped to one of the Historical Markers. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">On the advertisement was the silhouetted profile of Ben Franklin, next to an image of a large iron key. It invited visitors to learn more about the site by using their cell phones and dialing a special number. To listen to the right recording, you needed only enter the correct location code found on the bottom of the page.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">This was what was discovered on both the pamphlet and the marker. Both teams dialed the number and very shortly had the answer to the question posed on the bottom of our clue sheets. The <i>Corn Huskers </i>now joyously headed further south, while I headed eastward. My next clue was taking me to another ghostly reminder of a house. </span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly6.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Fate, as it is often said, possess a woman's temperament. Because, like a woman, she is ever changeable in her moods; like the moon above, and ever more so in her affections. For you see Fate, <i>is Wed to No One.</i> All this I was about to discover at my next location, as I turned down the cobblestone alley, just off Market street and entered the courtyard of the Ghostly House. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Up to now, with the exception perhaps of the Park and its Scrabbled Cipher code. I thought I was just <i>Rip-Roaring-Along</i> in my quest. Here, I was to come face to face with my biggest stumbling block of the day ...<b><u>Myself!</u></b> --- In this one location I lost more time than at any of the other location combined. And it was due to just two simple things; <i>"Stupidity and a Slip of my own Pencil."</i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The Ghostly house, like the Mary Lawrence Master's house, was just a suggestion of what once was. No pictures or paintings exist of the house itself, and so a frame was erected to give substance to the building that once was, based solely on the original foundations that were excavated. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Strewn across nearly every surface in the courtyard, were stone slates holding carved inscriptions from the man who once lived there, his wife, friends, family, and visitors describing various aspects of what the house was like while it was being built, or visits it after completion. Somewhere among all these quotations lay the first half of my clue. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The Code was a Polybius Cipher. Fill in the correct quotation within the squared section of your clue; then using the key letters, decipher your question. The question that was asked, would then lead you to the final solution. This you would then fill into the ten numbered blanks along the bottom of the page. Sounds simple enough, but not so easily done. The quotations were everywhere.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I had been hard at it for about five minutes searching, when I heard a familiar and friendly voice call out to me. Looking up I saw Robert Jenner and my friend Doug, out walking the course to see how the teams were doing, and to check that the teams were still together. Not a hard thing to do in my case. Asking how I was doing, I told them of my progress thus far in the game and giving special mention of his rotten use of the scrambled Cipher slide. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The smile on Robert's face made him look like a over-grown self-satisfied child, who had been caught, <i>"After" </i>he had finished eating all the Chocolate chips cookies from the baking tray. Even my <i>"so called"</i> friend Doug suppressed a small grin at my expense, but the twinkle was definitely in his eyes, <i>(These smirks at my expense have lead me to seriously consider striking both of their names from of my Christmas card list this year.)</i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">As they departed, Robert delivered one final salvo over his shoulder. <i>"Have fun at the Eternal Flame" </i>There was a soft maniacal lilt of laughter in his voice that was carried upon the winds, and that wind did not bode well for our Local Hero at large. I went back to work. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">About half way through my circuit of the courtyard, I thought I had found the quotation I needed. Quickly scribbling it down in the boxes, I found myself cursing that it was exactly one letter too long to fit my squares. I was forced to start again, erasing all that I had done. But at least I thought I now knew the rough length of the quotation I needed.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I made two more circuits of the Courtyard without success. It was becoming maddening. My time was dissolving away in front of me like ice in the desert. All that I had gained, I had now lost. And still none of the other quotations fit the Square. I returned to the original stone and reexamined it. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Carefully reading and filling in the squares one at a time, suddenly all the letters fit perfectly now. I realized my earlier mistake. --- I was stupid. --- In my hast, I had misspelled one single word. And that single mistake had thrown off my entire box. Translating the code I uncovered my question, but the answer was to prove just as elusive as the question had been. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I needed two words that added up to exactly ten letters. But where in this vast courtyard were they. Fate had not only abandoned me like an unfaithful lover, but worse decided to torment me with the arrival of <i>Team Jacoby Girls</i> on site. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The pressure was on and my frustration levels were once again on the rise. I knew what I was looking for and there were several possibilities, but the information was still not fitting as I thought it should. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Six minutes later I found an answer, and it was exactly ten letters long. Simple and elegant it related to the question, and fit the puzzle perfectly. Though, I was still bothered in the back of my mind by the strange <i>"wording" </i>of the question, but it was time for me to move on. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><i>The Jacoby Girls</i> were now getting frustrated by the problem as well. And I notice one of them was on the phone, with Rob I supposed, while another looked to me and asked me for any hints to the problem.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">My lips parted, and I was actually about to give her and her team a hint, when I noticed the woman was standing exactly on the very quotation she needed. --- To say <i>"Just look down"</i> would have been far too easy. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">So, I apologetically and very cryptically said, <i>"You are definitely in the right spot,"</i> and hurried on. Not knowing, for the moment, that while my own answer to the puzzle relate to the coded question effortlessly, and it fit the puzzle flawlessly, in both size and length. My answer was also later to be proven, utterly and completely <u><b>WRONG!</b></u></span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly8.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Hurrying across Chestnut street, I was making my way to a building dedicated to the Masonic like builders of Independence Hall. It was while I was on my way to this spot, that I ran into Team Corn Huskers again, coming in the opposite direction. I assumed that they were on their way to the Ghostly house. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">As we passed each other, one of their teammates, looked quietly at me and weakly said, <i>"Help."</i> The heat of the day and the frustration of the hunt was having its toll them. Normally, I might have stopped and lent a hand, but having lost far too much time at the Ghostly House I couldn�t. I had two clues yet to solve, and I did not know how far ahead, or behind me their team was. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">My printed clue spoke of finding a house no longer with foundations, possessing a Raven�s curse to search. The wording alone made my blood run momentarily cold. Robert and Kristine Jenner seemingly had pulled out all the stops to confound me personally it seemed that day. I was to once again face my oldest and most diabolical of enemies again. One I had purposely avoided earlier that day, <i>"Hedera Helix"</i> --- English Garden Ivy.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">When I was younger and just starting my college years, I worked during the summer for the Philadelphia Park Service, helping run one of their historical plays down at The Second Bank. The Building was not far from where I now stood, and I had taken many of my lunch breaks in this area. I knew, Robert's and Kristine's simple worded clue was very deceptive in its nature. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Within this part of the park's confines, there were perhaps at least a dozen brick foundations, <i>(houses without foundations)</i> showing with their markers, where some of the original buildings from the eighteenth century had once stood. All of these brick lined representations were filled to the brim with English Garden Ivy. Robert and Kristine Jenner had sent all the teams out to do battle with at least a dozen Green-eyed Monsters.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Shifting anything loose like pens, pencils and eye glasses to my Velcro Locking pockets, I launched myself into a preemptive strike against my old arch enemy. Taking on each Ivy bed, one at a time and as I found them. The first two viciously fought back refusing to surrender up any treasure, aside from an old candy wrapper and two popsicle sticks. The third was another story. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The first two sides yielded nothing, but as I moved to the third side, a sudden breeze came up; the first I had felt all day long. A rustle of leaves to my right attracted my attention and as my head turned; I glimpsed the color of parchment and a flash of red, as the leaves parted. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Fate had returned to help me, or perhaps torment me, like an unfaithful Lover. And like any unfaithful Lover from our past, we willingly welcomed them back. Not because we believed they have changed, or learned the value of what they had so easily discarded and left behind. But, for a fare simpler reason� We allow this to happen, because our Hearts foolishly <i>"Want"</i> to believe in them again. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Lifting aside the leaves, I removed from its hiding place, a parchment scroll to which was tied a red ribbon and with it, a curious old fashion key. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Opening the scroll, I found not just another clue, but <i>"The"</i> Final clue. A Cipher Grid, to which all other answers of the day were to be entered. I collapsed the scroll and hurried on, I had one more clue to solve before this scroll would reveal its secret. I had to locate the Eternal flame. </span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly9.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Eternal Flame Park, <i>(not it's real name,)</i> had worried me since Robert and Doug mentioned it. It was that soft maniacal lilt in Robert's voice that suggested that he and Kristine had again cooked up something special. The clue said I was to seek out, within the park, a stone with a Raven�s secret. I was to find it hidden among the numbered trees. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">What I found among the trees, was not only the hidden stone, but some old comrades in arms; <i>Team Birthday Bears.</i> Suzi Alvarez and Dan Middovnik were sitting cross legged on the ground before a small plaque on stone, looking a bit confused. They smiled, and gave me a friendly wave inviting me to come over and join them. Settling in, I saw that they had been there for sometime and they were confounded by the puzzle before them. Looking at it, I could understand why. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">On the stone, where once had been a brass plaque, was now taped a Vigenere Cipher grid, but one I had never seen before. This grid, like cipher slide I encountered earlier, was again scrambled. No wonder Robert Jenner had chuckled so manically back at the Ghostly house. This grid completed negated yet another page out of my personal code book, though I was to learn later that <i>the Twisted Vigenere</i> was actually the brain child of Baltimore Ravenchase Cryptologists Alex and Anji Stinson. <i>(They too, may not find their way onto my Christmas card list this year.)</i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">But, however scramble, the grid still had to behaved like a normal Vigen�re, though the pattern of translation have also been twisted. All this I explained to Suzi and Dan, while I placed the key word hidden within the clue over the cipher text and began my translation. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Two tries, and the words began to appear. Within two minutes both our teams had the answer, or rather another question. We were to find a certain tree and discover its importance. I had one idea of which tree it was, but Dan had another. It turned out Dan's idea was the correct one. Once again we had both shamelessly used each others teams to <i>"Bird Dog" </i>the location. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Having my final answer, I was once again in the mood to be both generous and giving. I ask Suzi and Dan how they were doing, and if they had been to the Ghostly house yet. It turned out that was their next planned stop. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Flipping through my pages, I told them I could not give them the entire message they needed, but I would give them the first line of the quotation that they needed to find. This I calculated would save them at least fifteen minutes of searching. This seemed a fair and balanced reward for all their <i>"birddog"</i> help in the park</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Reading slowly this time, Dan took down the words I dictated to them and he and Suzi were off in a shot; while I settled in on a nearby park bench to work on the final grid. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The overall concept of the grid was simple. Fill in the numbered squares, then place the eye of the key over markers set within the grid, and the key would then indicate which of the letters I was to written down to produce the name of the end location of the hunt. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">My first problem was there were at least one hundred and twenty blocks to be filled in on the clue sheet using all the answers from the other pages. --- And the second problem was I was not certain when using the old fashion key, whether I was to use the tip of the key as my indicator, or the tongue of the key. If it was the tongue, it would drop the indicator down to another line creating an <b>"L"</b> shaped shift much like the movement a Knight performs in the game of chess. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The first problem could be solved with just a pencil and plain dogged determination; but for speed sake in the second problem, I decided it was time to use my one <i>"Free"</i> phone call of the hunt. I called Rob for clarification on the use of the key.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Answering the phone, Rob seemed pleased to hear from me and to find I was so near to the final solution. He also confirmed it was the tip of the key I needed to pay attention to as my indicator.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Hanging up, I ordered my pages and began scribbling like a man possessed. I was still very aware of how much time I had lost at the Ghostly house and I was determined to make no further mistakes. Eight minutes later, with the blanks filled completely in, I put the key to use and produced what I thought was an impossible message. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The message said that the teams were to end not at a Bar, or a Restaurant, but what sounded like... <u><i>an Automotive Supply Store???</i></u> My confusion in the matter reigned supreme, and was further complicated by the fact that two of the words in my message were misspelled. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I reworked the message a second time to confirm that I had translated it correctly. I traced the misspellings back to a single clue; the Ghostly House. It was plain at this point, that I discovered the one wrong answer that fit perfectly in my puzzle. I was now in a desperate situation. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Checking my watch, I decided desperate situations required equally desperate actions. It was time to pull another trick out of my famous <i>Indiana Jones Bag.</i> </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I mentioned at the beginning of my story, that in preparing for this hunt, I had reconsidered everything in my bag and removed a number of objects that had proven useless to me. What I failed to mention was, I also added a few new unique items. --- One of them being the pocket edition of the <i>ZAGAT's 2008 Restaurant Review;</i> an alphabetical index of every current restaurant and bar in the city of Philadelphia.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I was on the move again, leaving the park far behind me, trying to do my upmost to once again to Walk, Contemplate the problem, Avoid Traffic, Tourists, and Venders, all the while paging through <i>ZAGAT'S</i> Restaurant Review, trying to discover if something out there truly existed. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Flipping through <i>ZAGAT's,</i> I found buried under the <b>"N's"</b> there was indeed a restaurant that sounded like an Auto Supply Store, <i>"National Mechanics."</i> It was on Third Street between Chestnut and Market Streets. The book even gave me the exact address, so there was no need for me to call Robert again, or Information for directions. For now, all that mattered was my speed in getting there.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">As I turned the corner onto Third street, I discovered that I was at least on the right side of the street. With each passing building, I clicked off street addresses in my mind until I saw my destination waiting for me half way down the block. I also saw something else --- Fate.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Fate, was there waiting for me on the stone steps. She smiled at me and was almost playfully laughing at me for the comical look upon my face, as I realized I had finally come full circle in my adventures with Ravenchase. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The Restaurant, <i>National Mechanics</i>, was the very same restaurant that the first Philadelphia Ravenchase Hunt had ended at. The very same restaurant, that earlier that morning, I had paused in my journey to take a few nostalgic snap shots, without taking note of the name. Fate was indeed having her way with me that day, and I was her unsuspecting puppet; if not her most willing fool for her personal amusement. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Mounting the stairs of the Federal style building and passing between the large Roman colonnades, I stepped through the doors as if I was entering into the Ancient Temple of Dionysus. I entered freely in this last leg of my journey to make the final discovery of what my fate would be. </span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly10.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Inside the restaurant, my eyes took a moment or two to transition from the bleaching brightness of daylight to the subdued darkness of the interior. But, from what I could make out, the restaurant had not changed much at all since I was last there; though I was told by my friend Doug, the restaurant had changed hands and had been renamed several times since that first Philadelphia Ravenchase Hunt.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Looking across to my left, I dimly made out a young couple being served at the same table, where I myself had sat once. My heart sank. It appeared that Team Birthday Bears had beaten me to the restaurant. I assumed that Dan and Suzi must have filled in the last clue sheet and made the same intuitive leap about the Ghostly House clue I had, and arrived just ahead of me. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Looking ahead, my eyes still adjusting to the darkness, I spotted my friend Doug Moore standing by the Moderator's table at the back of the restaurant. Doug was just standing there, staring wide eyed at me, and looking more that just a little bit like a proverbial stunned sheep.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><i>"Rass," he said, "I don't believe it... You won... You won the race."</i> </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Looking back over at the table where I thought Dan and Suzi were sitting; I could now see that there was no florescent pink backpack next to them. The couple, enjoying their salads, weren't who I first thought they were and there were no other teams in the restaurant. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Winning, I can tell you, can be a very weird feeling to have to deal with. The entire concept tends to throw you off a bit, especially after having just mentally resigned myself to losing only moments before.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">It had been a year and a half since my last official <i>First Place</i> win. It was when I took home the <i>Golden Gnome</i> from Chris Dove and Lisa Duty, when the pair of them took on Philadelphia Ravenchase. My Team had brought home the Silver Horse in the private Lexington Virginia Hunt, but this would be my first Gold placement under the parentage of Robert and Kristine Jenner. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The best I had managed up to now was two Bronze positions, several Honorable mentions and a <i>"Really" </i>embarrassing placement somewhere in the back of the pack. I don't even allow myself to count the Halloween race I won last year, when Rob Jenner called me up an hour before the race and announced I was the winner by the ridiculous fact that all other teams had bowed out at the last minute. <i>( I doubted seriously it was out of fear of going up against me.)</i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Doug whipped out a camera and fired off a few photos of the Ravenchase scrapbook, while I put on a pitifully lame display of posing for him. My real thoughts at the moment were to find a chair, collapse into, and then order a very large Coke to cut the dust from my throat. I still was having trouble getting over the novelty of winning the race.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">As a reader, I should confess to you that I am not known as the <b>"Infamous"</b> Rassilon, for my fabulous abilities to Research, Prepare and Win these races effortlessly; but rather I gained this peculiar moniker of mine for my unusual habit of giving out enormously longwinded and unique perceptive reports to the rest of the <i>Incarcerated Inmates</i> of Ravenchase. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">While Doug was entering my official time into the records, the front door opened again and Team <i>"Jacoby Girls"</i> valiantly stumbled across the finish line, just a mere two and a half minutes behind me. This was a very slender margin to seize the Silver Challis in the race. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Our two teams placements and the trophies might have interchanged entirely, had I been held up by a single traffic light crossing the street getting here. But, such are the whims and ways of Fate. Fate for whatever reason, had chosen to play on my side this day; next time I may be her painted fool and be utterly last. --- <i>"Fate,"</i> as I said before, <i>"is Wed to No One."</i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Rob Jenner, who had been out checking the course, entered next to find the first two teams settling in and first rounds of drinks being ordered. As there were only two grand prizes to be awarded that day, he took this opportunity to call the remaining teams in and gave them the address of the Restaurant, asking them to meet us here.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Had there been a Bronze placement in the race that day it would have gone to <i>Team Birthday Bears</i>. They were the next to arrive, about eight minutes later, carrying with them a horrible war story.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Like me during the Christmas New Hope Race, they had mistaken one location for another, and were at a park on the opposite side of Independence Mall, rather than at the Ghostly House. It was a simple case of similar names, but entirely different locations.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">While we placed our orders for food and awaited the last teams arrive; Doug and I regaled the <i>Jacoby Girls</i> with our tales of misadventures with Ravenchase. --- Doug told the story about our Valentine's day fiasco, in which our team was saved by a single digital photograph taken by our teammate, <i>"Holly, from Down Under." </i>And I told the story my <i>missing </i>a single digital photo, that might have saved my team, due to my mysterious encounter with, <i>"The Enchantress," </i>a resident member of Doug's team <i>"The Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess."</i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The telling of war stories is a time honored tradition among Ravenchasers. Sometimes half the fun of the day is sitting at the bar with a drink in your hand and discovering the brilliance, along with the blunders each of us made during the course of the race. These stories makes you believe that anything is possible, even winning the next time; when you hear how many people loss a few races, before they actually began to win a few. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><i>Team Corn Huskers</i> arrived at the restaurant, just about the same time my order of Fish & Chips arrived at my table along with my glass of wine. The <i>Corn Huskers</i> had been delayed, as they were out making one final attempt to find the secluded park, with its Checker playing actor, Nick Preckel. But, Nick had given up his post sometime ago, and was now seated at the restaurant with us. It had been a long race for <i>Team Corn Huskers,</i> but once drinks were in their hands, these ills were soon forgotten. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I will make special mention that during the course of the party, I did play one small joke on my friend Rob Jenner in minor revenge for all the jokes he had made that day at my expense ...<i>(i.e. Pointing me out at the beginning of the race, scrambling the cipher slide, the Twisted Vigenere grids and of course the blatant use of Garden Ivy, overshadowed by his own soft maniacal laughter during the game.) </i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">As Team Corn Huskers were settling in, Rob stood by their table and openly reminded them all that the first drinks were always on Ravenchase Adventures. ---Seizing upon the moment, I immediately piped up and suggested that we should all order a round of drinks and raise our glasses to <i>Team Corn Huskers</i> for their brave showing with tall glasses of <i>Glenfiddich Ancient Reserve Scotch Whiskey</i>. --- Rob�s face momentarily went white, drained of all color.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Anyone who knows their Scotch Whiskey, and Rob does, will know that Glenfiddich Ancient Reserve, runs about <i>($30.00 ) Thirty dollars</i> a glass in any bar. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Even with the small turnout, such as we had that day, my suggestion would have bankrupt Ravenchase Adventures for the next three, or four hunts to come. Fortunately for Rob's wallet, <i>(and my Future planned Life Expectancy on this planet...)</i> No one took my suggestion seriously.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The only other suggestion of what to drink that day, came from one of the locals at the bar. Observing the trophies on the table and gathering the gist of what the party was about, he suggested that the trophies be filled with his favorite Ale and the winners forced to chug the whole lot. The name of the Ale he suggested was ... "ARROGANT BASTARD ALE." </span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly13.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I did have to laugh at this name, as I too had a stray thought about this Ale. One of the more notable Teams among Ravenchase Players, refers to themselves as <i>"The Kilts."</i> --- And <i>"The Kilts"</i> will more than proudly tell you that they owe their great success at winning Ravenchase Hunts not only to skill, or code cracking abilities, but to their drinking of <i>"Car Bombs;</i>" which is a mixture of <i>Guinness Beer</i> with Bailey�s Irish Cream and Whiskey. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I briefly wondered what effect substituting <i>Arrogant Bastard Ale</i> for <i>the Guinness </i>would have on <i>"The Kilts?" </i>--- We might be talking World Domination! --- And the World, I feel... may be safer never knowing.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">For myself, in case anyone was wondering, I ordered a White Wine to go with my Fish & Chips. <i>(Trust me, I do know my small place in the universe.)</i> Besides, the Trophies themselves were already filled with candy.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Rob did have one more Trophy to hand out that day. A time honored tradition in the British / Australian school system is the presentation of <i>"The Wooden Spoon"</i> award. A tradition, dating back over 100 years ago, calling for a special prize to be awarded to the student with the <i>"Lowest Test Scores"</i> in their finals. --- The Wooden Spoon with its inscribed Latin Phrase, <i>"Intueor is quod Ploro,"</i> has strangely, over the years, become a strangely sought after badge of honor among the students of Cambridge University.--- Don't ask me why?</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Rob, having been born in Australia, decided to revive the tradition in American with a slight update. Instead of a Wooden Spoon, Rob presented the Purple <i>"Goose Egg"</i> to the team that came in last and showed themselves to being such good sports at the finish. This trophy was awarded to <i>Team Corn Huskers </i>for their brave showing that day and for never giving up.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">The Party slowly broke up about an hour later, as each team took their leave thanking Rob and our actors for the great day out. For me, with the Golden Bowl tucked under my arm, I headed home amid stares from the people on the street and on the train, examining the unusual message on the back of my T-Shirt and the trophy. But I didn't care. It truly had been a great day out. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Arriving home and hour later and after settling in, I went to my bookcase and took down the <i>Bronze Squirrel</i> award I won at my first Ravenchase Hunt. At first I thought it was time to retire him to the back shelf of one of my closets; but on reflection, I remembered an ancient story about Julius Caesar and gained from it, a bit of wisdom. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">It is said that Julius Caesar, as he rose in Power, Fame and Fortune, was wise enough to see that all these things might alter his perception of the World. So he employed and paid handsomely a servant, whose sole purpose was to stand near him and listen to his words when he spoke. And when needed, gently remind him of two simple things. First and foremost, that he was <i>Human.</i> And second of all, that <i>"All Fame was fleeting." </i></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Pushing aside the <i>Golden Bowl</i> and the <i>Golden Gnome</i>, I put the <i>Bronze squirrel</i> squarely between them. It is good, I decided, that even though I won the gold that day; it was in fact more by the whim of fate, rather than by wit and skill. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">There will always room for improvement. I had been foolish and wasted far too much time at Ghostly house. And in the end, I still walked away with the wrong answer for all my trouble. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I should had used my one free phone call at that location and gained twenty minutes. And later on, while at the bar, Robert Jenner, showed me a way that I could have shaved another eight minutes off my time with the final clue. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">This hint was made all the more painful, by the fact that my friend Flidias, A.K.A. Britney down in Baltimore, had shown me this same trick months ago and I had forgotten it. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Yes, there was always room for improvement in the playing any Ravenchase game. And so, for the moment the <i>Bronze Squirrel</i> will remain on my shelf to remind me that I am, <i>Human</i>, with human frailties and that "<i>all Fame is truly Fleeting, not Eternal</i>." </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">Till we all meet again on the field of battle at Ravenchase...</span></span></div><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg">I remain yours truly, </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><b>The Ever <i>"Infamous"</i> Rassilon <img title="" height="15" alt="" src="http://www.class4takeout.com/ravenforum/icon_smile_cool.gif" width="15" align="middle" border="0" /> </b></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"><center><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/Philly11.jpg" border="0" /></center></span></span><div style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,51); TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /></div><span style="font-family:Book Antiqua;font-size:100%;"><span class="spnMessageText" id="msg"></span></span>Rassilonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01721185481568744682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049559609067254814.post-85905246221997849362008-12-26T11:50:00.003-05:002008-12-26T19:47:32.962-05:00Quest for William Penn's PEN<div align="center"><b><i><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: rgb(46, 139, 87);">"The Quest for William Penn's Pen"<!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i></b><br /><br /><b>Philadelphia – Aug 18th</b><br /><br /> <img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/quill.jpg" class="linked-image" border="0" /><br /> <br /> <br /> <b>Another Review<br /> By<br /> Rassilon</b><br /> <br /> <br /> <!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--><i><b><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> <!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></b></i><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--> <div align="center"><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--><i><b><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo-->Inspector: You know, there's a word for people who<br /> think everyone is conspiring against them.<br /><br /> Woody Allen: Yes, I know… <!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo-->Perceptive!!!<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><br /><br /> --- Curse of the Jade Scorpion<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></b></i><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--> </div><br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <div style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);" align="center"><u><b>A Conspiracy of Infamy against the "Infamous!"</b></u></div> <br /> <br /> <div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"> Today, I must begin my report, strangely, with an apology to all my fellow travelers on this particular Ravenchase Hunt. Apologizing for the pain, suffering and their excessive trips to the medicine cabinet is quest of aspirin. All your torments at the beginning of this race were inadvertently my fault.<br /> <br /> As Shakespeare might have described it, a sort of <i>"Merry War of Words"</i> has broken out between Robert & Kristine Jenner and myself. All of which caused the bar on the last race to be raised a little higher. Namely, the appearance of that <i>"Unique Starter Clue"</i> for <i>"The Quest for William Penn's Pen" </i>hunt held in Philadelphia, on August 18th.<br /> <br /> The events are these. --- One week earlier, Robert Jenner, of Ravenchase's New Jersey branch, was trying his hand at his very first Starter Clue for the Princeton race, <i>"Catch a Tiger by it's Toe." </i><br /> <br /> Kristine, their usual resident Puzzle Master, was off gathering a few new grey hairs, as well as losing a few grey cells, over the puzzling out of four new and different hunts they were assembling for Corporate clients.<br /> <br /> With her hands so full, she had left the creation of the starter clue for the Princeton Hunt in the capable and loving hands of her husband, Robert. Rob, welcomed the challenge, and diligently sat down at his own desk to pondered, plot and wax poetically over his Starter clue for days.<br /> <br /> At its birth, like all Fathers, Robert was enormously proud of his <i>"First Born Brain Child;"</i> having poured much of himself into the project. It shone brightly in his eyes, and he beamed with Parental pride, as he sent it out to play among the children of the internet and everyone on Ravenchase's mailing list.<br /> <br /> His dream, being of course, that a last minute group would discover it, solve it and would in the delight of their success, decide to sign up for the Princeton Hunt as well. This was how this particular Starter Clue came to disembarked itself upon my doorstep, via my e-mail.<br /> <br /> Finding a good mental challenge always too irresistible to turn away; I opened the clue, and unfortunately, within seconds, recognized the path in which the clue was heading.<br /> <br /> Swiftly downloading a chart from the internet, I translated the code; and within fifteen minutes, I had unscrambled the anagrams that formed its core and knew for certain the exact starting location in Princeton would be at the <i>"Turning Basin Park."</i><br /> <br /> What, callously, I did next sealed my own fate, as well as the fates of my innocent fellow adventures on the <i>"William Penn Quest,</i> in Philadelphia. And once again, I do ask all who attended to forgive me.<br /> <br /> What I did was to send my answer back immediately, mentioning in my reply that, even though I was <i>"absolutely terrible"</i> at Anagrams, I had solved this clue in only fifteen minutes. Most of my time being taking up with the downloading of the chart I needed.<br /> <br /> Horror, upon horror, what a unforgivable thing to say to a parent! And then to add final insult to injury; within twenty minutes, I came up with my own Intermediate Starter Clue for the location, based on codes I had seen Ravenchase use in the past. I callously sent this <i>Changeling Child</i> of my own, back to the Jenner's for comparison.<br /> <br /> <i>( For those adventurers still reading, or even remotely, or vaguely interested a this point, my starter clue is posted on the "Puzzles Haunt" section of the Ravenchase boards. )</i><br /> <br /> For Robert Jenner, not only had I dismissed his first born brain child out of hand, but I had thrown down the gauntlet in the dust before him.<br /> <br /> How could such arrogance go unchallenged, unpunished. The <i>"Infamous"</i> Rassilon had to be taken down <i>a Peg or two</i>, at all cost. He had to be taught a lesson in Humility!!!<br /> <br /> There was only one thing to be done, Robert and his wife would have to invoke a power far greater then they themselves commanded. One, which they has secretly prayed in their souls they would never have to invoke, for such a power that could come at a heavy cost to them later.<br /> <br /> But, for the wounds that <i>"Infamous"</i> Rassilon had inflicted, no sacrifice was now too dear to pay. There was only a single thirst in both their souls now. A thirst for <i>Revenge!!! </i><br /> <br /> So, the Jenners pulled from their bookshelves various books containing astrological time tables, and in particular, those pertaining to the hours of the Moon. They needed an appointed hour of greatest alignment; when the dark forces they intended to contact, were to be at their height.<br /> <br /> Thus found, they waited. Waited until the deepest hour of the night. When the moon waxed heavily in their favor and the black powers would be exalted. An hour, when only sinister deeds, unwhispered of in the light of day, could be preformed.<br /> <br /> They lit candles, open their laptop, made appropriate sacrifices to their own dignity. And then, with a laying-on of hands, they typed in a Dark and Terrible Invocation to a far away Spirit.<br /> <br /> When the words of their invocation were finished, and carefully check, so that no fault in their true desires could be misinterpreted. Together the Jenners, with a single heart, and with a single hand, pressed the <i>"Enter Key," </i>sending forth their dark request for help into the <i>"Ether,"</i> and into the night..<br /> <br /> Their written supplication traveled outward into the darkness. Traveling beyond the hills and mountains, across rivers and valleys with the speed of lighting. It never even hesitated when it touched the sea. It leapt across the water, as if it born from the first to do so.<br /> <br /> What the Jenners had unleashed upon the universe that night, was now unstoppable. The message voyaged beyond, beyond, to a place where sky, sea, fire and mountain meet as one. It sought out the secret dwelling of a infinitely Dark Spirit. A Spirit, known to possessed the heart of the blackest Raven. The heart of a Trickster.<br /> <br /> A Trickster, who was first whispered of among the tribes of the North American Indian, almost before time itself began. A name still spoken with reverence among them today. But, only as being myth, something dreamt long ago. Yet at the same time, within their native hearts, they fear a greater truth. The truth that the Raven still walked among them in some foreign land; and may someday return to them. But such things are not often spoken of aloud.<br /> <br /> The Jenners dark invocation and summoning for help, had called out to this Trickster Spirit by another name. Their call reached out to the <i>"Great and Dark Kahuna."</i> of the far Islands. The creator of all things Ravenchase, Joshua Czarda. <br /> <br /> The Great Kahuna stirred at their summoning, and his eyes gleamed in the darkness, as he reached out and touched his monitoring screen. Within moments, he saw and took in all, and the mountains about him trembled in fear, for the dark spirit of his soul had laughed. And it was a terrible, merciless, laugh.<br /> <br /> The <i>"infamous"</i> Rassilon had now aroused the displeasure of the Great Kahuna as well, and he would reap bitterly the rewards for his carelessness actions. This interloper would be brought to task for his offences to the followers of, The Raven, and suffering would be his only allotment.<br /> <br /> The Great Kahuna stretch forth his hand and half a world away, the Jenner's printer awakened like a thing possessed; spitting forth black ink. Then it spat forth something even blacker. A curse. A terrifying curse, devised in the deepest darkest corners of the mind of the Great Kahuna himself.<br /> <br /> This Curse that came in the form of a clue. A Starter Clue; one that would make even the Jenners shudder in disbelief over what they had wrought upon the earth, in their hast and thirst for revenge. But, they now didn't know what else to do.<br /> <br /> They dare not send out anything less than this clue that lay before them. To do so might, might incur the anger and wrath of the Great Kahuna upon themselves. It was they who had invoked him. And once invoked… there was never any going back.. <i>The Great Kahuna's "Will" must be done. </i><br /> <br /> And so, as it was written… <b><i>It was Done!!! …</i></b><br /> <br /> The Starter Clue of the Great Kahuna was sent forth upon the land. And to all those both guilty, or innocent, who sought the Treasure of "William Penn's Pen." would have to suffer. And all, would be brought to share in same fate as the Interloper, Rassilon!<br /> <br /> <b><div align="center">*** A Note to Our Intrepid Reader***</div></b><br /> <br /> Thus far, all this sounds rather exciting, and very malevolent in it's darkness doesn't it??? A familiar tale at least worthy of the pen of August Derleth. --- Sadly, very little of it is true, because the <i>"actual truth"</i> was far more mundane.<br /> <br /> Rob and Kristine Jenner wanted a Starter Clue that would <b>"Stump"</b> me personally, and so they e-mailed, Josh Czarda, in Hawaii for help. In short …<!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><i><b>"They Ganged-up On Me!!!" </b></i><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><br /> <br /> Josh worked his Magic, and came up with a starter clue for Philadelphia almost entirely based on what I had mentioned in my e-mail, as being my greatest weakness in clue solving,<!--sizeo:3--> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><i><b>ANAGRAMS</b></i><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec-->.<br /> <br /> The Starter clue was, to put it mildly…. was <i>"A BEAR!"</i> In fact the whole subspecies known as <i>"Ursus Arrctos Middendorffi"</i> The largest land animal in North America, in both its size and scope. The clue incorporated the use of Numerical Substitutions, Greek Alphabet, Anagrams and something hidden far deeper within the puzzle itself.<br /> <br /> Two of my fellow adventures on the race, from Team <i>"Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess" <b>(No, really… that <u>"was"</u> their team's name)</b></i> confessed to me, that for the last two days prior to the hunt, none of their office work was getting done.<br /> <br /> Their obsession to crack this coded message, had displaced everything in their lives. They spent two entire days staring at their work assignments, but mentally thinking only of this clue. To the point, that they were running back and forth to each others cubical every other hour, hoping the one of them had found some crack in its makeup. Their team only solved it in the eleventh hour, and the eleventh minute, before the game started..<br /> <br /> For myself, the Number Substitution and the Greek were easy enough, but the Anagrams… <i>(yikes!!!)</i> I set to work with my favorite on-line Anagram solver at <i>WWW.Wordsmith.org /Anagrams</i>. The results were to say the least, eye-opening in their crudity alone.<br /> <br /> I don't know who to blame, the author of the puzzle, or the programmer at Wordsmith, but one of them either by accident, or design, is very preoccupied and excessively concern with dirty and suggestive words.<br /> <br /> The words, Boob, or Boobs cropped up at least fifteen times, or more, within the page. As did that [size=4]<b>"B"</b>[/size=4] word that rhymes so wonderfully with Witches, along side of words, like Porn, Buns, Toga, Bra, Brats, Barhop, Gunboat and Thumbscrews.<br /> <br /> The two most ominously sounding messages that appeared before my eyes, sounded like something placed there by, Josh Czarda, personally; just for me to find. <b><i>"BE REVENGED I…"</i></b> and a reference to my oldest Nemesis <b><i>"GREEN IVY…"</i></b> Twenty-two hours later, I woke with a splitting headache, from dreaming about the clue all night long, and I threw up my hands.<br /> <br /> Stumbling out of my bed, un-washed, un-shaven, I went to my computer and typed in a short e-mail to Kristine and Rob, and cried…<br /> </div> <span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:180%;" ><i><b>"UNCLE!!!"</b></i></span> <div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"><br /> <br /> <b><div align="center">*****</div></b><br /><b> <div align="center"> </div> </b><br /><b> <div align="center"> </div> </b><br /><b> <div align="center"> <u>THE HUNT BEGINS</u></div> </b><br /><b> <div align="center"> or</div> </b><br /><b> <div align="center"> <u>"With Six Clues… Do I get Egg Roll???"</u></div> </b><br /> <br /> Our gathering place for the teams was to be 2 PM at Penn's Landing down by the Philadelphia River front, next to a sign that showed the <i>"Ships of the Delaware." </i><br /><i> </i><br /> For myself, I arrived about forty minutes earlier to familiarized myself with the area again. The last time I was at Penn's Landing, was when I held a younger man's dream in my heart of becoming an actor. One of my first paying film jobs was down here at Penns Landing, working as an extra on the Brian De Palma film, "Blow Out."<br /> <br /> I never rose as an actor and remained forever poor, but I have a wealth of memories about Penns Landing. How many people can say they were personally knocked down six times by John Travolta, during the shooting of one scene, and kissed on both cheeks by Nancy Allen and her stand-in Deborah Everton. The kisses were in gratitude for the Roses I presented to each of them. Both of these Ladies remain close and dear to my heart to this day.<br /> <br /> The Rob and Kristine Jenner arrived at about a quarter of two. Rob in possession of the famous Ravenchase Treasure Chest, containing our clues for the day. Had them safely lock away, until the rest of the teams arrived.<br /> <br /> The weather that day was fantastic. Bright and clear, a high about seventy-six degrees. The air clean, was filled with sound of music from a local open air concert being given on the Landing that day. Kristine informed me that at least twelve people had signed up for the hunt that day, breaking down into four teams.<br /> <br /> The first of these teams to arrive, not counting myself, <b>Team Rassilon</b>, was <b>Team ClubEdventures.com</b>. Lead by Ed and his bevy of tattooed beauties, Abny, Alana and Jordan. --- I would love to say I have a fantastic memory for these women's names, but I only recalled their names, after seeing their picture posted on Ed's website.<br /> <br /> If I remember correctly, Ed said he worked for living at, The Franklin Institute Museum, and in his off hours ran local Rallies and Hunts similar to Ravenchase in their nature. <i>( I wondered suspiciously, if he was there to take notes that day? Ravenchase's fame was growing.)</i><br /> <br /> Next to arrive, and all in <i>"Pink,"</i> was <b>Team Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess.</b> This outing for the six men and women and was a personal birthday present for one of their members. That's why they all were wearing the matching pink T-shirts with the Teams name on them.<br /> <br /> <i>( Here I will admit to being a little more than jealous of this team. As my own friends, a "Thoroughly Rotten Lot," barely can manage wearing matching socks on any given day, and always completely ignore my own birthday.) </i><br /> <br /> The last Team to arrive, <b>Team RudyKip</b>, came literally in over our heads. They call the Jenners from the Benjamin Franklin Bridge above us, saying they could see us and that they were running behind. Asking us please, not start the race without them.<br /> <br /> If I recall the story correctly, the young man had driven up from Richmond, to play and he had to stop off along the way to pick up his girlfriend. But fifteen minutes later they stood by our sides, filling out the usual wavers and releases for their first born children and we were finally ready to begin the hunt!<br /> <br /> The race planned that day was a good one. If you are a true follower of the Ravenchase Forum, then you know from the boards that Kristine Jenner, since my last review, has decided to become, <i><b>"Evil." </b></i> It was that, or take up Knitting, Evil sounded more fun and less work.<br /> <br /> Kristine has been taking notes and suggestions from the creative talents of other Ravenchase Franchises around the country. Ordered several new Code books from Amazon.com, and carries by her side at all times, just for inspiration, an unabridged edition of the autobiography, of the <i>"Marquise de Sade."</i><br /> <br /> All these changes in her, culminating in the forcing of her husband, Robert, to take her to see the Broadway production of <i><b>"Wicked"</b></i> so many times; that she now has the entire musical score for the part of <b><i>Elphaba</i></b> memorized.<br /> <br /> The Philadelphia hunt was to prove she and Robert were well on their way to getting their desired wish, beginning with their first challenge. When the Ravenchase Treasure Chest opened, what came out of it was a surprising curiosity.<br /> <br /> We were not immediately handed our clue scrolls and maps. But instead, we were handed a single sheet tied up with a yellow ribbon, and a small cardboard box, that looked like the type you would find at a Chinese take-away for side order of <i>Moo-goo-gai-pan</i>. I briefly wondered, if with Six Clues… <i>do we get, Egg Roll???.</i><br /> <br /> Kristine and Rob smiled and looked wily at us in our confusion. We were told that we would have to earn our clue scrolls and maps. We were to answer what was on the sheet and solved the puzzle in the box. To do so, we would have to decipher the question and answer it in only three tries, or lose five minutes, for each wrong answer there after.<br /> <br /> My left eyebrow arched upward, as I open the box. For inside, there inside was a greater mystery. The box contained a four items. A brand new dollar bill. Two shinny Quarters and a Bright New Penny. Opening the attached sheet, I found a message entirely written in Maritime Signal Flags, and I leapt into action.<br /> <br /> Having arrive early that day, I had seen another public sign. One showing all the meanings of the Maritime Signal Flags. Unfortunately for me, I was not the only one that had taken note of this sign.<br /> <br /> <i><b>Team Happy Ferry Mushroom Princess</b></i>, or <b><i>Team HFMP</i></b> for short, had also spotted the sign, as they arrived from that direction. They were a half-step ahead of me in getting to the sign. So, I had to translate the code message while looking over a few shoulders, between two heads, under an elbow and between two "very" shapely female thighs, as their team crowded tightly around the board. But I did get my translation. What did the message say??? That, I am afraid, I am forbidden to tell you.<br /> <br /> Part of my <i>"Gentlemen's Agreement" </i>with Ravenchase Adventures, is that in order to write about them, I am allowed to give you all the flavor and fun of the hunt. But never actual reveal there true locations, nor too much details about the clues themselves. The locations might be use again someday for Corporate clients. Also Ravenchase lives for the befuddlement of their would-be copy cat organizations attempting to duplicate their hunts.<br /> <br /> What I can reveal, is that the message involved the brand new Dollar Bill found in the box and a question that was more of a <i>"Bar Bet"</i> than a puzzle.<br /> <br /> I am purposefully leaving this clue intact, for the simple reason that it is a <i>"Real Groaner"</i> when the answer was finally discovered, plus I suspect that Rob and Kristine shall, in their new capacity for <b><i>"Evil,"</i></b> wish to continue torturing future teams with this puzzle from here to Timbuktu .<br /> <br /> It took about ten minutes, and all of our three guesses, to get it, but at last we all had our clue scrolls and the race was truly on its way.<br /> <br /> <br /> <u><b style="font-style: italic;"><div align="center">The House of Stars </div></b><br /><br /></u>The intriguing thing about Ravenchase Adventures is, that despite of the fact the clues are numbered, you do not have to solve the clues in any straightforward pattern to win. Using the map, it can be an advantage sometimes to recognize all the clue locations that are tightly grouped together and attack them first.<br /> <br /> Reversely, it can also be an advantage to attack the clue furthest away, removing that single obstacle quickly. These were my thoughts, as I headed for what I will only describe to you, as the House of Stars.<br /> <br /> Philadelphia, has many historic offerings. Sometimes too many. But I recognized the House of Stars by its description alone and arrived ahead of the other teams by about twelve minutes. What I needed appeared to be inside of the building, but the clue sheet held one more clue in the form of a box code. Arrange six groups of scrambled letters into a new pattern and you could uncover what you were to do, or say, inside the building.<br /> <br /> Perhaps by instinct, or perhaps by shear blind luck, I arranged the letters in a pattern and on my first try, saw enough of the message to understand what I needed to do.<br /> <br /> I needed to obtain a souvenir coin at that location, at the exact cost of two quarters and one Penny. All that remained at the bottom of my Chinese Take-Away box. I almost laughed at it's devilish simplicity. I was off again in a shot with my token safely in my pocket I now only needed to find a very small house, where nobody lived anymore.<br /> <br /> </div> <b style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-style: italic;"><u>Time and Timelines Wait For No Man</u></b> <div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"><br /> <br /> Blocks away from the House of Stars, is a park. And apart of this park is a monument dedicated to one of Philadelphia's founding fathers. Or rather, just to where he lived at one point. For the monument was really nothing more than a very small replica of what historians believe his house once looked like. This was the house I sought. All twelve inches of it in bronze.<br /> <br /> I have to confess that in all the time I have lived in and around Philadelphia, I had know idea this park even existed, or was even there. I found the house via the Internet, more by accident, then design, the previous night as I was boning up for the hunt.<br /> <br /> I mentioned in my last report that I like to gage the minds of the people that build these hunts and compare their actions to other well known games. Such as, Josh Czarda, being a Chess player, Chris Dove and Lisa Duty, being Poker players and lastly, the Jenners being purveyors of misdirection in the oldest of games, the Shell Game.<br /> <br /> With this mind set, I can sometimes take educated guesses, as to what Historic features of the area might come into play during a hunt, based on the region surroundings of the Start Location. This Park and its exact address, happen to be apart of my notes and it was the only way I would have found it without outside help. You can never win a Ravenchase hunt by this method I employ, but it does lay excellent ground work.<br /> <br /> Once inside the park, the clue guided me to a timeline of Philadelphia's history. Somewhere in the timeline lay an answer to the clue and the <i>"Password"</i> I was to collect for the game. But, the <i>"Question"</i> to that <i>"Answer,"</i> lay buried in the clue page.<br /> <br /> Kristine was not only being Wicked & Clever, but she was being a bit Childish as well. She hide the question in an old fashion Word Search Game Square.<br /> <br /> The main reason, I should mention, I am so terrible at Anagrams, is for a single reason. <b>I-can-not-spell-to-save-my-life.</b> Throughout the greater part of my life, I have personally defeated every attempt to teach me proper spelling. Which only makes the strange quirkiness of my mind more intriguing in that, while I can not spell, I can fathom and crack most Cryptograms given enough time. ---- <i>Go figure???</i><br /> <br /> This particular Word Search was proving elusive to me. Many of the straight forward words I could find, even the ones on a diagonal. A number of words appeared to be set up as red herrings and useless to the whole of the puzzle. It would take me even longer to figure out that Kristine was again being particularly wicked and even cheating a bit, by reversing words and even creating words that broke and over leaped other words already discovered.<br /> <br /> Fifteen minutes later, I had most of the question, but I was missing the last two and most important words. I decided to think about it and return to the Timeline later, I made a few more notes. Time, again was not on my side and I needed to move on.<br /> <br /> <i>( <b>Note to myself: </b>-- Invest in a set of multi-color Hi-liter pens for the Indiana Jones Bag. Might prove helpful if any future word search games are discovered.)</i><br /> <br /> <br /><u style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> <div align="center"> Mommy, I see "Pink " People… </div> </u><br /> <br /> The House of Prometheus, or Clue #1, according to Robert Jenner's Treasure map, lay somewhere about five blocks away, as the Raven flies. I felt a good walk might reorganize my thoughts and perhaps give me new eyes which to see what I was missing within the Word Search. This trick worked well for me during the Lexington Hunt.<br /> <br /> When I arrived at Prometheus, I was confronted with a plethora of "Pink People." All of them with their little faces pressed against the glass windows of the building. It was <b><i>Team "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess"</i></b> who were once again a half-step ahead of me in arriving on the scene.<br /> <br /> If there were any unfortunate glitches during that entire day; it was to be found here. The Prometheus clue was a Polybius Square. We were all required to find a certain historical plaque within the building.<br /> <br /> From the plaque, we were to locate one paragraph to fill in the missing squares of our grid. The deciphering of the numeric code after that, should be a simple matter. What was not so simple, was the fact that the exhibit was closed, locked down and bolted that afternoon.<br /> <br /> In honesty, no blame can be attached to either Robert, or Kristine. All the guide books clearly state that the building should have been open to the public until 6 PM. So finding it locked at 2:45 PM on a Saturday afternoon was as unfortunate, as it was unexpected.<br /> Here in true sportsmanship among the Ravenchase Teams came into play. Pooling our ideas and resources, we put in a call to Kristine and told her of our dilemma. With every team locked out, Kristine ruled, that no penalties would be taken off for this clue, or the phone calls.<br /> <br /> Then with one of <b>Team HFMP</b>'s phones on speaker, Kristine read us all exactly what we needed from the Plaque, before calling all the rest of the teams with the same information. The "Pink" team was on the move again, and I was close on their heels for two reasons.<br /> <br /> One, I needed a quiet place to sit down and decipher the Prometheus Clue, as well as rework the rest of the Word Search Puzzle. And Two, I overheard <b>Team HFMS</b> saying, that they was off in search of the Bronze House clue. ---- As the Chinese wisely noted in one of their many ideograms… <b><i>"In Confusion, there is Opportunity!"</i></b> <br /> <br /> Having just come from that location, I offered to act as native porter and guide, showing them the way. My help was gratefully accepted. As we strolled along, the teams chatted about the hunt so far and I learned by their conversation that our teams were about evenly placed in the numbers of locations that they have visited and clues solved. So, the race was still open, as to who was in the lead.<br /> <br /> About two blocks from the Bronze House, we ran into yet another of our group, <b>Team ClubEdventures.com</b>. Ed and his bevy of beauties, apparently having just left the park appeared to be heading in the opposite direction for the House of the Stars.<br /> <br /> One disturbing note, that caught hold of my ears, was hearing Ed mention that they had <i>"accidentally"</i> found one of the hidden clue scrolls at one of the future location, and were now backtracking. This was disturbing news, since this definitely could mean his team was now in the lead.<br /> <br /> Arriving at Bronze House park, <b><i>Team "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess"</i></b> were a wonder in action to see, proving that <i>"Six Heads"</i> are better than one. As a team, they broke apart. Several attacked and read the Timeline, One, like me, sat down at a bench and worked on the Prometheus Clue. While others worked on the Word Search Clue.<br /> <br /> I filled in my Polybius Square and set to work on deciphering the Numeric Code, all the while keeping a sharp ear open on the group near by, for sounds of any words in the Words Search I had overlooked. <i>( Yes, this is what I meant by, "In Confusion, there is Opportunity!" … I was being both dastardly and sneaky. )</i><br /> <br /> The Polybius Square released its secret in about six minutes, and I discovered that backtracking was going to be the flavor of the day for everyone. I was to go next in search of one of the oldest sections of Philadelphia and another location I had no idea existed. I was to find <i>"The Courtyard Beneath The Stars."</i><br /> <br /> As I glanced up from my decoding, I noted that the men and women in "Pink," were all trying to slip quietly out of the Park. Not an easy task to do, when your entire team is dressed up like a Neon sign. I knew they had solved the Word Search puzzle and were now heading back in search of the Courtyard Beneath the Stars. I slipped into my own stealthy mode and followed.<br /> <br /> Just a stone's throw from the House of Prometheus was the Courtyard Beneath the Stars. But the Courtyard was not an easy find. First you had to travel down an alley, and partially obscuring the entrance were low overhung vines. It's a place that could be easily over looked. My own locating of the Courtyard came with a little help from a new and unexpected quarter; <b>Team RudyKip.</b><br /> <br /> During my search process, I stepped into an open doorway of a gift shop; only to find myself standing directly behind <b>Team RudyKip</b>. They were at that precise moment, quizzing the shop owner as to the location of any courtyards in the area. My serendipitous arrival was timed perfectly with the gentleman's reply.<br /> <br /> Barely had the man finished speaking, then I slipped from the doorway again and was gone. All before <b>Team RudyKip</b> had a chance to turn around and see who had been standing behind them. Being stealthy, sometimes has both its own virtues and its rewards.<br /> <br /> The Courtyard Beneath the Stars, draws its name from an ornamental feature of its walls. Iron Stars embedded into the stone work of the surrounding walls of the courtyard. The stars were used by builders in the past, to strengthen construction of the buildings. Our location clue stated that beneath two of these stars, a Gem was waiting for us to find. But Where??? The stars were everywhere and all the teams, except one, were converging on this spot.<br /> <br /> <b>Team HFMP</b> were wandering about the yard a bit lost, <b>Team RudyKip</b> was checking out a wooden box with a Star carved in it and I, for once, discovered that my oldest nemesis, Green Ivy, could at last be a friend to me.<br /> <br /> For behind a tree and hidden beneath the ivy, I found our clue scrolls. --- Taking two of the scrolls, I knew it was time to do a little <i>Horse Trading</i> with <b>Team HFMP</b>. They had something I wanted, I now had something they wanted.<br /> <br /> What we traded was clues, I asked for the last two words of the Word Search and in return they received the scroll. Some may view this as cheating, but I view it as simply <i>"Making Use Of All Available Resources…"</i> This is something not totally unheard of in Ravenchase Hunt circles.<br /> <br /> I suppose that <b>Team HFMP</b> considered it an excellent deal, since they may have thought I would be delayed by having to return to the Timeline in the park. But, I neglected to mention after the trade, was that the password asked for by the missing question, was already apart of my notes in my bag.<br /> <br /> <i>( <b>Note to Would-be-Adventures:</b> It also sometimes pays to write down random thoughts and information at clue locations. You never know when they will come in handy) </i><br /> <br /> Opening my own clue scroll, I saw that we were all heading towards the "Future" location that <b>Team ClubEdventures.com</b> had mentioned they had stumbled across, more by accident, then design. The race was now beginning to look grim. It meant that Ed and his bevy of beauties, were definitely in the lead.<br /> <br /> Before leaving the courtyard, I did perform one last service. I tapped <b>Team RudyKip</b> on the shoulder and pointed out the location of the hidden scrolls. --- <i>( I may be a bit dastardly and sneaky at times, but I am at least first and foremost, a great believer in a "Clean & Level" Playing Field. The balance in the Universe must be maintained. )</i><br /> <br /> <br /> <u><b><div align="center"><span style="font-style: italic;">To the Future …And beyond!</span> </div></b></u><br /> <br /> The <i>"Future"</i> location was Statue not too far from where we all began this race. The Bronze statue immortalized one of the first Landlords to hold official title in Philadelphia. Parts of the original contract he made, were inscribed upon the base of the statue. This was what all the teams now sought, as it was a basis of a substitution code.<br /> <br /> When I left the Courtyard Beneath the Stars, I made what I thought was a direct beeline for the Statue, only to arrive once again a half step behind <b>Team HFMP</b>. It was a classic case of, they took the Low Road and I took the High road, and they arrived in Scotland and the Statue before me. For a flock of Pink Flamingos, <b>Team "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess"</b> moves rather well together.<br /> <br /> <i>( <b>Mental Note to Self:</b> Next time, check the road map closer, for shortcuts..) </i><br /> <br /> <b>Team HFMP</b> were already hard at work copying down the passage, when I arrived at the base of the Statue. The instructions for the code seemed straight forward enough, when I wrote down the passage and started my translation. Soon the word <i>"Look"</i> appeared beneath my pencil but after that single word, the rest disintegrated into gibberish.<br /> <br /> Fearing I had made a mistake, I reworked the code and again after the first word appeared and the translation fell apart into nothing. Looking up from this problem, I saw that <b>Team RudyKip</b> was arriving on site and <b>Team HFMP</b> was slowly departing from the scene. Once again, proving that six heads are indeed better than one. Time had become a desperate commodity, and demanded of me desperate measures. It demanded a phone call to Kristine for clarification.<br /> <br /> All day, up to now, I was quite proud of myself, in that I had not needed to use my Cell Phone. This is one of my personal Bench marks for the marking a Perfect Hunt. The Hunt that day, aside from the locked exhibit, was near perfect in all its aspects and worthy of standing next to hunts created by the more experienced hands of Lisa Duty, Chris Dove and Josh Czarda. So it did fill me with a deep regret having to resort to using my cell phone that day.<br /> <br /> When Kristine answered, I explained my dilemma with the code and she explained my mistake. I had followed a <i>"little too Literally"</i> the instructions on how to use the passage. By removing a few extra recurring letters from the passage, the code broke freely. Within five minutes, barring a few mistakes on my part, I had the hiding place of the next clue scroll and my next destination.<br /> <br /> Packing up my bag again, I gave a glance towards Team RudyKip and realized that they were having the same problem I had had with the code. Following the clue's instructions too literally.<br /> <br /> I had already helped them at the courtyard before, pointing out the location of the clue scroll, but that was my way of balancing the universe, for the Faustian deal I had made with Team HFMP. I felt I was still in Team Rudykip's debt for snagging the location of the Courtyard literally from behind their unsuspecting backs.<br /> <br /> So, as a final act of kindness and to restore the Universe, I took a moment and passed along the information that Kristine had given me over the phone. As Oscar Wilde, was once said, <i>"When given the gift of Good Advice, The only thing to do is to pass it on "Immediately"… it is never of any use to oneself." </i><br /> <br /> I left <b>Team RudyKip</b> happily decoding, while I went in search of a Greek Tragedy and <b>Team "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess"</b> I was now seven minutes behind them, because of this fiasco with the Future code.<br /> <br /> <div style="text-align: center;"><b style="font-style: italic;"><u><>The Fates Intervene in the Greek Theater </u></b><br /></div> <br /> The final location lay directly ahead of me, still along the waterfront. The City of Philadelphia many years ago under went a beautification project down by Penns Landing.<br /> <br /> Using the wide meridians between the major highways, the City created a series of parks and green areas for the people to enjoy. The Project soften the appearance of waterfront, and turned what could have been just concrete and asphalt, into a lush garden areas that were now enjoyable to visit.<br /> <br /> Nestled among these areas of green, the City elected to build a series of tributes, testimonials and memorials to the courage of the Irish Emigrates, the Korean War, Christopher Columbus, Vietnam, along with the Public Art walk of Sculptures.<br /> <br /> History and Culture were all about us that day, and at least one of this locations related directly to our final clue scroll. A location that the clue referred to only as the Greek Theater.<br /> <br /> Using my Treasure map and my scroll together, I knew at once which of the monument areas I was to go to, and I picked up my walking pace. As I approached, I saw something that filled my heart with delight. A flock of Pink Flamingos were gathered off to my right searching one of the monuments.<br /> <br /> What had filled my heart with utter delight about this scene was, not only had I caught up with <b>Team "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess"</b>, but I had also regained my seven lost minutes. The <b>Team HFMP</b> was searching the wrong Monument. The correct one was still one block further ahead.<br /> <br /> Apparently, no one within their group had compared their clue to the clue map in the way I had done. The Fates had intervene on my behalf, and I still had a good chance to at least place in this race. As happy as I was, I was not overlooking Ed and his bevy of Beauties of "Team ClubEdventures.com." I was certain their team had to be somewhere ahead of me.<br /> <br /> Though I was first on the scene, <b>Team "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess"</b>, having spotted me passing them, were now close upon my heels, if not inside my shoes and socks. We all descended upon the Greek Theater in unison.<br /> <br /> According to the clue, amid flags unfurled, near a southern wall a number we sought lay beneath an engraved object.<br /> <br /> Reaching into my Indiana Jones Bag, I whipped-out my Trusty-Rusty Compass and check the Mall's relationship to the North and South coordinates, while <b>Team HFMP</b> simply broke up an scoured every wall.<br /> <br /> Locating the southern wall, I was a bit confused. Of Flags, there were plenty. Both above and below. But, there was no engraved object, as described by the clue scroll. I considered the idea that the southern wall had two standing sides to it. Following the footpath around to the other side. I again came face to face with <i>"Nothing."</i><br /> <br /> It is said, that many centuries ago, <b>Buda</b>, sat in silence before a blank wall. And when he arose, he had become enlightened to the ways of the Universe. Perhaps something of this same enlightenment came to me, for in that moment of pondering and staring at the empty wall, I became enlightened to the ways of Ravenchase.<br /> <br /> The engraved object I sought may not be a physical object. The word could also be interpreted as something incredibly simple. A person's last name. A name engraved upon the wall.<br /> <br /> Returning to the heart of the Greek Theater, I looked again with new eyes at the Southern wall and found the name . And there directly beneath it lay… nothing. --- Nothing at all. --- Only Mulch and plant life, which I search and dug among in hopes for a last single clue scroll. The fates had intervened again. This time against me.<br /> <br /> As I pondered this new found dilemma, I glanced up and saw <b>Team "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess"</b>, looking a bit knackered and tired, milling about on the eastern edge of the mall, with one of them apparently on the phone; presumably with Kristine discussing the problem. Returning my attentions to the wall, I continued to search the area in hopes of finding something I may have overlooked.<br /> <br /> <i><b>(Note to any would-be-adventurer and follower of Ravenchase: )</b> I will mention to you at this point, that there will come a time of desperation in every race. When instinct, primitive as it may be, will take over in place of Logic and Common Sense. --- It maybe to your advantage, or to your folly, to follow these gut instincts; but this was that moment for me.</i><br /> <br /> I still do not fully understand why I did, but when I looked up again from my search, and saw the <b>"HFMP" team</b> moving off slowly together, every instinct in my body told me to abandon my Logical search and follow them.<br /> <br /> What compelled me most was an old quote that sprang into my mind in that instance. One from the pen of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, in the time honored voice of Sherlock Holmes.<br /> <br /> </div> <i style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">"When you have eliminated the impossible,<br /> Whatever remains, however improbable,<br /> Must be the truth."</i> <div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"><br /> <br /><div style="text-align: center;"> The truth to my dilemma, seemed to lay in following <b>Team HFMP</b>.<br /></div> <br /> Slipping into my stealth mode again, I followed discreetly and at a distance, keeping an eye on them, as they crossed the major highway and reentered the waterfront area.<br /> <br /> As I walked along, I reexamined in my mind the final clue. I had found the final Location. I had found the engraved object and name. But, there was no number beneath it, as promised.<br /> <br /> The Number was obviously and logically related to a phone number. Ravenchase had in the past used public phones and numbers to call into answering machines, for clues, instructions, or final location. But what was the number I needed to call???<br /> <br /> Giving voice to these thoughts can sometimes inspire other thoughts. What this thought inspired, was a small inconsistency in the behavior of Kristine and Robert that day.<br /> <br /> I had unconsciously noted at the beginning of the race. There was only one <i>"call-in number"</i> that day. I had the sudden thought to question, <i style="font-weight: bold;">"WHY?"</i><br /> <br /> On my previous Ravenchase Hunt with, Robert and Kristine Jenner. They had each made a point of giving out both their phone numbers, in case one of their phones were tied up with another team and you had to get through. But, Today, only one phone was in service, Kristine's phone. <i>"Why? What was Roberts's phone being used for???" </i> I had another sudden inspiration and theory. <br /> <br /> Reaching the Dock, <b>Team "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess"</b> turned right and continued on, while I, instead of following, sat down on one of the park benches beneath the trees and began searching my <i>"Indiana Jones"</i> Bag.<br /> <br /> There just may be a way to test out my theory. Somewhere in my bag I still had a small note pad, which I had use on my previous adventure. It may still have had Roberts's Cell phone written done on it.<br /> <br /> Flipping through the pages, I found Kristine's number again; but Rob's phone number had been carelessly torn out, when I was typing up my notes of the last Hunt. My Theory being blown now; I dialed Kristine's number.<br /> <br /> When Kristine answered, just at the first sounds of my voice, I could almost hear her teeth grinding in aggravation. <i>"Two???" </i>phone calls from me during the race, and both within the same half hour. How could this be? What happen to the <i>"Infamous"</i> Rassilon???.<br /> <br /> Placating her, as best I could over the phone, I gave her the "Password," told her that I had the "Token" in hand, and then went on to described the final location and the exact spot in the Greek Theater, where the Number should have been hidden, but there was nothing there. This news did not fill Kristine's heart with joy.<br /> <br /> Calling me in, she gave me the location of the restaurant, and said she would <i>"Personally"</i> investigate the situation. The last time I had heard such a voice was from my four grade teacher, and I can tell you, <i>"there was no Joy in Mudville that Night!" </i><br /> <br /> Despite this set back, I do have to shower endless compliments on both Robert and Kristine for finding the Restaurant. It was an inspired choice.<br /> <br /> Our race that day had begun by the sign, <i>"The Ships of the Delaware."</i> The finish-line ended on a four masted Windjammer Sailing Ship and Restaurant called, the <i>"Moshulu"</i> (pronounced Mo-shoe'-loo) The Party was on her Afterdeck Bar called "BONGO" The Moshulu, was once made famous through the books of, Eric Newby.<br /> <br /> </div> <img style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/MOSUHULUlPic.jpg" class="linked-image" border="0" /> <div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"><br /> <br /> As I approached the gangplank, I saw my fellow travelers on this adventure smiling down upon me and applauding my arrival. A Ravenchase tradition for all arriving teams. A tradition I whole heartedly approve of, as in the spirit of Ravenchase there are never any losers, "Ever," in this game. You are always a winner, just for finishing.<br /> <br /> <b>Team ClubEdventures.com</b>. and his bevy of beauties had, as I suspected, been the first to arrive, the plethora of "Pink" hanging over the outer rails announced to me that <b>Team "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess"</b> were already aboard ship, and only minutes ahead of me, since they all were still in the process of ordering their first drinks.<br /> <br /> As I had been gathering myself off the bench in the Park, I noticed one straggler from <b>Team HFMP</b> heading down the walkway. Spotting me as well, the fellow picked up his pace and scurrying ahead to the ship before me. I had surmised by his pace, he had broken off from the main pack, on a personal quest for the restrooms. And, of course last, but not least, there were our hosts, Rob and Kristine Jenner waving down at me.<br /> <br /> We were all still waiting on the arrival of <b>Team RudyKip</b>, who, I felt certain, should only be just minutes behind me, though I had not seen them at the Greek Theater. At this point, Kristine left Rob in charge of our rowdy group, as she went off to confirm the problem I had mentioned with the final marker.<br /> <br /> After officially crossing the finish line and ordering my traditional large glass of white wine. An another Ravenchase tradition ensued; <i style="font-weight: bold;">WAR STORIES!!!</i><br /> <br /> The drinks flowed freely, as did the laughter and the tales of misadventures, as each team, with hands over their hearts, confessed their utter and total Brilliance during the day, as well as their most embarrassing moments of blatant mind numbing stupidity during the hunt.<br /> <br /> It was during one of these tales, that the phone rang and <b>Team RudyKip</b> called in saying that they too were lost at the last marker. If Rob Jenner had not vocally mentioned what the last marker looked like, the mystery of the last Marker might have never been solved.<br /> <br /> As he was describing it to our missing Team, one of the members of <b>Team "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess"</b> suddenly lifted up her hand holding the missing Marker in it. The marker had been in their possession, ever since they found it.<br /> <br /> In <b>Team HFMP</b> defence, their <i style="font-weight: bold;">"Buggering"</i> of the last marker was not done out of malice, or intent. There were a number of other markers in the Greek Theater that looked exactly alike. They had just falsely assumed, that they were like the clue scrolls, a Marker for each one of the teams. What they had not realized, was that only one of these Markers had the magic phone number taped on it.<br /> <br /> Five Minutes later, both Kristine and <b>Team Rudy Kip</b> arrived aboard the <i>"Moshulu" </i>to a hero's welcome and all past ills of the hunt were forgotten, or left to drown at the bottom of a drinking Glass. The Party and the story telling was all that mattered now.<br /> <br /> About twenty minutes later, after the much head scratching on the part of Robert and Kristine Jenner, the awards ceremony began.<br /> <br /> <b>First Place</b> and the <b>"Golden Well & Quill" Award</b>, justifiably went to <b>Team ClubEdventures.com</b>. and his bevy of tattooed beauties, Abny, Alana and Jordan.<br /> <br /> <b>Second Place</b> the <b>"Silver Leaf" Award</b> went to Team RudyKip. Though last to arrive, their Team had "Zero" Penalties and "Zero" Phone calls for the day. The adjustment for the missing Marker placed them ahead.<br /> <br /> <b>Third Place</b> the <b>"Keys to the City" Award</b>. A large set of Iron Keys on a key ring, went to <b>Team Rassilon</b>. With the one phone call penalty and the adjustment for the marker, I actually had tied with, <b>Team "Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess" </b>but the deciding factor came down again to one single point. --- Before the beginning of the race, I was the one that had solved The near impossible Starter Clue first and was awarded the Ten extra minutes for doing so. These ten minutes broke the tie.<br /> <br /> <u><b><div style="font-style: italic;" align="center">WHAT THE…???</div></b></u><br /> <br /> <br /> Now, I can imagine that at this moment, there is a lot of mass confusion out there. But what kind of storyteller would I be, if I did not save the <i style="font-weight: bold;">"coup de grâce"</i> until the last. Or hold back a detail, or two, for the sake of better story telling.<br /> <br /> Backing up to the beginning of all these events. You will recall I had just cried <b><i>"Uncle"</i></b> to Rob and Kristine via my e-mail that morning. After which, in disgust, I climbed in the shower in an attempt to make myself look semi-human before going off to work. That is when it happen.<br /> <br /> It is said, that the famous British Mystery writer, Agatha Christie, always claimed that her most delicious murders, or solutions to her most difficult story problems, always came to her while she was washing the dishes. For me, it is the shower.<br /> <br /> Something about the white noise of the water running in the shower, cleared my thoughts and the solution became obvious. I knew that two of the lines in the puzzle had far too many Consonants in it, and not enough Vowels, to be an Anagram. This meant it could only be that a Vigenere cipher was hidden in the very heart of the puzzle.<br /> <br /> I had, what I felt, were the key words necessary to decipher it, but the puzzle was not decoding no matter what variation, or arrangement of the words I was using. It was while I was in the shower, it finally came to me. There were not "Two" lines of code to translate but "four" lines of code. I had been working with only half the puzzle up to now.<br /> <br /> Still dripping from my shower, I stood there in my towel like Archimedes, typing in the other lines of the code into the online Vigenere Solver. I typed in the key word, crossed my fingers and pressed enter. <i><span style="font-weight: bold;">Eureka! </span> </i>The solution appeared before me.<br /> <br /> I immediately Emailed Rob and Kristine plus "Joshua Czarda" in Hawaii with the correct answer, only ten minutes after I had cried "Uncle" I had won. I had beaten the Black Curse Cipher of the Great Kahuna.<br /> <br /> There were two more awards given out that afternoon, but not to the teams. These awards occurred earlier in the day. The awards were personal gifts from me to, Kristine and Robert Jenner as a token of friendship and thanks for all they do to entertain petulant overgrown children like myself.<br /> <br /> I had originally planned to present these gifts to them at the party, but as we has so much time on our hands before the other teams arrive. I gave them to them at the beginning of the day.<br /> <br /> <i>(This was also a subtle, but decisive move on my part to lighten my Indiana Jones Bag,, so I would not have to carry the extra weight during the race. ) </i><br /> <br /> To Robert, I presented a "Gold" plated set of <b>"The Shell and Pea Game"</b> I found at a Magic shop. It was a remembrance of his very first Philadelphia Race, where in my review, I had compared Rob and his wife's style of game play to the ancient Shell Game.<br /> <br /> For Kristine, to help fulfill her desires to become ever more "Evil" in the Ravenchase Game. I presented to her with, at the on-line suggestion of Josh Czarda, a small "gold" embossed leather bound copy of Edgar Allen Poe's famous story of cryptography, <b>"The Gold Bug,"</b> A wonderful printing from the 1920's, which I had discovered in an antique shop. Both Kristine and Rob were touched and a bit tickled by my gifts.<br /> <br /> The other present I brought along to the party for the teams, that became very popular, was the full explanation chart showing of how the Starter clue worked. I have made several copies of the printout and all of these instantly vanished among the various teams, who were interesting in seeing what they had overlooked in their own solutions.<br /> <br /> On a whole it was a near perfect race that day. A Great Race, New Friends, A Terrific Party afterwards on board a sailing ship. You could not ask for better.<br /> <br /> With the setting of the sun over the <i>"Moshulu's"</i> outer rail, the party reluctantly began to break up around seven o'clock. Packing up my bag, and my prize, which I laughingly refer to as <i>"The Keys to the Loo"</i>, since that was what I was looking for when my award announcement came. I made my own farewells and caught the 7:40 train home.<br /> <br /> Arriving home, I did not wait for any requests from Ravenchase this time. I turned on my computer and sent in my early report card in to Josh Czarda, and Lisa Duty, before either of them had a chance to ask.. My report was simple, as it was clear. <b style="font-style: italic;">"A+ … The Jenners did you and Ravenchase proud that day!" </b><br /><b> </b><br /> <br /> Until the next Hunt....<br /> <br /> I remind, cryptically, whimsically, if not a bit strangely yours,<br /> <br /> <br /> </div> <img style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/InfamousRassilonSm.jpg" class="linked-image" border="0" /> <div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"><br /> <br /> <br /> <b>And to the winners, goes the soils ……</b><br /> <br /> First place winners Team ClubEdventures.com. Ed and his bevy of tattooed beauties, Abny, Alana and Jordan, all aboard the "Moshulu"<br /> <br /> </div> <img style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/2007_08_Finish.jpg" class="linked-image" border="0" /><br /></div>Rassilonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01721185481568744682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049559609067254814.post-7831015731269554072008-12-21T13:32:00.000-05:002008-12-21T14:00:13.812-05:00Ravenchase Christmas in New Hope<div align="center"> </div> <div align="center"><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/RavenchaseLogo2.gif" class="linked-image" border="0" /><br /> </div> <div align="center"> <br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:5--><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><b>The Enchanted Christmas Village Hunt</b><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:5--><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><b> In </b><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:5--><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><b> New Hope, Pa. </b><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo-->In Review by <!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo-->The <!--coloro:#ff0000--><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><!--/coloro--><i><b>"Infamous"</b> </i><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc-->Rassilon<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> Langdon read the message again and looked up at Fache.<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> "What the hell does this mean?"<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> Fache's eye shone white. "That, monsieur, is precisely<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> the question you are here to answer..."<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> Langdon couldn't tear his eyes from the glowing purple<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> text scrawled across the parquet floor. Jacques Sauniere's<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> final communication seemed as unlikely a departing message<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> as any Langdon could imagine.<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> The message read:<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><b>13-3-2-21-1-1-8-5</b><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><b> O, Draconian devil! </b><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><b> Oh, lame saint! </b><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> </span></div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i> </i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i> <!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <div align="center"><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro-->From: The Da Vinci Code <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> By Dan Brown<!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><i><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <div align="center"> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><br /></span></span></span></span> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> This passage seemed a particular good place to stop, as I marked my place in the novel with a torn slip of newspaper. Looking out the window of the train, my hour and a half journey had ended, as I had arrived in the village of Doylestown, Pa. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> According to the map, I was still 11.3 miles away from my final destination of New Hope, Pa. But, regrettably this was the closest any of the local trains would carry me. My last excursion would have to be by taxi to reach the village of New Hope. There, I was to meet a <i>"Draconian Devil"</i> of my own that day, or rather, more precisely, a pair of devils, <i>"New Jersey Devils,"</i> who have been know to take on the mortal forms of Robert and Kristine Jenner, the area Hunt Masters for Ravenchase North-East. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Comparably to the fictional, Robert Langdon, of the novel, that day I was going to spend the afternoon in my own real life version of the Da Vinci Code. Racing perhaps not around the city of <i>Paris, or Musee du Louvre,</i> but certainly in the boundaries of the town and noted artist haven, of New Hope, Pa. putting my brain and code breaking skills to the test. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Ravenchase Adventures was also there to see, if by their own Lode Stone, my metal might prove to be Gold, Silver, Bronze, or yet some other baser metal. The true test was to be a hunt for clues in a race entitled, <i>"The Enchanted Christmas Village Hunt." </i></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> I had been haunted all week by reports of the uncertainty of the weather. There were forecasts of rain; troubled further by personal visions that this hunt was going to be limited to a three horse race. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> I had myself, once again, signed up as a single contestant; having still not found anyone locally, who shares my strange passion for these challenging <i>Games of the Mind. </i></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><i> </i></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> I knew only for certain that only Team <i>"Dude, Run"</i> comprising of a wonderful husband and wife team Rich and Michelle, along with their code cracking <i>Wonder Daughter, </i>Courtney, were due to arrive that day. There was also the vague rumor that a few members of my old nemesis Team <i>"Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess" </i>had signed up as well. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Their team, once again planned to show up in their Pink Flamingo T-shirts. Though in this weather, I had little doubts their trademark shirts would be worn beneath their heavy coats, making them harder to identify along the trail. <i>(or, had this all been apart of their Evil plan all along, I wondered quietly???) </i></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> As I arrived in New Hope, the weather that day appeared to be the least of my concerns. After a week of rain, the sky was beautiful; partly sunny, high about forty-three degrees, without the slightest suggestion of rain in the forecast, until the late evening hours. New Hope looked beautiful in the daylight and the streets were alive and bustling with townspeople and tourists alike. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Letting my Taxi go near the center of town, I set my first course towards New Hope's Visitors Center, at the corner of Main and Mechanic Streets, in search of a local maps and brochures of the area. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Having never been to New Hope before, I sought any advantage upon my future competition in the hunt. And maps, as any Adventurer will tell you, are always critical. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> At this point in my journey, I allowed my mind and my thoughts to slip into what I refer to as <i>"Catalog Mode"</i> looking at my surroundings, not with the eyes of a clue seeker, but with the imagined eyes of my main adversaries, <i>"The Ravenchase Hunt Masters."</i> I was looking for things that they themselves might easily see as possible places within the town to use in connection with their ciphers, or as hiding places for their clues. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> As I stroll up to the Visitor's Center, I took note of its ornate Victorian clock, the historical plaques attached to the side of the building, mentioning that the building had once been the original town hall. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Clues could be everywhere, you see. Even the bricks beneath my feet, inscribed with the names of local contributors to the rebuilding fund, could easily be used as clues. Remembering all too well, that during the Treasure Hunter's Lexington, Virginia hunt, bricks such as these were used by Ravenchase to devise a devilishly clever code. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Pushing these thoughts aside, I open the door of the Visitor's Center and was almost immediately greeted by a very good-humored woman named, Stephanie. Stephanie's eyes caught hold of my famous<i> Indiana Jones Bag,</i> with its Ravenchase markings, and asked if I was apart of the hunt, or one of the hunters?</span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> <i>"Hunter,"</i> I replied, thinking to myself, that either Ravenchase had laid the ground work in the town very well, or that it was really true in what they say... <i>"There are never any secrets in a small town… At least not for long..." </i></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Pleasantly, I asked Stephanie for her aid in selecting a few local maps. Ones I had read about during my internet studies of the town. A few minutes later, I left with three new maps tucked in my bag, intent only on continuing my tour of the town. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> As I reentered the courtyard of the Visitors Center, I noticed a sort of iron trellis standing behind an ornate tiled bench. Something about its simple symmetry pleased my eye and reminded me that in my bag, I had brought along my new digital camera to take pictures of the event today. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> The trellis seemed a perfect opportunity to test the new camera's capabilities before the beginning of the race. Knowing full well once the race begins, most people forget they even possess a camera, much less take the time, or trouble, to snap pictures between clues and code solving.</span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Backing up about ten feet, I framed and took my first shot. Seeing that there was a brass plate describing its history attached to the Trellis, I approached it and set up for a close-up of the plaque. And that's when it happen... the universe around me changed.</span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> The very air around me filled with the dulcid tones of an angel. A woman's voice. Speaking softly to me and to me alone. The voice gently cooed out two simple words, but two words were enough. <i>"Hello, Rassilon, " the voice said. </i></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Everything I was thinking and everything I was doing was forgotten. I looked up and saw a vision in feminine form standing alone upon the top step, about to enter the Visitor's Center. A flaxen-haired beauty, wearing a soft knitted woolen cap and a light blue down jacket; the color of which, only seemed to set off the already iridescent color of her own blue eyes. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> These were eyes that any man could readily find himself getting lost in. Her lips, bemused, softly parted, possessed a smile that spoke volumes by themselves, and yet still seemingly guarded a far greater secret behind them. It was a gentle warm smile; one that only Da Vinci him self could have painted in that moment. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Though her hands remained in her pockets, guarded against the cold, the arch of her back and the slight natural twisting of her hips, as she stood there waiting; gave her body an impish, coquettish look, as she examined me patiently, almost playfully across her right shoulder. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Her glance was both inviting and enigmatic in it nature. As though her eyes and her smile both challenged me to remember just where, and when, we had last met. If indeed we had ever met before at all. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Did she truly know me??? Or, had I been identified yet again by my satchel alone? It was a madding dilemma in its nature for me. With the right words, I might be elevated in her estimation. But, with the wrong words, I could fall. I stood on the edge of a precipice with this beautiful woman. She was enchanting, and I was the enchanted. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Women have often spoken freely of the power that Men have over their hearts, but as any <i>"Honest"</i> man will confess, our strength of Will, Masculine charm and Viral weapons are but Straw, against the simple power of a woman's eyes, and the enigmatic charm of her smile. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Something about them defeats us utterly. And in this moment, despite being a man of professed intelligence, words and letters, capable of quoting Shakespeare and great poets alike, my mind emptied itself and I felt like a bumbling fool before this woman. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> There were a thousand words I wanted to say to this vision of beauty. And since that moment, a hundred thousand more have sprung to life. But, in that single splintered fragment of time, I lost all reason. The best I could untangled from my tongue was to simply say, <i>"Hello, to you as well."</i></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><i> </i></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><i> </i> The woman smiled, and almost laughed at me, as she turned and opened the door of the Visitor's Center. And then she was gone. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Thirty seconds later, my brain-stems miraculously, reattached themselves to my spinal column and I was able to think clearly again. I pondered briefly the idea of dropping everything and following the women into the Visitor's Center and asking her to Marry me. But, upon reflection, I thought that even in today's society, this might appear exceedingly forward of me. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Instead, I simply sighed heavily from my heart and walked on. Carrying with me the haunting beauty of her eyes, and the future hope that fate would again offer another chance encounter. If only long enough for me to learn her name. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> Checking my watch, I have roughly under an hour before the hunt was to begin. I still had plenty of time to wander about at will. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> <!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--> <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> </div> <!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><b><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--></span></span></span></b></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><b><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> The Race Begins <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></b></span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> <b> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--> (Or, a sweet beginning...) <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></b><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--> <br /></div> <!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><b><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--> <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></b><br /> <!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">An hour later with my book again in hand, I was seated on a park bench at the end of Ferry Street, admiring both the river view and the flight of large ravens soaring over my head. I took their presence as a good omen for the race. This exact starter location was disclosed two days earlier in a clue, hidden beneath the lyrics of the Yule time song, <i>"The Twelve Days of Christmas." </i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I was still uncertain how many people were set to attend, as I was apparently the first to arrive at the starting point. In my travels about the town, I had run into only the <i>"Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess Team,"</i> near the Eiffel Tower. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Yes, surprisingly enough, New Hope may not be a suburb of Paris, the City of Lights, but it does possess its own Eiffel Tower. Albeit only in miniature. It stands outside of the <i>Cest La Vie Cafe</i>, just off of Main Street. After my earlier thoughts about the differences between the Dan Brown Novel and this race, I was fast discovering amusing similarities to the book like this copy of the Eiffel Tower. But the similarities would not end just here. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I had found the <i>HFMP</i> Team gathered just outside the French cafe, on their way to stock up on hot chocolate and coffee before the race. Among them was my fair haired enchantress in blue from the Visitors Center. One major mystery of my day was at least partially solved, though I still had not discovered her name. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Tucking my novel back into my bag, as the appointed hour drew near. One by one, the contestants began appeared on the scene. They would keep coming, until, by a later head count, a total of fifty-six people showed up. Including reporters from the local <i>New Hope Gazette</i>, to cover the event. The fifty-six would eventually break down into nineteen separate teams. I was impressed by the gathering on such a crisp cold day. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Up until now, the Philadelphia branch of Ravenchase has had a very poor showing for these events. Disappointing for the fifth-largest city in the United States. I suppose in future, I should be careful for what I wish for. I now had more than enough teams on my hands to try and beat that day. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Robert and Kristine Jenner arrived at our staging arena wearing a Santa Claus Hat and carrying the famous Ravenchase Treasure Chest, containing all our clues for that day. The signing of wavers, as you might expect, took longer than usual. During this process I was introduced, by Kristine Jenner, to a charming blonde haired woman and asked a special favor. As a noted veteran of the game, I was asked if I would be kind enough to take on a partner for today's hunt. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Her name was, Marilyn Bullock, an enterprising woman who owns and operates <i>Bullock Marketing & Design</i>, in New Hope. Apparently, the two friends that were to run the race with her had mysteriously vanished on her, leaving her high and dry and in want of a partner. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">My mind harkened back to the novel I had been reading, and yet another parallel appeared. Like the hero of the novel, Robert Langdon, I was to be gifted with a mysterious ally. Marilyn was to be my own, Princess Sophie, for the day. An invaluable woman, as I was to discover, during the course of the day.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">In her nervousness, Marilyn confessed to me that even though she was a Web Designer by trade and knew HTML code both backwards and forwards, she had never cracked a cipher in her life. The daily crossword puzzle was about the height of her abilities. She was there that day to check out the race and Ravenchase Adventures, for a possible fund raiser next spring for New Hope. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Marilyn had read about the success of the fund raising event Ravenchase created for <i>"Quest for the Ring Hunt"</i> with the Indianapolis Colts. It was her hope that the same sort of fund raiser could be, just the ticket, to inspire interest and a large turn out in New Hope. I promised her that Ravenchase Adventures could provide the ride of her life. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">After a brief explanation of the rules by Robert Jenner, his wife, Kristine, opened the Ravenchase Treasure Chest and handed out our first puzzle of the day. The Puzzle came in the form of two candy canes and a long strip of paper with symbols on it. None of us would be given our official clue scrolls, until we had solved the puzzle and whispered the secret <i>"Password"</i> into her ear. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> Marilyn's face dropped, as she looked at the puzzle, but I chuckled and winked assuringly at her. Even though I had never encountered one before, I recognized what the puzzle was. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">It was a <i>Scytale</i> <i>( skee-ta-lee)</i> I explained to her, that this was perhaps one of the oldest form of passing codes on the face of the planet. Dating back to the 7th century B.C., history records that the Greeks, Romans, and even the Spartans, used this method to pass along their important secrets. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Marilyn watched, as I carefully wound the strip of paper with it strange marking around one the candy canes. Almost magically the strange markings began to align. Marilyn's eyes brighten as the words <i>"The password is Edgar Allen Poe"</i> appeared before her. We were the first to solve the puzzle and the first to receive our clue scrolls for the day. I knew the ravens soaring over our heads would be a good omen. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> Grabbing our clue scrolls, which Kristine Jenner had wrapped up like a <i>Christmas Cracker</i>, we headed off for a more secluded spot to carefully unwrapped them and see what we had been presented with. I saved everything including the Christmas wrapping in case another yet clue was hidden in the tissue itself. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> The Clue #1 was a bit of a stumper. Images of Snowflakes and several lines of code. Instinctually, I felt I should know this code; but something about it was out of kilter. That something banged away at the back of my mind, but the thought prove elusive. My partner, Marilyn, saw the worry in my face, and so I turned to the second clue. Within the first two lines of the poem, we both know were we were to go. Marilyn, and I had to catch a train, Fast!</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> I mention in the beginning of this report that New Hope had no train service. This is both true and false. While there was no local train service to New Hope; the town of New Hope does actually possess a train. A rather famous one in fact. In the winter time The New Hope & Ivyland Railroad runs the <i>"North Pole Express."</i> </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Running on a closed circuit of track, the train leaves the station house three times daily, taking passengers on a forty-five minute excursion around the surrounding country side. Our clue had only four blank squares to fill in and it was apparent from the clue what we require were numbers from one particular section of this train. Anyone, that ever owned a Lionel Train set as a child, knows that every section of a train has its own individual number. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Marilyn's value to me now came to light. She was far better than any of the three maps I had stowed away in my bag. Marilyn, being a resident of the town, was both my living map and my native guide rolled into one. We hurried off in search of the train station, keeping a sharp eye out for other teams, which seemed now to be everywhere and on every street corner.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">As we reached the train station, my cell phone rang and a text message came in from Ravenchase. It announced, that the Express would be departing the station at 1:00 , 2:00 and 3:00 Pm. Checking my watch it was 1:15 Pm. We had missed the train and the station train tracks stood empty before us. It could be over half an hour before the train's return.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Not wishing to be defeated so easily, Marilyn and I looked around and decided to enter the Station House's gift shop. All in hopes of finding photographs of the train on display, where we might be able to steal numbers we needed to complete this task. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Don't ask me how, but there were three other teams inside the building. already hard at work. All of them were standing with sharpen pencils posed, mesmerized by images on a small television set in the back of the store. The video playing was a commemorative tape of the famous train. Marilyn wanted to join them, but I had a better idea. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Standing off in another corner were two of the Train's Station Masters. Who better to know all the secrets of the Santa Express, I thought. And after a quiet whispered word to both these men, Marilyn eyes lit up with admiration, as we quietly slipped from the building with the very numbers we needed. All as the other teams were still posed around the television set, unaware of our progress . </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> </div> </div> <div style="text-align: center;"><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><b>While I pondered Weak and Weary...</b><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--></span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"></span></div> <span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> <!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I would like to say that I was totally brilliant like this all that day, but I did have my moments of blundering stupidity as well. The next clue, Clue Number #3 - Part One, was an example of one of these less than brilliant moments. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">After leaving the Train Station, Marilyn and I open our clue map and compared it to clue number three. The clue spoke of a golden Magician, Salvador Dali, Pallas <i>(the Greek goddess of wisdom)</i> and dogs with unfurled wings. Art, seemed the only golden thread that bound all these words together. Robert Jenner's map was profusely illustrated with art work of his own, and one of the images bore the title, <i>Gallery Piquel.</i> </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Here I shall mention to all <i>"would-be-adventures"</i> everywhere, that while holding a map correctly, can elevate you in this game; holding the map the wrong way, can also send you down the proverbial garden path in wrong direction. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">At that particular moment in history, the way I was holding the map, later proved to be <i>"sideways."</i> This simple mistake, made me think the Gallery we were searching for, was located just behind the Train Station, not below it. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">It was an understandable mistake to make, considering that what was behind the Train station was the renowned, Mitchner Art Museum. I had assumed that the Piquel Gallery was either a wing, or an exhibit, within the museum itself.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I will not dwell for long on the events that transpired at the Art Museum, other than to say that the Guards and the Hostess of the Mitchner Museum, were not only <i>"very"</i> amused by our probing questions, but also very <i>"intrigue"</i> by the whole concept of the hunt. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">They especially <i>"delighted"</i> in my recitation of the poem, as I read it aloud to them for their entertainment and enlightenment, but not one of them had heard of, The Gallery Piquel. It was Marilyn, my own Princess Sophie, who came to my rescue and set us back on the right track. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">The wonderful thing about living in a small town is, everyone knows everyone, or at least someone that <i>"does"</i> know everyone. One phone call from Marilyn to a friend, and we were on the right path again. <i>The Gallery Piquel</i>, was a relatively new addition to New Hope located down on North Main Street. We were off, and on the scent of our quarry again. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Sadly, the minutes we has won at railroad station, were now lost due to my side trip to the Mitchner. When we arrived at the Gallery Piquel, the place was packed with other teams all trying to fathom the mystery that lay inside. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Another parallel to <i>The Da Vinci Code</i> again presented itself at this location. It was not the <i>Musee du Louvre</i>, nor the <i>la Grande Galerie.</i> Nor were there any dead curators, lain out on the parquet floor, in mock representation of the Da Vinci's <i>Vitruvian Man.</i> But, like the book, there was a clue and greater mystery hidden among the art work on display. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">The first puzzle presented itself, just by our walking through the door. The Curator, a very attractive and very much living woman named, Tamara Cannon, greeted us as we entered the door. Looking up brightly from her carved wood desk, Tamara stared at me and said, <i>"Oh, you must be Rassilon!" </i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Now to be expected as a guest is one thing, but to be named as you walk through a door you've never walked through is another. Even Marilyn shot me a quizzical look that seemed to whisper, <i>"What's up with this??? How could she possibly know who you were?"</i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Being famous, or even <i>"Infamous,"</i> does have its small burden of notoriety. But, even I was reasonably certain that when I left home that morning, I did not have my name emblazoned across my forehead. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Tamara, thankfully, confessed to me later that this was a little joke on the part of Kristine Jenner. Kristine had called her earlier and alerted her what to look for; namely my black satchel with the Ravenchase Logo on it. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Tamara explained to us that she had been doubly sworn to secrecy, and we must follow the clues for ourselves, bringing her the exact passwords. Only then could she help us further in our quest. This being said, this left Marilyn and I to explore the gallery, keeping one eye on the clue page and another on the teams already there. The poem was a verbal road map of the Gallery. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Marilyn and I wandered among the fantastical bronzed sculptured works of Benjamin Levy, the pastoral paintings of Lisa Joyce-Hill, the flights of fancy by Ann Krasner. Past bronze Magicians, winged dogs, and a Yule time tree; all leading us to a smaller side room and the whimsical works of, Kathleen Stoltzfus. It was somewhere among her works, that the key to our mystery lay. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Other teams were already there, and it was not hard to see the object of their attention. On a fireplace mantel piece stood a small wooden house made of mixed media, acrylic paint, wire, paper and other found objects. Perched atop of it was a very familiar icon; a Raven. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Kathleen Stoltzfus artwork is marked by her use of birds, but this piece had a extra touch of whimsy about it. In minute swirling hand writing, Stoltzfus had transcribed nearly the entire poem of <i>"The Raven"</i> by Edgar Allen Poe. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Suddenly parts of the puzzle were coming together. The Hunt's beginning password and the word, Pallas, hidden within the clue's poem. Both were hints to this clue. Poe, was the author, and Pallas was the statue that The Raven perched itself upon in the poem. The benefits of my classical education were paying off. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Somewhere on this piece of artwork were the passwords we needed. Then according to the clue, we were to repeat them thrice to, Tamara Cannon, in order get our next clue. The only problem remaining, lay in getting close enough to the art piece to read it. At least a dozen people stood between us and the statue on the mantle. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Seven frustrating minutes later, we slowly edged ourselves upwards, until I was in arms length of the piece, but still I was unable to read the lettering on the statue. Kathleen Stoltzfus's handwriting was far too delicate. One team was laboriously copying out the entire poem. I, amusingly, had visions of Tamara sitting behind her desk, listening to endless recitals of the poem all day long. The solution had to be far simpler than that. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">A small hole opened, and Marilyn and I moved forward, but suddenly out of no where she was there again; <i>The Enchantress.</i> My <i>Femme Fatal</i> from the Visitor's Center. Her hair golden, shimmered before me, scented with the floral fragrance of the shampoo she had used that morning. Unaware I even stood behind her, she examined the piece on the mantle, tilting her head provocatively, and effectively blocking my view. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I sought to move to her left and slip past her, but her hips swayed with my movements and unconsciously covered my advance. I shifted to the right and again, instinctively, her form shifted with my own. Her movements in perfect sync with my own body, as we waltzed gently back and forth together. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I was torn in my thoughts at that moment. On one hand I dreamt only of taking this enchantress into my arms, and guiding her onto a dance floor somewhere; where with such perfect rhythm to my own, I envisioned dancing closely with her in my arms to some golden oldie. Swaying gently until the last straining note of music ended with a kiss, and the future promise of romance in the darkening hours of the night. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">And in direct opposition to these romantic stirrings of my heart, I thought simply of sweeping her form up in my arms now, carrying her swiftly away to some secluded spot with in the gallery, and rudely depositing her on some vacant spot of floor, so that I might, at last, finally get a chance to examine the small statue in detail. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I quickly nixed this second inspiration, as I sincerely doubted that this less than Gallant action would ever win the heart of my fair Enchantress. Much less inspire her to impart her real name, phone number, or even an e-mail to me. But fortunately for both of us, a third idea did occur to me.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Reaching to my Indiana Jones bag, I produced my small flashlight and began illuminating small sections of the statue. About a minute later, Marilyn grabbed my arm and pointed out something to me. There on the front of the piece, on the lower corner was a small piece of paper the artist had decoupage on to the statue. It was torn from dictionary and contained exactly three variations of a word. Marilyn and I looked at each other and fled. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">At the front, Tamara Cannon, was waiting for us. I looked at her with a smile and said, <i>"Quote the Raven..." </i> giving her the three words from the dictionary. Tamara laughed and said, <i>"Yes! We have a Winner!"</i> Reaching into a cabinet next to her desk, she removed a scroll tied with a ribbon and ceremoniously presented it to us on a bronze serving tray. A serving tray shaped like a, <i>Flying Monkey</i>. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I was openly amused by the tray when I saw it, because it immediately reminded me of Kristine and Robert Jenner. In my past posts I have lampooned, Kristine for her personal quest to become more <i>"Evil"</i> in these games; jokingly reporting that she had already personally memorized the entire musical score to <i>"Wicked"</i> and here at last were the <i>Flying Monkeys</i> to proved her personal success in her quest for evil</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Taking the scroll from the tray, we thanked Tamara for all her kindness and exited the building. Outside, we open the scroll we had been given, only to discover it was not a clue, but rather a biography page about the artist who created The Raven sculpture, Kathleen Stoltzfus. Marilyn once again looked worried and grim, but I assured her I knew what this was and turn over clue #3 to show her the back half of the page. Covering the page were groups of numbers that at best looked like representations of dates. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">This is an Ottendorf Cipher, I explained, dating back to American revolution, George Washington and a German Mercenary named, Major Nicholas Dietrich, Baron de Ottendorf, who invented this code. The weight of all this information did nothing to enlighten, Marilyn, or ease her concerns. She was still lost. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I asked Marilyn if she had ever seen the movie, <i>National Treasure</i>, with Nicolas Cage. She said, <i>"of course"</i> This was the same code that they found hidden in invisible ink on the back of the Declaration of Independence. But, instead of us having to find the <i>"Silence Dogood"</i> letters to translate it, we had the biography scroll from the gallery.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">The Cipher uses three-positional digits tell the location of individual letters contained within a key document; a book, a newspaper, or in Ravenchase's case the biography page from the gallery --- The Numbers 10-11-8 would refer to the 10th Line, 11th word in that line and lastly the 8th letter in that word, which would be the letter "T."</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Marilyn excused herself at this point to run across to a restaurant to use their facilities, while I remained behind on a comfortable porch step to begin my translation of the Ottendorf cipher. When she returned about five minutes later, feeling far more content with the world, I was about half way done. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><b><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--> <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--></span></span></span></b></span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><b><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> T - h - e - V - i - s - i - o -</span> <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></b><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--> </div> <!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><b><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto-->10-11-8 10-4-7 9-2-2 14-8-2 18-7-4 13-10-4 1-5-1 5-8-1<!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><!--/fonto--> - n - t - o - s - e - e - ....<!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> </span><br /><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> </b><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--> <!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><b> 5-3-5 5-21-6 2-18-4 10-14-4 11-8-2 11-6-6</b> <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Sorry, my bad... I couldn't resist... My gentlemen's agreement with Ravenchase Adventures is such that I may never reveal too much of their in-house secrets. Starter locations, unrelated to the hunt, I can discuss. The art of code solving, is viewed as public knowledge, but some of the actual hunts locations are forbidden, as they may be reused at a later date. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">What the Ottendorf cipher revealed to us, must remain a secret, but it took Marilyn and I to a secret location and the discovery of a hidden Ravenchase Treasure Chest. A locked chest with two combination locks securing its secrets inside. This was where all the other clues would eventually culminate. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">As I stood watch, pretending to be lost and consulting my map, Marilyn below me tried the first number we had discovered along the path. One of the locks snapped open. Marilyn was as giddy as a school girl and her smile and excitement returned to her eyes. We appeared to be first on the scene and we had half the solution to the locked box problem. Now we only had to discover the second number. Relocking the box, and returning it to its hiding place, Marilyn and I speed off in search of clue number #4. The Parlor Clue. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Among the many historical buildings of New Hope, we were intended to visit that day. One had a parlor and possessed a very fine piano. It was our task to uncover some mystery regarding that piano. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">A simple task. Find a word. Fill in the numbered blanks at the bottom of the page, then move on to the next clue. But the poetic words of the clue, also spoke of a kitchen hearth as well, and this is where the confusion grew. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">To <i>would-be-adventures</i> everywhere, I would caution you to be on your guard. On guard for the simple clues, as well as the mind numbing complicated ones. Treat each type with equal respect. Our clue was so simple and so easy, I think Marilyn and I both could not force ourselves to believe that anything could be this simple. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">As a result, we wandered around the building far longer than we needed to, or intended to. It may sound ridiculous, but together we wasted an extra six minutes after we had the solution firmly in our possession. We had become victims of one of Robert Jenner's renowned shell game clues. We found the pea under the first shell, but did not leave until we had looked under all the wrong shells as well.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><b> </b></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><b> <div align="center">Time Clocks, Silly Walks and Locked Locks, Wait for No one!</div> </b><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Clue Number #5 involved time, both historical and actual. The clue's poetry spoke of the history of the town and of father time bedecked with ribbon and bow. I didn't have to look far, or to my Ravenchase map for this clue. The catalog within my mind snapped open and I knew exactly where we had to go in the town. We were after one of the very first objects that I took note of, when I arrived New Hope; the Victorian clock outside of the Visitors Center.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Marilyn and I made the journey in less than five minutes from our last location and set to work examining the clock in great detail. The code we were presented with in this clue was a Rotational Cipher. A code based on the shifting of a clear text message by a set group of numbers either forward, or backwards. For example, the word <b>CLOCK</b> with the code Key of : <b>123</b>, becomes <b>"DNRDM"</b> The <b>"C"</b> is shifted one over, <b>"L"</b> Shifted two, <b>"O"</b> shifted three, and so on, repeating until the message was fully encoded. To decode you need only reverse the process. But, it is necessary to have the correct Key number in order to decipher the message. With the possibility of an infinite number of numbers to choose from; the correct number, was Key! </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">At the base of the clock, Marilyn and I discovered a small plaque possessing with not one date, but four separate dates. Any one of them, or even all of them could be our key number. There were four lines of code and four dates. There was nothing for it, but to write them all down and brain out this puzzle. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Just as Marilyn were deciding on which park bench to settle in on and occupy, my phone rang again and for a worrisome moment, I thought it was a message from Ravenchase saying we had lost horribly and to please come in. But, instead it was a message from Kristine saying, <i>"The Historical Museum is closed, so here is the answer..."</i> the answer was four small numbers. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Both Marilyn and I both knew what the importance of these numbers were. They could only be the last set of numbers needed to open the Locked Chest we had found earlier. Later, I was to find out at the restaurant, that some <i>"nameless"</i> person had had left a little joke of his own at the museum and a number of the teams came away with the wrong number. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Abandoning our present project, Marilyn and I decided to throw caution to the wind and to return to the Locked Chest to discover what was inside. We had all four numbers from the Victorian Clock already. So, we felt we could decipher this clue at the Chest location, just as well as any park bench found here at the Visitor's Center. We were off in a flash. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Hurrying down Main street, past the Bucks Country Play House, we past another team at a good clip crossing the bridge, heading in the same direction as we were. Thus far, I had not yet seen any of the more recognizable teams like, <i>Team Dude Run</i>, or the <i>Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess.</i> I only recognized this team, by the clue sheets clutched in their hands. Half way across the bridge, the couple passed us. When the sidewalk widen, Marilyn and I looked at each other and picked up the pace and passed the couple again. Thirty seconds later two blurs passed us again. This back and forth passing went on for the next three blocks, until I was afraid Monty Python's Ministry of Silly Walks, was going to arrest us both, for <i>"silly walking" </i>with-out a license. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Seeing an opening in the traffic pattern, I grabbed Marilyn's arm and we sped off sideways, crossing the street to be on the right side of the road for the Locked Chest. I hoped that the other team might find themselves trapped on the other side by the traffic, giving us a minute, or two, edge on them reaching the Lock Chest first. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Glancing back, both Marilyn and I couldn't resist a smile, when we realized that the other couple was not following us after all. Or even heading for where we were. At the last moment, they both turned into the <i>Gallery Piquel</i>. We had been racing against two people that hadn't the slightest idea where the hidden chest was yet. Speaking for myself, I felt deliciously sneaky at that moment. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Arriving at the secret chest location, the area was empty and devoid of any other teams. I took up my position, as guard and watchman, as Marilyn once again went to the location below and tried both sets of numbers. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">If there was a single photograph I wish I had taken that day, it would have been the look on Marilyn's face, as the second lock snapped open. It was wonderful. It was that priceless mixture of a child's face on Christmas morning, and what I always imagined Mel Fisher's face must have looked like, the moment he discovered the final resting place of the <i>Atocha</i>. In that one moment, I truly think Marilyn <i>"Got"</i> what Ravenchase Adventures was all about. That wonderful moment of discovery and triumph. And then it was gone, as she opened the chest. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Inside the chest lay, not gold, silver, or even a cheap trophy cup, but our final mystery to be solve. Like the heroes of Dan Brown's novel, we had broken into the Depository of the Bank of Zurich, entered in our own version of the Fibonacci sequence and were now presented with a Cryptex of our own. Inside the box, lay a set of scrolls and a number of plastic Christmas tree ornaments. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">The look now on Marilyn's face reminded me only of the famous line of Riley Poole from the film National Treasure, <i>"Why can't they just say,--- Go to this place. Here's the treasure. Spend it wisely?" </i> </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I have to admit even I was a bit confused by what lay in the chest. It was a puzzling assortment of items. Taking one of each item, we relocked the chest, placed it back were we found it and vacated the premises, before further teams arrived. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> </div> <!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><b><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--></span></span></span></b></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><b><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> Over, Under and Out!� <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></b></span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><b> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--> with a bit of Horse Trading <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></b><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Halfway up the lane, was a barn and a place to sit out of the wind, while I carefully examined the scroll and the Christmas ornament. Clouds had moved in, the wind had picked up and the temperature was now dropping like a stone, as the sunlight dwindled with each passing hour. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Reaching into my Indiana Jones bag again, I pulled out several pencils and a Cipher Wheel of my own devising. These I presented to Marilyn, along with clue #5, asking her to work on the Rotational Code we had found at the Victorian clock. I had a feeling that we were going to need it to solve this last section. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">As I unrolled and flatten the scroll, I half expected to find it was going to be writing in Da Vinci's backwards handwriting code, and that we were suppose to use the mirrored Christmas ornament to read it. But, that would have been far too easy. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">The page was covered with 5 x 7 columns of different colored letters, mixed in with numbers. Each column was also marked by it having narrow slits carefully cut through the pages. Upon a first, second, and even a third glance, none of this made any apparent sense at all. That's when a thought about the slits came to me. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Pulling out my pocket knife, I slipped its point into the seam of the plastic Christmas ornament and cracked it open. Inside the ornament were five tightly rolled slips of paper.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Here, I have to give admiration to both, Kristine and Robert Jenner. For their ingenuity and incredible patience. It must have taken them both hours upon hours to get all those ornaments prepared. But, the purpose of the larger scroll and its slits was now crystal clear. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I was to weave the strips throughout the scrolls covering up certain letters and revealing others. The numbers that were revealed were to be filled in by letters found on the numbered boxes from earlier clues solved, such as the Parlor Clue. The message was ingenious, as it was imaginative.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">There were five strips, one with a <i>"tell"</i> giving away its correct positioning. This left four strips to deal with. If any of my higher math functions of my brain were still working; four to the power of two, equaling a total of sixteen possible combinations for the strips, if the facing ones were to be only red, or black letters facing out. Thirty-two possible combinations, if the colors of the letters facing outward were to be a mixture. It could escalate of sixty-four. This could take minutes, or it could take hours to unlock this Cryptex. It was time make a phone call and get a hint. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">The rules of Ravenchase Adventures do allow for you to make phone calls to them for hints, but it will cost you in overall time. When Kristine picked up on the other end of the line, she was jolly and full of spirits. But not of the liquid variety. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">She gushed over the line, that she was somewhere where it was <i>V-E-R-Y WARM,</i> while we poor hunters had to suffer cruelly in the <i>C-O-L-D.</i> I laughed lightly at her joke <i>(all the while, secretly wishing her another attack of the Rhino virus,)</i> and told her of my mathematical dilemma. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">She agreed that many combinations was a bit daunting and she and Rob should have left a better hint. So, she told me the secret was <i style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">"RED."</i> All the letters facing me, should be red, not black. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Hanging up, I was confronted by two other problems. One, other teams were starting to arrive. My first hint was looking up to see Rich, the husband of <i>Team Dude Run</i>, clownishly craning his neck around the side of the barn trying to see what progress we were making on the puzzle. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Jokingly, I threw my body across my pages covering them up the exact same way his wife, Michelle, had done in Philadelphia the previous June, when we all first met. Michelle and her daughter, Courtney, laughed at my mock antics. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">My second problem was that of a completely different color. My partner, Marilyn, was becoming a very blue. Literally and figuratively. She had found the correct key date for the deciphering of clue #5, but even with my cipher wheel, she was having trouble making sense of the message. I promised that I would double check her work, but we first had to get her out of the cold.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I, being of half Scottish and Dutch ancestry, I don't mind the cold as others do, but poor Marilyn, was nearly frozen through and through. There was nothing left to for me to do. I would have to take Marilyn home to Mother's. --- <i>Mother's Restaurant</i>, that is. --- The Restaurant was only a few blocks away on North Main Street. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Before Marilyn and I left, I did do a bit of <i>Horse Trading</i>, for an answer that had been bothering me all day. I passed along the secret of the <i>Red</i>, to those teams that had so far arrived, but for another team, I had to stop them from running away without their Christmas ornament. In gratitude, they revealed the secret of the Snow Flake Code to me. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Like the secret at the Mansion, the answer was so ridiculously simple, that I overlooked it entirely. The Snow Flake Code was just a variation on an old Rail Fence Code. A simple cipher, that was first used during the American Civil War. We had the answer to the clue already; but it was nice to understand what I had over looked so easily for future reference. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">At Mother's Restaurant, liberal amounts of warmth and hot spiced cider did much to restore Marilyn'ss spirits. I busied myself by filling in the blanks in Marilyn's decipherment and solving the Snow flake code, which now only took me less than two minutes to fully translate. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Marilyn's translation was 85% percent correct. The question that clue Number #5 asked was a simple one. <i>"What has been at this location since a particular date?"</i> The catalog in my mind snapped open again. I had seen that particular date in two locations at the Visitors Center. One was on the large Bronze Plaque on the front of the building and the second place was on the Iron Trellis, near the steps of the entrance. I suspected the Trellis, but, I could not remember the exact words that was on its small plaque. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Fortunately, I did recall that I took a picture of it. Reaching for my camera, I powered it up and played the review screen. The first photograph was the trellis, from about ten feet away. This was followed by images of the Bucks County Playhouse, the town's canon, village art work, the Logan Inn and the starting location of the race. But, the close up of the Trellis plaque was missing. Where was it? What had become of it? --- That's when it hit me. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Superman, as everyone well knows, can be defeated by Kryptonite. Daredevil, by too much sound. And the Green Lantern is powerless against the color Yellow. Even the immortal, Sherlock Holmes, found his Waterloo in the shapely womanly form of, Irene' Adler. My own weakness was to be observed solely in the blue of a woman's eyes and the warmth of her smile; <i>The Enchantress. </i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">In that single instance, when that woman greeted me outside the Visitor's Center, I forgot everything I was doing, including pressing the button on my camera that lay beneath my finger tip. All was lost, as I was. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Reviewing the photos I had taken again, I looked at the image of the trellis. The solution to the clue was before me, but far too small to read off my camera's two inch wide screen. There was nothing for it, but for us to return to the Visitors Center, and retrieve the missing words we needed to complete this final problem. Without them, the final page would forever remain gibberish. </span></span></span></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> </div> </div> <div style="text-align: center;"><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><b><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--> The Finish Line <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></b><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--> </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">With health and warmth restored to her body, Marilyn was once again willing to brave the elements with me. Together we set out for the Visitors Center and the last leg of our journey. Ten minutes later we were at the Center and writing down the missing words. And we were not alone. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">At least one other couple was there, still struggling to understand how the Rotational Code worked. I was feeling generous, and I gifted them one of my pencils with an eraser, and a hint. I filling in the first two words of the clue, I gave them the proper key number and explained how to use it. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">With the quote in hand, Marilyn and I went inside the Visitor Center and discovered that, Stephanie was still at her post behind the reception desk. She kindly allowed Marilyn and I to stay warm inside and use the large table at the center of the room, to work out our final solution. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">After filling in the missing letters on the long strips, it was only a matter of rearranging the strips in various combinations to find the proper order. This was a still bit of a bear even with the Red Hint, but Marilyn's knowledge of the town was our saving grace. During one of the shifts, Marilyn stopped me, because one word appeared she recognized. The word was Vito. On Bridge Street, she told me, there was a restaurant call, <i>The Villa Vito!</i> </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Weaving the strips over and under throughout the page, the rest of the message appeared. Marilyn solution was correct and we were quickly off in search of, <i>The Villa Vito,</i> taking time out only long enough to thank, Stephanie, for all her kindness during the day, as well as the loan of the Visitors Center's table. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">As we hurried along to the restaurant and the finished line, I did not hold great hopes for our chances of ever winning the race, but I at least held hopes for a respectable placing in the game. When I called in for the <i>RED</i> hint, Kristine Jenner had also mentioned to me that, so far, none of the other teams had cross over the finished line. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">But, by my own mental calculations, of all our time lost, due to wandering down the wrong path, back-tracking and rest stops along the way; I estimated we were likely behind first place by almost twenty-two minutes. These thoughts I kept to myself, so not to worry Marilyn, since she was really starting to feel good about herself and her contributions during the day. For someone that had never run the race before, or cracked a code in her life, Marilyn was a wonderful partner to have during this race. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">The lights of the Restaurant were warm and inviting, as we passed beneath the doorway of <i>The Villa Vito</i>. Applauses greeted us in true traditional Ravenchase style for anyone that even manages to finish such a race that we had been on. But, there were teams ahead of us, as I had guessed. Marilyn and I would learn later that we pulled in a respectable 6th Place showing. This was far from bad. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Out of nineteen teams, this placed us in the top third of the echelon of racers. Not a bad position to be, all things considered. Marilyn, I hoped would feel very good about going from <i>"hopeless"</i> at the beginning of the race to <i>"honored veteran"</i> at the end. Beating out thirteen other competing teams. A wonderful start for a beginner; as we also manage to stay ahead of my old rival team of <i>"Happy Fairy Mushroom Princess."</i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> The <i>HFMP</i> arrived about ten minutes behind us looking a little worse for wear, but any ills, or miseries created during the race were soon forgotten, as drinks began to flow, hot food was ordered and much need warmth was returning to our limbs. Marilyn and I sat next to <i>Team Dude, Run!</i> swapping war stories, of the day's hunt as further teams arrived and continued to crowd the restaurant to capacity. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">One of the final teams to arrive was a husband and wife team from Philadelphia that apologized for their lateness. They had been caught up at the <i>Gallery Piquel</i> discussing art with Tamara Cannon. It appears they had fallen in love with two of the art pieces and had lost track of time. This had to be a first, and very unique excuse, for any Ravenchase Hunt.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">When the awards were given out, the Victors of the Day were as follows:</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><b>1st Place: Best Team Ever!</b> <i>(The Golden Bobble head Snowman)</i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><b>2nd Place: Garden State Gang!</b> <i>(The Silver Snowman) </i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><b>3rd Place: Team Dude, Run!</b> <i>(The Bronze Snowman) </i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">All treasures being appropriately <i>"Tacky,"</i> in the yet <i>"Unbroken"</i> tradition set by Ravenchase Adventures. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Marilyn eyed the statues and chuckled, seemingly grateful now that we didn't come in first. I wondered if she was thinking about what it would have been like for her to have to haul that huge bobble-head home with her. Together we lifted our glasses and toasted the winners and cheered the losers; alike and equally in their measure. It was a grand day out. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">The party finally broke up about two hours later, as exhausted and very war weary adventurers headed home. Robert and Kristine Jenners were kind enough to save me the price of a taxi, by driving me to the Doylestown Train Station. For this I was very grateful for, and even more thankful for their friendship. They truly are wonderful people. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">As I settled in my seat on the train for the long ride home, I once again pulled out my copy of <i>The Da Vinci Code</i>. Paging backwards through the book, in search of the torn piece of newspaper that marked my place. My finger stopped and paused over one of later and more important passages in the book.</span></span></span></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> </div> </div> <div style="text-align: center;"><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--><i><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--> The Holy Grail 'neath ancient Roslin waits <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></i></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><i> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--> The blade and chalice guarding o'er Her gates <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></i></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><i> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--> Adorned in master's loving art, She lies. <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></i></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><i> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--> She rests at last beneath the starry skies <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></i><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--></span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"></span></div> <span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"> <!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--> </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Like Robert Langdon and Sophie Neveu, within the novel, I and Marilyn that day had run a good hunt, cracking numerous codes, uncovered mysteries secreted away within an Art gallery, and unlocked our own version of a Cryptex. We had done extremely well together. But, like the hero of the book, Robert Langdon, there remained one final mystery left for me alone to solve... <i>The Enchantress...</i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I realized now, as the train was pulling out of Doylestown, that I still had not learned the name of this mystery woman. I mused over this strange enigma in woman's form, and of the game itself. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">The Jenners had promised that day, a unique, if not memorable hunt. <i>The Enchanted Christmas Village Hunt</i>, was certainly all this. And, it had lived up to its promise in every detail. The race was wonderful and filled with memories. I had also been <i>"Enchanted"</i> that day; albeit to my own small down fall. But, such is life. I speak of no regrets here. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">But, as I glanced out the window of the train, looking up at the few stars above peeking through the clouds; I thought of the last line of the passage beneath my finger tips. <i>"She rests at last beneath starry skies." </i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Somewhere out there, my fair Enchantress was resting beneath these same starry skies. Her name remaining a mystery for me to solve for yet another day. Perhaps another hunt… February was coming, I thought, and <i>"Cupid's Arrow"</i> held the promise of a new adventures from Ravenchase. Only time would tell...</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">To all the teams that joined us that day in New Hope, I wish you all Love, Laughter, and a very well deserved Rest. Till we all meet again on the field of battle and at Ravenchase Adventures, I bid you all a good night...</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span></div> <span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><br /><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <div align="center"><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto-->With The Best of Holliday Regards,<br /><br /> The <!--coloro:#ff0000--><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><!--/coloro-->"Infamous"<!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--> Rassilon<!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><br /> <!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--> A.K.A. "Rass" to his friends <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><br /> <!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--> A.K.A. Geoffrey G. Wynkoop <!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto--><br /><br /><br /><br /><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <div align="center"><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto-->A Full list of the Team names, as they signed in for the Hunt<!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--fonto:Times New Roman--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><!--/fonto-->Congratulations to you all, you are all winners just for coming out that day:<!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><br /> 1. Team McGee!<br /> 2. Freezing Travelers!<br /> 3. The Goonies!<br /> 4. New Hope Newbie's!<br /> 5. Factotum!<br /> 6. William H. Macey! <i>(Previously raced in NYC)</i><br /> 7. Garden State Gang! <i>(Previously raced in NYC, Hamilton, Princeton)</i><br /> 8. G Cubed!<br /> 9. El Taco Loco!<br /> 10. Currie Burrito!<br /> 11. Pack Leaders!<br /> 12. Shadow Fox!<br /> 13. Happy Faerie Mushroom Princess! <i>(H.F.M.P.)(Philly Veterans)</i><br /> 14. Wildcard Hikers!<br /> 15. Fox!<br /> 16. Dude, Run! <i>(Philly and N.J. Veterans)</i><br /> 17. Best Team Ever <i>(Previously raced in NYC)</i><br /> 18. K-T Rocks!<br /> 19. Team Rassilon! <i>(The "Infamous") (With the Lovely Marilyn –first timer)</i><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--><!--/fontc--><!--IBF.ATTACHMENT_2869504-->Rassilonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01721185481568744682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049559609067254814.post-44235104881785429252008-12-21T09:40:00.001-05:002008-12-21T10:00:43.849-05:00Ravenchase Adventures - The Perfect Hunt!<!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:2--><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:#000000--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><!--/coloro-->*** (Disclaimer *** I apologize to the reader of this narrative, for I shall once more be both exceedingly wordy and more than purposefully vague at times, during this report, about the exact locations and details of the <span class="searchlite">hunt</span>. Also, to protect the <i>"Innocent"</i> and the not so <i>"Nearly Innocent,"</i> I shall be using everyone's On-Line computer handles. This is mainly to allow those of you who have known us to more readily identify with us.<br /><br />My vagueness with the clues is also out of politeness, respect and deep appreciation of Ravenchase Adventures and their wonderful staff.<br /><br />The Lexington <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span> was an entirely new <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span> for Ravenchase Adventures and designed exclusively for our <i>"Treasure Hunters Group."</i> If Ravenchase plans to reuse the town of Lexington and these sites in future; they have only my best wishes and my full support for their use of these locations and their wonderful clues for the future. --- Rassilon<br /><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><br /><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <div align="center"><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><img src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/Rassilon365/RavenchaseLogo2.jpg" class="linked-image" border="0" /><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><br /><br /><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <div align="center"><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--coloro:green--><span style="color: green;"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:5--><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo-->Ravenchase Adventures<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--coloro:green--><span style="color: green;"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:5--><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> & <!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--coloro:green--><span style="color: green;"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:5--><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> The Taking of Lexington <!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--coloro:green--><span style="color: green;"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:5--><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> or <!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--coloro:green--><span style="color: green;"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:5--><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--> "The <span class="searchlite">Perfect</span> <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span>" <!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><br /><br /></div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><br /><!--sizeo:2--><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><i><br /> <div align="center"><!--coloro:#000000--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><!--/coloro-->"Unhealthy things, Trains... As for the one I was on;<br /> it should be in a museum. It was wandering<br /> all around the countryside, like it was Lost…"<br /> Magersfontein Lugg<br /><br /> From: Margery Allingham's "Mystery Mile"<!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--> </div> </i><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <div align="center"><br /> </div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><br /><br /></span></span></span></span> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">It is strange, how at times, quotes from books and movies drift in and out of ones thoughts. But, after nine and a half hours on a train from Philadelphia, this quote from Margery Allingham's novel seemed very apt to me. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">My train, seemingly <i>"Lost"</i> in the wilds of Virginia, frequently took it upon itself to attempt every variation of speed possible conceived by man, from the full out racing of the engine, to a complete and utter standstill, dead in the middle of nowhere, never once maintaining any of these peculiar speeds for long. But, finally, lurching to a stop, (or perhaps finally breaking down from exhaustion,) my train arrived at the western edge of Virginia, at the tiny hamlet of Clifton Forge. I had arrived for the second gathering of the NBC <i>"Treasure Hunters" </i>Annual <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span>.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> Our hostess and original creator of this event, Whitney, better known to everyone on the NBC Boards as "Trsrhuntr", or "Treasure" for short, came along with our mutual good friend "KyNurse," to collect me from the station and drive me the last forty miles to Lexington. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> Lexington, Virginia, I will state freely, is a fantastically beautiful College town. It is the home of Washington & Lee University, and filled with manicured Parks, History and Buildings that can be traced back to the beginnings of both the Civil and Revolutionary wars. But, if there is one glowing and notable problem with the village itself, it is … <i><b>"You just can't get there from here." </b></i> </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> No train service, no bus service to speak of, and the nearest airport, was 52 miles away. Perhaps, the inaccessibility to the town is what truly preserves its beauty from the ravages of any would be modern developer. No one can get to there, without a car, or a lot of single minded determination to do so.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> Whitney, <span class="searchlite">perfect</span> gem that she is, had planned everything to a tee for this event. Ravenchase would arrive the next morning at 10 Am. The <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span> was to be, by her own insistence, an <i>"Intermediate to Advanced Level <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span>,"</i> especially designed for us by Lisa Duty <i>"The Ravenchase Junkie"</i> herself and her <i>"Too Clever by half " </i>coconspirator in crime, Chris Dove, their resident Codeilogist . </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> Lisa Duty and Chris Dove had already proven their talents to me, during the last Philadelphia <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span> I was on. And they had already delivered to our doorsteps such a mind blowing <i>"starter clue" </i>for the event, that it left many of us, after twelve hours, of code cracking, searching our medicine cabinets for the <i>"Ex-strength"</i> Aspirin. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> But, we at last, had our starting location somewhere on the beautiful Campus of Washington & Lee, and we also had our assembled teams, as well as our team monikers all carefully chosen. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Team <b>"Insanity, Inc."</b> was headed by "J15bell," her daughter "Reggie" and "Sluggy." </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Team <b>"The SNORKS"</b> was headed by "Flidais," Flitterbit" and "Ishop2buy"</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Team <b>"Triple Threat" </b>was headed by "Trsrhuntr", "KyNurse" and myself, "Rassilon"</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Team <b>"Stash Seekers"</b> was headed by "Jfray" and the lovely "Lady Diane"</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Our old friend, <i>Jacob</i>, from NBC's Treasure Hunters <i>"Team Ex-CIA,"</i> was to have joined us again for the <span class="searchlite">hunt</span> this weekend, as he done in Harpers Ferry. But, at the last minute, problems arose between him and the contractors of the house he is building, so it prevented his joining us. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Jacob was to be the third member of The Stash Seekers, running with his friends, Jfray and Diane, who bravely pressed on, as a two person team.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The first order of business was a Reunion dinner. Two weeks before, Treasure had sent out special invitations to all of us attending, and appropriately, the invitation was also in sent in code. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Break the cipher and you had the name of the restaurant in Lexington. Where all of us who had arrived by 6 pm, would meet, share a glass of cheer, a good meal, and to swap remembrances of our last <span class="searchlite">hunt</span> in Harpers Ferry. It was very good chance to see old friends again, and after my long train ride, I shamelessly wolfed down everything on my plate that was placed before me. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The party broke up around 8:00 PM, as we headed back to our campsite at the KOA in Natural Bridge. Those of you, who have read my write up of the Harpers Ferry <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span>, will remember my particular <i>"warm and fuzzy"</i> thoughts on the KOA and their amenities, but I have to confess I liked the Natural Bridge setting, much better. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Nestled among a pine forest, the trees offered welcome relief from the heat of the day with its gentle shade. Treasure and KY, who had come down two days earlier, were wonderful. They had worked out with the owners of the KOA to have small gift baskets they had both made for us placed in each of our cabins. The baskets were filled with such items as card of greeting, flowers, soap, washcloth, a small bottle of Jim Beam (<i> which I assumed was in case of snake bite.</i> ) There was also a handful of Gold Plastic Doubloons, to remind us we were on a Treasure <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span> this weekend. Even as I type this, I have several of those Doubloons on my desk before me; A few small momentoes of my weekend.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The girls had, for the last two days, been especially worried for our <span class="searchlite">hunt</span> that weekend, because dark rain clouds seem to hover exactly over the KOA. It was an ominous omen in their mind. But, I can tell you the day of the <span class="searchlite">hunt</span> was perfectly beautiful. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Of the KOA site, if there was one thing that Treasure truly missed not having at this particular campsite, it was the giant fire pit that we had at the Harpers Ferry. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">You will recall from my last report that Treasure's brother, who was in charge of the fire pit, tried his "very" best to burn down half the camp. I suspect that pyromania, <i>"Runs"</i>, if not <i>"Gallops," </i>throughout her entire family and that was why Treasure was so melancholy that evening, while she talked about the loss of the fire pit. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">More drinks were the order of the day at Treasure and KY's cabin, once we were all settled in. And while the stars came out and danced above us, the girls filled us in on their many adventures over the last two days, which include their daily ritual of prayers to the local Rain Gods of Lexington, to hold off until after the <span class="searchlite">hunt</span> was over. Their visits into Lexington to check out its history and such quaint local haunts as, Foam Henge, which is Virginia's own full size replica of England's Stone Henge, only made entirely out of Styrofoam. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">There was also the local <i>ELVIS</i> inspire <i>haute' cuisine</i> of the <i>"Pink Cadillac"</i> Restaurant, where we were strongly cautioned ahead of time, that you if order their morning oatmeal, you could very effectively mortar bricks with it. The restaurant's management also possessed the strangest of attitudes, as they will more than proudly point out a sign stating <b>"If You Don't Like The Way I Do Business…Buy Me out!!!" </b></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Sensibly, around 10:30 I polished off my last drink and wandered away to bed, leaving the <i>"Ladies"</i> to gossip and <i>"Men Bash"</i> without me as the possible surrogate target of their pointed jibs. I wanted a clear headed and to be sharp for the morning's <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span>. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <div align="center"><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><u><b>Saturday - June 16th, 2007 – THE <span class="searchlite">HUNT</span>!</b></u><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"> <div align="center"> </div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">10:00 Am the next morning, our caravan of would-be adventurers descended upon the unsuspecting town of Lexington, and in particular the central campus of Washington & Lee University. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The meeting place according to Ravenchase's first coded email, was to be in front of the statue of Cyrus McCormick, the inventor of the first working harvest Reaper. The Statue other than a simple meeting place for our gathering, had absolutely nothing to do with our clues, or <span class="searchlite">hunt</span> that day; so, I believe Ravenchase will forgive me for mentioning this one gathering point. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">With Treasure and Ky having the lay of the land, our team "Triple Threat" arrived at the statue first. Team "Insanity, Inc" arrived second, all of them wearing their team jerseys, which only made Treasure a bit sad, because she had made up a Team Jersey as well. But my own last minute presence threw a large monkey wrench into her intended plans. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Originally, Trsrhuntr and KYNurse had planned to run the race as a double team, having chosen as their Team name as "Double Trouble." But, with the last minute addition of my name to the team roster, she couldn't wear her new t-shirt. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">I admit, it was a beautiful T-Shirt, having a map of Lexington with the Team's name on the one side, and on the reverse was the Team's "Motto" emblazoned across the back, in a large menacing "Barbwire font" saying:</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><b> <div align="center">"TRAMPLE THE WEAK!</div></b></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><b> <div align="center"> HURDLE THE</div> </b></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><b> <div align="center"> DYING!!!"</div> </b><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Needless to say, Treasure did at least have her <i>"Game Face"</i> on that weekend.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The first to arrive from Ravenchase Adventures was Chris Dove, carrying the now famous Red Treasure Chest; containing all our clues and whatever else we might need for the <span class="searchlite">hunt</span>. Lisa Duty, who was off making a few last moment final preparations, arrived about ten minutes later. Teams STASH SEEKERS and The SNORKS, brought up the rear having had problems finding a parking place for their vehicles. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">After signing the usual legal waivers, stating that <i>"Should any of us be Caught, Captured, or Killed… The President of Ravenchase will disavow any knowledge of our involvement with their fine organization."</i> Chris and Lisa then presented us with the general overview of the <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span> that day. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">First, we might encounter several actors that day. They will only interact with us "If" we decipher the clues correctly and perform certain actions, or ask certain questions. <i>(This pleased me enormously, as this was the first <span class="searchlite">hunt</span> where I personally got to interact with Ravenchase actors. I had read about them on the internet, but this was a first)</i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Secondly, we were to be given six clue sheets, and a map, but somewhere among them was a <i>"red herring"</i> that was designed to lead us astray. Also, Among the pages given to us there would be one page that would appear to be complete balderdash & gibberish to our eyes, and its true purpose would only become apparent when we reached one of the secret locals. <i>( my interest was tweaked, and my code solving senses were already tingling --- Gads, shades of Spiderman. ) </i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">No gadgets would be given out today, because all that we might require could be found along the way today. --- <i>( This was an odd statement, but I took note of it in the back of my mind.)</i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Lisa then handed out our clue scrolls, as Chris made note of the exact time on his clip board and we were off! </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <div align="center"><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><u><b>Clues, Panic & Aggravation for Breakfast</b></u><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"> <div align="center"> </div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Treasure, as team leader, opened the clue scrolls and read our first clue. There were no codes to solve on this first page, but poetically it spoke of solemn ground and a grave of one. I think from all our advanced research of the town, Treasure, Kynurse and I, all got the first clue at once, and quickly vanished from the scene, leaving the other teams to read and ponder over their own clues.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">In short order, our Team arrived at the grave of "The One," to read the stone marker. Our first guess had been this might be a location for one of the hidden gold coins, or perhaps yet another clue scroll, as our own clue did not ask us to solve anything, just to locate the friend of the man buried there. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">If there was a surprise to be had for us, it was in finding, Lisa Duty, there waiting for us with her camera. She was quietly clicking off archive shots for Ravenchase's files. I think even she was a bit surprised how quickly we had arrive upon the spot. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">A swift search of the area, revealed the named of the man we wanted, but again, our research before hand, had revealed the fact that "the friend" we were searching for was in a part of a mausoleum closed now to the public for renovations. It was obvious that this was the "Red Herring" clue. Lisa seemed enormously pleased that we had caught on so quickly. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Turning to the next clue, our team was off again across campus in search of our next location, which involved finding the Information Hall.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">This was one of my favorite clue of the day, because it was so vague and simple, it confounded nearly every team. The teams were all literally tripping over one another, as we all seem to converge upon the same spot at once. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The clue spoke of the entrance doors and doors within, Polybius, a number and the ultimate search for "Nothing." If this sounds confusing, it was; which is what made the clue so wonderful. It could be interpreted so many ways. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Inside the Information Hall, we were face with at least six doors leading to everything from the bathroom, to a visitors' sign-in room. And to confuse things more, there were dozens upon dozens of photos on every wall showing various local historical buildings and their front doors. In another room hung locally made paneled Quilts decorated with buildings and doors on them as well. But, which door did the clue refer to???</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Treasure noticed in one of the alcove rooms, there were framed photos of recommended business on the wall. All of them carefully numbered. Next to one of the plaques, was a big "nothing" open spot where one of the plaques had been removed. Sensing this was a clue Treasure ran off to put the female receptionist in a headlock, and "gently" persuade the woman, into telling her what originally had hung in that open spot. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">My own foolish idea came, when I spotted among the brochure rack, a folder with a Raven logo on it. Thinking this would be a wonderfully brilliant place to hide a clue; I opened it only to discovered it was really nothing more than a brochure for one of the local caterers. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Team Snorks confess to me later, their own foolish idea came, when they noticed the courtesy phone in the corner of the alcove, which allowed visitors to speed dial local businesses for reservations. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Thinking this might be what the mysterious number related to, they dialed the number and when the voice on the other end answered, they asked if they could speak to "Mr. Polybius." The answer they received was not worth repeating. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">I have spoken in some of my previous posts of how serendipity sometimes comes into play during the Ravenchase Adventure games. It was while I was pondering over the meaning of the doors; I happened to glance through a window and found myself looking at "The Door" and in an instant understood the full meaning of the Polybius reference. Quickly pointing this out to Kynurse, we ran to gather Treasure up, who still held the poor Receptionist in a headlock.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> Apologizing to the bewildered woman for our ill manners, we stayed only long enough to grab a few local maps and brochures from the racks, and then quickly slipped from the scene, as the other teams had their backs to us. A few blocks away, we soon stood before "The Door." </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Now that we found "The Door," all we had to do was figure out the meaning of "The Nothing." Here, I will give credit, where credit was due, I may have found the door, but it was the sharp eyes of my angel, Kynurse, who discovered what the meaning of the Nothing was. For a first timer on the <span class="searchlite">hunt</span>, she did the team proud. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">We had the Nothing, as well as the numbers associated with the Nothing, all I had to do was figure out how to apply them to the code printed on the bottom of the page. For this, I needed time to think.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">At this junction, I will add a small note about the dynamics of a team. First it is a learning experience in understanding and patience. Ravenchase staff members, Kristine and Robert Jenner, spoke about this in a recent article, for Time Off Magazine. In the article they talked of their first Ravenchase experience, before joining the staff. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><i>"We fought like crazy at first --- "No we need to go this way, no that way" --- but we learned our strengths and weaknesses. It was something we really bonded over. --- Although, I would not recommend it for a first time date…." </i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">For Treasure, Kynurse and myself, this was our first time date together as a team, and we were not without our few "momentary" problems. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">I was trying to decode "The Nothing" code while Treasure, who was fearful about losing possession of the clue sheets, twice snatched the page away from me, forcing me to snatch it back, until I could fully copy the code out on to my work sheets. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Poor Kynurse, who I love dearly, looked terribly alienated from the team at this point, as Treasure and I bickered over the wisdom of moving on to the next clue or standing perfectly still, until I had unraveled the mystery of the code. <i>( Actually I think the look KY truly gave us, was that of a mother who wanted to knock her horrible children's heads together to get us to straighten up and fly right. Which, we finally did.) </i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">But before I leave this subject, let me openly apologize to both my teammates and tell them that I do cherish them both and ask them to forgive me for possessing the typical pigheadedness of a male, who had run too many of these races alone. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">I had forgotten, for a moment, that Treasure was our elected Captain and as such had the deciding vote in all matter, and as for input, none of us were less equal than other. So Ky and Treasure, I apologize to you both. Please forgive me.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <div align="center"><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><u><b>"THE EYES HAVE IT"</b></u><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"> <div align="center"> </div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">While I was pondering the "Nothing" code, we voted to move on to what I call the "Eyes Have It," or clue #4. The clue spoke of finding one of Virginia's favorite sons and look upon what he saw with disdain. The park in which the statue lay, according to the guide maps, was not too far away so, we as a team, were off again. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The statue was impressive in its detail, and would not be the first we would encounter that day, but what was far more impressive was discovering Lisa Duty and Chris Dove were now both skulking near by in the bushes with their cameras on the ready again. --- <i>Just who was following who, we wondered? </i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">For a moment, I thought I had discovered one of the Ravenchase gold coins at the base of the statue, but it turned out sadly to be only a gold military button some passing visitor had left behind as a tribute. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Treasure in the meantime had aligned herself with the tip of the statue's nose and simply walked out in a straight line, until she discover what he was looking at with distain. There she found a plastic bag with our next clue, a photograph with the eyes punched out. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Neither Treasure, or Ky understood what the photograph was, but I did on sight and suddenly our Balderdash page, or Clue #5 made <span class="searchlite">perfect</span> sense to me. As I aligned the Photograph to the page, I must say, I was deeply impressed with Lisa Duty's talents as a Graphic Artist. I haven't the slightest idea how she was able to set up the page up so precisely, but it did make me laugh, as I spelled out the cryptic letters, Ky watched over my shoulder and Treasure by my side wrote the letters down. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">We were a team again and the words gave us the location in the park for the first quarter of our final clue. We were feeling very good at this point, especially me, as I had also finally figured out the "Nothing" clue and we had our next location, which our team boldly headed off for. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <div align="center"><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><u><b>SEE WHAT DEVELOPS</b></u><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"> <div align="center"> </div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Leaving the park behind us, we headed down the street towards the center of town again. But, coming the opposite way, we spotted Team Snorks heading up the hill. Both teams politely flashed them that bright warm wonderful and even <i>"slightly sincere"</i> smile, then weakly lied and said, <i>"No, we haven't found anything yet either… maybe you'll do better than us!"</i> Needless to say we picked up the pace a step, or two, as they passed us. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The Nothing clue sent us to garden in the center of town, with nothing more than this to go on, I assumed we were searching for a gold coin again, as I knew from a previous hunts, clues can sometimes simply say, "Search the Shelter." Never mind that the shelter happens to be as big as a barn. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The garden clue left me with the same feelings and we blindly began to search among the benches, trellises and flower beds. I even began looking under the public trashcans, just in case. All this caught the eye of a local man, who was sitting, with his camera, on a near by bench. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Asking what we up to, we apologized and explained that before he calls the Police on us, we were apart of a Ravenchase Adventure <span class="searchlite">hunt</span> in search of a clue. He laughed and asked if he could take our picture for his records, since he was out shooting that day in the park. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Gathering the team together, we flashed him our pearly whites and he snapped our picture. Then reaching into his pocket for what I thought would be a business card, he instead handed us a plastic film canister with a Latin phrase wrapped around it; offering us the advice… <i>"See what Develops"</i> --- We had discovered our first actor of the day and our next clue. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <div align="center"><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><u><b>Stalking the Stalkers</b></u><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"> <div align="center"> </div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">As a team, we were feeling pretty good and pretty full about now, as the morning coffee was passing through us all at a tremendous rate. We voted for a bathroom break to restore peace and order to our thoughts. As the restaurant, where we held our reunion party the previous evening was near, the choice was obvious. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Opening the door of the bistro, we stepped in and came, once again, face to face with Lisa Duty and her camera. She was now sitting alone at the Bar. <i>( What can I say, this woman "really" gets around.)</i> But, who was Stalking who??? </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Going downstairs to the Lavatories, I open the men's room door and discovered Chris Dove there. <i>(Ok, I now felt like a Stalker, as well as a Voyeur.)</i> We both laughed and several minutes later, when I was feeling more relaxed, I rejoined Treasure and Ky and together we examined the roll of film. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Having, cruelly, been forced by my own parents back in High School to take German, instead of Latin, the instructions were meaningless to me. But, the examination of the film roll showed that it contained Paper and not film inside, so that meant it was a water clue. I had encountered these before on several hunts and knew what to do. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Reaching in my Indiana Jones Bag hanging by my side, I pulled out a small container of water and sprayed the paper. The message appeared before our eyes. It said we were to locate a particular woman and sing to her. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">At this, Ky nearly leaped out of her skin, because she said, she had spotted the very woman we were looking for near the garden we had just come from. --- We bounded off in search of the mysterious woman, leaving Chris and Lisa at the bar, to finish their ice teas. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Looking in all directions outside, we spotted our quarry, window-shopping near the upper end of the block. We charged down upon her, as Teddy Roosevelt might have charged up San Juan Hill. Treasure, reaching her first, asked if the woman if she had anything for us? To which the woman curtly replied, <i>"I don't know, do you have anything for me???" </i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Treasure's eyes narrowed and her upper lip twitched as her "Game Face" reappeared. Fearing she was about to do something rash, like put another woman in a headlock, I leapt into action. If you can ever call singing a leap of action? </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Plucking forth my very best Bathroom Baritone, I immediately launched into a light reframe from, <i>"Man of La Mancha,"</i> that would have done any Wagnerian Opera House proud. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <div align="center"><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><i>"Hear me, heathens and wizards </i><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"> <div align="center"> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><i> And serpents of sin! </i><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div> </span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"> <div align="center"> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><i> All your dastardly doings are past, </i><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div> </span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"> <div align="center"> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><i> For a holy endeavor is now to begin </i><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div> </span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"> <div align="center"> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><i> And virtue shall triumph at last! " </i><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div> </span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"> <div align="center"> </div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Before I could embark on what I felt was the best part, namely the second verse; the woman whipped out a clue scroll from her pocket with lighting speed, placed it squarely into my hand. <i>(Though there was a moment, I was not uncertain that her original sighted target was my mouth, to stay my wagging tongue. )</i> I suspected in her former life, the woman was secretly a Music Critic for the Richmond Post. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">But, at least I did make Ky giggle and Treasure liked my singing enough to request an encore that night back at the KOA. But, I wasn't quite drunk enough at that point to do it again. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Treasure took charge of the scroll, and this clue instructed us to go in search of whales at one of the local shops.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">As we search the store fronts, for the right store, I briefly thought of Chris and Lisa back at the bar, as I noticed a store devoted entirely to Scottish Kilts and finery. Chris and Lisa, I knew from past conversations, used to like to show up at the Ravenchase Hunts wearing their kilts; when they themselves were on the other side of the game. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Finally locating the correct store front; we entered the shop and approached the sales counter. There, we were almost immediately rebuffed by the shop girl, who told us in no uncertain terms, that she had instructed <i>"Never, even under the Pain or threat of Death, or Destruction" </i>was she <i>"ever"</i> to divulge any information that would aid us in our quest. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">From the confused, if not dumbfounded pout on Treasure's face, I could tell another head-locking experience had yet again been avoided. Treasure looked slightly more than disappointed, by this news. --- I personally suspect she and her brother must have grown up watching far too much World Federation Wrestling on TV, which has left her marked for life.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Fortunately, despite this minor set back, within minutes, we had discovered the cryptic meaning of the whales and what was hidden among them. We now had the Second quarter of our final clue. We were half way home. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <div align="center"><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><u><b>The Merry-go-round </b></u><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></div></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"> <div align="center"> </div> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Outside the store again, our team recheck our bearings and our clues once more, before heading back onto the Campus of Washington & Lee, in search of Clue number #3. A clue, which I could only best describe to you as, the Merry-Go-Round.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">We were starting to pound quite a lot of shoe leather at this point and even I was getting punchy from scanning every local for signs of a clue, or possible glint of a gold coin. I started grasping at straws.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Half way across campus, I spotted a Raven perched on a lonely stone wall and remembering in the Harpers Ferry, Joshua Czarda, had use a stuffed Raven to mark a clue location, my hopes rose. As I was about to make a beeline for it, my clue marker suddenly took wing and flew away. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">We didn't spot a clue at the wall, but we did spot something else. Team "Stash Seekers," about a hundred yards ahead of us, apparently heading for the same location we were. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">As a team, we immediately went into our stealthy Cloak & Dagger mode, slipping from tree to tree, following closely and keeping a close eye on what Jfray and Lady Diane were up to. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">They were indeed heading for the same spot as we were, one of the taller four sided monuments on campus. What surprised us most was, that they stopped at the monument only for a minute before moving on, so we quickly took advantage of this situation and appropriated the monument for ourselves. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">This clue was a multi-tiered cipher. To solve the code, we had to gather information from all four sides of the monument. Not an easy tasks, as this sent us spinning around the monument at least twelve times to decode it in order, much like a merry-go-round. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">When the ride ended, it only provided us with the code key we needed, which we then needed to apply to the cipher on the back of the page. The problem lay in the fact that the code key could be interpreted in several different ways. While our team was scratching its collective heads over the problem, two other teams arrive at the site of the monument. Team SNORKS and the reappearance of The Stash Seekers again. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">All the teams looked up and flashed that bright <i>"Wintery"</i> smile to one another, that was perhaps only last seen during the winter of 1846, when the <i>"Donner Party"</i> all smiled, just as warmly, at their neighbors, and collectively, fingered their knives. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">I think everyone realized at this stage of the game, that this clue could be the tie-breaker. All the groups settle back and set to work, still eyeing each other for indications of clues, or signs of which of us had cracked it first.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> I ran the code three ways, but the first part of the message always looked confused. So I suggested to Treasure, to quietly to text message Chris at the number he gave us in case of trouble and ask if there was a problem with the code. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">A few minutes later, the text answer came back saying, <i>"No." What we thought were a jumble of letters, was in fact a person's name. </i>Checking one of the pamphlets we took from the Information Hall, we scouted the name and saw that we were in search of yet another on-campus garden. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">I think it was at the beginning of this article, I mentioned that Lexington has <i>"Lots"</i> of beautifully manicured lawns and gardens. ---- In fact, it appears if there is one growing Cottage Industry within Lexington, Virginia; it is its history. And, of course, the manufacture and placement of monuments and gardens dedicated to that history. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">No one walking around this town could possibly swing a preverbal dead cat, without hitting something historical. I live in Philadelphia, the home and birth place of the American Revolution, Ben Franklin, the Liberty Bell and even I don't think we have <i>"THIS"</i> many monuments. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">To get to the garden, our team decided to play sneaky. Ky and Treasure went on ahead, while I remained behind and went over to the monument and gave JFray and Diane a hand. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">I notice that they seemed to be on their twentieth ride around on the Merry-Go-Round and they both looked a little dizzy. Deciding to level the playing field a bit, I remained only long enough to give them a hint how to read the monument, before slipping quietly away myself. The other were still at work.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Five minutes later, our team had found the garden and hidden among my oldest and most notorious <i>"Nemesis" </i>of all time, commonly known as <i>"Garden Ivy,"</i> we located the third quarter of our last clue. We were now in the home stretch seeking our final section. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><u><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--></span></u></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><u><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><b> <div align="center">The Home Stretch</div> </b><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--></u><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Clue #6 was my personal favorite of all the clues of that day, a three layer clue unlike anything I had previously encountered. Part one was a poem that directed us to one of the three museums on campus. Once inside, the poem directed us to one particular exhibit. And from a single object within the exhibit, we would able to decipher the second part of the clue. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">As we arrived at the museum, the place appeared closed, but a kind fellow sitting outside the front door reading his text book, assured us that the museum was indeed open and we were welcome to go inside. For us, the air conditioning inside was a welcome relief from the heat of the day and rejuvenating to our grey cells.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Searching several rooms over, we spotted the glass case describe in the clue and what lay inside, nearly caused me laugh out loud. The exhibit was devoted to devices used by the Allied Forces during World War II for the art of Cryptology and Ciphers. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">I could just imagine Lisa and Chris laughing as well, when they first stood there and discovered this display. What could be more <span class="searchlite">perfect</span> for a race involving coding breaking than to lead everyone to this display? </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">I now understood what Lisa now meant by, <i>"everything we might need, could be found along the way."</i> The only question remaining was which of the six cipher disks in the case, was the one we needed to decode the message? It was a weighty problem, but we set to work. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Four minutes later, we heard the sound of the front door opening, followed by some familiar voices within the foyer speaking to one of the Museum staff. Team Snorks had arrived on the scene. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">At this point, I will pause to add a small note personal note on Code Solving, for those Would-be-Adventures that are reading this, and would seek to follow in our hollowed footsteps. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Code Solving… is not as easy as it looks. --- Especially when you have two, however charming, female companions, taking turns slapping you against the soft spot on the back of your skull every few seconds, telling you to <i>"Hurry up,"</i> because the other team was arriving on the scene. --- Rather <i>"Distracting,"</i> don't you know. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The situation now calls for desperate measures. <i>(If only to stop Treasure and Ky from beating on the back of my skull.)</i> Suspecting the code was a simple shift; I copied the first two words down on my work sheet and preformed a brute force on the code, until two words in English appeared. I had the solution to the shift and we had to get out of there. We were gone before any of the others discovered us, or the display case.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Outside the Museum, I wanted nothing more than to sit down on the front steps and finish my decoding of the second part of the message. But, Treasure, who seemed to be exhibiting signs of full out Paranoia, because the proximity of other teams, insisted that we remove ourselves from the area, as quickly as possible. So, for the next minute and a half, KY and I chased Treasure about, until she found a group of bushes that matched her comfort level and that could hide us all. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Here I will add a second personal observation, concerning Code Solving for those Would-be-Adventurers that follow us:</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> It is quite <i>"Impossible," </i>I assure you, to decipher any Coded Message, unless you <i>"actually"</i> have the message in your hands. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">All during the time we were chasing Treasure about, in search of her safe haven, she still possessed a lobster's grip on the original clue sheet I needed. It wasn't until we were all safely behind the bushes, that I was finally able to retrieve the clue sheet and translate it. The clue told us to seek a statue, for within his hand lay the keyword to the last the clue. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Perhaps it was serendipity at work again, or perhaps Treasure's bout of paranoia was suddenly more than justified by the fates that watched over us; but strangely, as we looked up from the clue; the place Treasure had chose to hide, was only thirty feet from the very statue in question. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">As we approached it, we all noted the figure seemed to be actually holding two objects in his hands, not one. And we openly debated among ourselves, as to which of the two words were needed for the code. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">It was during this open debate, that the fellow who had been reading outside of the museum, quietly appeared by our sides and offered his own opinion of which word was need. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Smiling, he then asked if we had ever heard of a <i>Vigenere Cipher Grid</i>, producing a small grid sheet from his pocket. --- We had found our third Actor of the day and the last of our needed gadgets. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">I chuckled, as I pulled out my own full size version of the <i>Vigenere Grid</i> and showed it to him. Like my Indiana Jones bag, the Vigenere grid, is also something I have learned never to leave home without, especially when on a Ravenchase Adventure. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Thanking him for his help, we withdrew to a shaded veranda nearby, where we could sit down and deciphered the last part of the message in comfort. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">At this point, I am proud to say, our team was at last working like a well oiled machine again. I set up the keyword and the text. KY reading it out to me, while I ran the grid, and Treasure wrote down the letters I translated. In two minutes flat, we had the entire message. And even though it was an odd one, it did make us smile. We were to find the reading man again and give him <i>"The Magic Word"</i>. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">What was the Magic word???? I am not telling, but we all delivered it in chorus and in true <i>"Southern"</i> Style, that would have made anyone from the town of Mayberry swell their chests with pride. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The reading man, whose name we later learned was named David, laughed at our southern antics and from the back pages of his book, produced the final quarter of our missing clue; The clue that would tell us what restaurant to meet at and cross the finish line.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--sizeo:4--><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 100%;"><u><b> <div align="center">Seeking the Stars</div> </b></u><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Using Scotch tape from my bag, again something any would-be Adventurer should never leave home without, we put the four quarters of our clue together and read the poem. It suggested a place found within the town, and that we were to, search for the Stars above and remember never to overlook the Treasures that lay forgotten beneath our feet.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Sounds very poetic, but these are my words, not Ravenchase's. I promised, Chris and Lisa, I would not reveal the solution to the puzzle, in the event they reused this clue again, but the words do suggest what we were actually given. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The final clue was another three tiered puzzle. And with warp speed, we kicked it into hyper drive and were on our way, without so much of a hint of other teams following us. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Our self confidence was riding high, as we headed back to town in search of the stars. As we went along, in review, we reflected upon our own current odds of winning that race. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">We had left Team Snorks in the Museum and they had yet to emerge to seek the statue, before we left for town. Team Stash Seekers, we assumed were at least five minutes behind The Snorks, so they should be in the Museum by now as well, perhaps still working with the cipher disks. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">So we jointly estimated that we were at least fifteen minutes ahead of the pack. Then Treasure and Ky brought up a very good, if not unnerving point. Just where <i>"WAS" </i>J15Bell's and her Team, Insanity, Inc???</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">No one among us had seen their team since the start of the race. We openly began to worry that the heat, the exercise, or perhaps the puzzles had been too much for her team and they had simply given up. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> We recalled that on the previous evening that all the heavy smoke in the restaurant had made it hard for her to breath. So much so, that she left the party early. These sympatric feelings of sorrow for J15Bell and her team were commendable to our kind spirits and to our credit, but they would have perhaps, in the end, actually been better spent upon ourselves.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> As we arrived in center of town, who should we see just thirty yards ahead of us, but Team Insanity, Inc. entering a local bistro and sauntering across the finishing line ahead of us. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Apparently they had done all of the clues we had done, only in reverse. The hardest ones first, and the easier ones last. That is why our paths had never crossed.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">In that moment, our team felt like the favored horse at the Kentucky Derby, who in the last moment is squarely beaten by the dark horse out of nowhere. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">But, also strangely I must admit, I also had the deepest admiration for what Team Insanity, Inc had done. Especially, after I stupidly remembered, J15Bell and her friend Sluggy, both love doing nothing better, than to stay up all night long working on logic puzzles, they find on the internet. --- <i>We had been Snookered, but good.</i> But, as a team we pressed on. We had lost the Gold, but there was still the Silver to be won.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">We located the Stars the poem spoke of, and there at our feet, lay an answer to our riddle. And that only required a little help from our old friend Polybius to solve. Eight minutes later and, of course, behind Team Insanity, Inc, we cross the finish line. ---- Now, the real "nail biting" began for both our teams. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Neither J15Bell's team, nor our own team, had found any of the Gold Coins hidden along the route. A single gold coin, worth twenty minutes off our time, showing up now, could change the order of the race and erase everything both our teams had accomplished. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Both teams sat silently, watching the wall clock over the bar as the minutes ticked slowly by. Twenty minutes later, both teams audibly breathed a heavy sigh of relief, as finally our hands shot up in unison, for the waitresses to begin taking our orders for drinks, as well as some much needed food. The knots in our collective stomachs were gone now. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">As our food began to arrive at the table, the last of the teams started to cross the finish line, Team Stash Seekers surprised both groups, by being the next to arrive. We had all been certain it would be The Snorks, since they had been so closely on our heels at the Museum.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">I found out later from Flidais, that her team The Snorks had gotten hopeless entangled within the museum, attempting to figure out how to use the Ciphers Disks in the display case. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">So much so, that David, our reading man from outside the building, had become worried and abandoned his post to check on them. If only to assure himself that they had not been tied up in a broom closet by our team, or being held prisoner by an insane Museum guard with a gun. The time delays, like the Merry-Go-Round clue for our team, had been a costly one. This clue was not one of their finer moments. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">But, even these sad tales and bleeding wounds were healed, as drinks were poured, food was ordered and sorrowful tales of the day were turn into laughter and jibs among good friends. But there were still more surprises to come. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">As to the awards, the Chris and Lisa presented the teams with the following:</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Team <b>"Insanity, Inc."</b> took home <b>the Golden Bowl Award</b>, filled with chocolate. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> Along with "All" the bragging rights</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Team <b>"Triple Threat"</b> took home the <b>"Silver Horse Award</b>, which Treasure and I </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> presented to "KyNurse" as a momentoes of her first <span class="searchlite">hunt</span>. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Team <b>"Stash Seekers"</b> was awarded the <b>Pewter Chinese "Foo Dog"</b> which they</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> very kindly presented to me, after I admired it,</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> or perhaps for my kindness in helping them during the game.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Team <b>"Snorks" </b> did not leave empty handed either. To them went </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> the <b>Bronze Flying Pig award</b>. Which they accepted, </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> graciously, while in the same breath vowing to crush</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> anyone that stood in their way … <i>"Next Time." </i></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Lisa Duty and Chris Dove informed us, that they were very impressed with all of us for just completing the hunt; since it would be equivalent of <i>"Day One"</i> in the <i>"Great Virginia <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span>."</i> A two day race that Ravenchase Adventures puts on only for advanced level players of the game. I still have my own hopes of running that race one day and winning. I for one feel, no one can ever have enough <i>"Tacky Statues"</i> in their home.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Lisa then surprised us with a very special and unexpected gift. Not from her, but from Genworth Financial, the company that backed and supported the series <i>"Treasure Hunters" </i>on NBC. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">One of their Executives from their home office had taken notice of all our postings about the Lexington <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span>, on the NBC Boards, and had secret contacted Lisa at Ravenchase Adventures. For our support of the series, he sent everyone promotional posters for the show. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">I personally had been looking for one of these posters on EBay since the series ended, all without success, so I was especially touched by Genworth's unexpected kindness towards us. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The second gift came from the Museum in Lexington, who seemed so tickled pink, about their exhibit being used as a focal point within the hunt; that they sent over huge information packets about the museum to us at the restaurant. Just in case we wanted to return and tour all the exhibits, at speeds somewhat less then a hundred and ninety miles an hour.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">And our final gift, to come, did come from Ravenchase Adventures. To commemorate our special day, Lisa was arranging to have special T-Shirts made up for us all to mark the event. For the price we paid, Ravenchase Adventures gave wonderful value, if not more, to make our adventure special, I really do think they under value their services.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The party wore on at the restaurant for over three hours, until out of pity we allowed Chris, Lisa and the other actors for the day, to hit the road, while there was still a hint of daylight for them to see their long journey home to Richmond. They were like part of our family by then, and we were reluctant to let any of them go. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">The rest of us headed back to the KOA Campsite to party late into the night and enjoy our final treat of the day, J15Bell's <i>"Legendary"</i> home made Chili. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">This Chili was one of the biggest hits and highlights at the Harpers Ferry <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span> last year. And even though Treasure's brother was not there that weekend, once he learned about the chili coming to the festivities, he insisted his sister bring him home at least a bucket load of J15Bell's chili.</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Our final adventures of the day, our over exaggerations of events, our gentle jibs to each other and the laughter with good friends was worthy of any campfire that night. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">It was a glorious <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span>, that day in Lexington; A <span class="searchlite">Perfect</span> <span class="searchlite">Hunt</span>. So, thank you Chris Dove, Lisa Duty, the entire staff of Ravenchase Adventures and to the Town of Lexington, Virginia for putting up with our small evasion force. I think I speak for all of us involved, when I say that we hope to see you all again very, very soon. </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">Sincerely Yours, </span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"> <b>" Rassilon "-- Team Triple Threat</b></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;">A.K.A Geoff Wynkoop</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> </div> <!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro--><b><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo-->*** One Final NOTE: ***<!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--></b><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><br /> <div style="text-align: justify;"> <!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--fonto:Book Antiqua--><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><!--/fonto--><!--sizeo:3--><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><!--/sizeo--><!--coloro:midnightblue--><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--/coloro--></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><!--coloro:#0000ff--><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"><!--/coloro-->During this dissertation, I have cruelly for the sake of good story telling, and with a wicked sense of humor, been shamelessly Lampooning my Teammate and my good friend, Whitney , a.k.a. "Treasure". </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> Whitney is not in real life, like I have presented her. She truly a treasure of the heart, and I love her and her family dearly. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> So I would like to make it perfectly clear to all readers that she is "Not" nor ever has been a pyromaniac. She even gave up smoking recently.</span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> Nor at any time during the race, did she ever put anyone in a head-lock, other then metaphorically speaking. I am not entirely sure she even likes Wrestling. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> She is also not Paranoid, or beats on my head in frustration, but she doed encouragem me often to work faster. So, she is "Competitive" and Loves to win. ---But then of course, don't we all. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> I wrote this review in the spirit of love and fun, through the eyes of a man that tends to look at this world around us at oblique angles. And sees humor even in our defeat.</span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> It was written in order to please and delight the reader, and allow them to feel that they had traveled in our footsteps that day and experiencing all the fun, frustration and excitement that a Ravenchase Adventure can bring. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> So I humbly ask, and beg Whitney to forgive me for playing tongue and cheek with her, and ask her to only remember the Love I have for her. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> You are the true heart of our team Whitney. Our Hero. And as such, its greatest treasure. --- Thank you for being you… and all that you bring to the Game.</span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> XXX OOO</span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 100%;"><span style="color: midnightblue;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"> "Rass"<!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--colorc--></span><!--/colorc--><!--sizec--></span><!--/sizec--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--><!--fontc--></span><!--/fontc--> <br /></div>Rassilonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01721185481568744682noreply@blogger.com0