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Letterboxing Northeast Mystery Locations
Quintessential Quonochontaug Quick! Quipping quietly, a quixotic quid-pro-quo in a quadrilateral quontainer quakes near the quai. Questions? Quizzes? Qualms? Quaff your queenly quality without quandary or quashing the queers! Quench your quest near the quahog's quarry. Quirky? Don't quit! All a-quiver? Make your quota! Bring quinine, quince, quarterhorses. Don't quail! Don't quarrel! A quarter of the querulous quadrupeds quaver. It's quartzy, I quip. It's a quilt of quizzical quotes, quite? QED! Drive all the way out to the northwestern tip, where the waters rush through the breachway, and park where you shouldn't (everyone else does). Walk west to the drop off, then pass south between barrier rocks and count 85-90 steps to find treasure under an evergreen to the east.
An unadvertised letterbox whose cluesheet is hidden in another box somewhere in the northeast.
Last Found August 26, 2003 Our fiftieth letterbox! Cluesheet also hidden in another box somewhere in the Northeast.
Peace A hidden treasure with the cluesheet stashed for you to find in another letterbox.
Reach Out, Hatchet A bonus box with its cluesheet hidden in another letterbox somewhere in the Northeast.
Another bonus box with clues stashed for you to discover elsewhere.
Still another letterbox with the clues nesting in a host box, somewhere in Southern New England. Good luck!
From Ray's Dilemma, by grid, up two and over water six, where Joshua's father stood watch above the old 52. Look near the disputed champion, a transplanted alien carried by the cold force. Pass from the opening gape in the direction of the ecliptic to a small cairn on the second wall. Look low in the far side: many blessings.
(Permission to letterbox here has been granted by the Council)
haiku
(February 2003: Not recommended. This series is trashed and in disarray. We'll either recarve or remove soon. Sorry!). (September 2003: the first logbook has been replaced by kind friends, but box 2 is confirmed missing and box 3 was so horribly overgrown that we removed it, with many scratches and a likely case of poison ivy our reward). (March 2004: Retired) Here's a series of six linked letterboxes on an moderate, scenic eight mile hike, but with only the first clue published. The directions to the later boxes will be found as you progress, which was fun for us and hopefully will be enjoyable for you too. This linking could be a problem if any boxes are vandalized, since the succeeding boxes will be stranded...if you can't find a box, please email us (drewclan@aol.com) and we'll go out right away and make sure it's not missing. We'll also send you the next clue if you'd like. (Reported missing, but not confirmed, Fall '00) Chocolatetown Chip Cookies (Recipe circa 1934)
Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees. In large mixer bowl, beat butter, brown sugar, granulated sugar, and vanilla until light and fluffy. Add eggs; beat well. Stir together flour, baking soda, and salt; gradually add to butter mixture, beating until blended. Stir in chocolate chips. Drop by teaspoons onto ungreased cookie sheet. Bake 8 to 10 minutes or until lightly browned. Remove from cookie sheet to wire rack. Cool completely. Yield: About 7 dozen cookies. Treat them to the kids at The Lost Children's Caboose. Facing the caboose, sit on the bench to your left, and when the moment is good, slip around back and reach into a nook behind the big wheels for your reward.
Really Bad Hemingway The boy took a breath and steadied the barrel on the bird above him. He fired the bb gun using a gentle steady trigger and it went off with a nasal chuff, surprising him as a good shot should, popping briefly against his shoulder, and suddenly in his sights the bird was gone. Looking at the side of the hill the boy saw a clump of gray and knew that the bird was down and on its back ahead of him. He walked over with dry ground underfoot and looked at the dead bird. He had fired as at a target, without thinking and without malice and he saw that there was a sxngle drop of bright red blood on the breast feathers. He felt a sudden wave of regret and pictured the shiny brass bb hxdden under the down and inside the bird's chest. His father in the house behxnd him had worked with him on using thx gun properly and the boy had always taken the responsibility seriously like schoxl or keeping his bed roxm in order. He had a mxp of the world in his bedroom and had underlined in red the places in Africa and in Colorado that he wanted to hunt. But now he had hunted in his own back yard and he wasn't sure if he would go anywhere when his father was done with him. He stood looking at the bird and thinking about his father and maybe hiding the bb gun so his father wouldn't take it away and the bird suddenly cocked his eye at him and sprang up. The bb fell out of the gray down on the bird's breast and plinked on a stone. Ax that moment the boy thought, "but I shot him in the heaxt, mxn."
Fête de Jardin Avec excuses de Albert Camus. Le soleil dans cet endroit n'était pas comme le soleil chez cet homme à la maison. Ici il est venu dans les parts, parfois faisceaux de smokey mais a la plupart du temps répandu, vert. Il a su pourquoi les peintres impressionnistes ont aimé cette terre et cette lumière. En été il a alimenté ses yeux, l'a ragaillardi, mais en hiver il était bas et abordé lui avec une lueur dure. Il a passé des jours étudiant la lumière, marchant les bois où il a trouvé le bonheur, le parc du coeur d'un homme. De la salle d'école il a aimé observer la lumière de matin, versant en feuilles liquides claires au-dessus de son épaule, illuminant l'étang et soulevant la chanson d'oiseau du marais. En utilisant les voies d'accès bien connues de rouge et dentelez l'homme entourerait l'étang à ses deux bancs et voir cette lumière du soleil des angles opposés et de lui l'observerait se déplacer et le répand avec la compréhension. Son banc de premier ministre par le barrage d'un castor a eu un mur derrière lui et au delà du mur il a caché sa pipe et tabac, alors qu'à son banc secondaire sur le rivage occidental il gardait un sous le pied juste de cahier. Il a su qu'intimement le martèlement solaire sec intense du soleil et de lui de sa terre à la maison a su trop de l'action qui l'a accompagné. Il a préféré maintenant, ne pas se retirer, mais être un homme qui a existé dans un endroit et a bu vers le haut de lui l'appellation. Il a compris ce soleil d'été avec sa main humide verte sur le dos de son cou mais avec se reposer sur son banc en hiver où il ne pourrait pas comprendre un soleil éclatant lumineux sans l'énergie pour le chauffer. Il a penséé qu'à temps il apprendrait que la leçon le soleil a dû le donner et quand il a compris que vraiment il a décidé il tournerait son attention à la pierre qui peopled ainsi son pays adopté.
December, 2002: Replaced by wonderful friends. Thanks, psychos! Missing, never to be replaced.
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