A Cacher's Letter to Santa
By Torry Stiles, aka Torry
Dear Santa I know, when you pull out your book,
You'll see that I've been good. Just take a look.
I've always cached with the greatest of care,
Been kind to the flower, tree and bear.
Avoided the rangers, brought out my trash,
Kept quiet in the woods, avoided the rash.
I think I deserve to be treated nice.
So, write this stuff down and please get it right.
I want all the latest, greatest of toys,
The stuff that lights up and makes lots of noise.
A solid steel GPSr that never gets lost.
An eternal battery that will never be tossed.
Big bags of beef jerky that never give gas,
A permanent all weather, lifetime park pass.
Hiking boots that make my feet smell sweet
And a pen that writes in rain and sleet.
Pencils that never grow short and stumpy,
A sleeping bag that'll never be lumpy.
A water bottle that will fill itself,
And special pills for good bowel health.
Mapping software that shows the best way
And a cache dog partner that'll never stray.
A magic wand to make the spouse not mind
When a three-hour hike produces a "Did Not Find."
A flashlight that can light up the woods
To show the right path that leads to the goods.
A gas card, a phone card, a credit card and more
So I can cache even more than I can ever afford.
These things, dear Santa, I beg you to mail me.
Or bring them yourself, please do not fail me.
Or if you want to save your sled wear and tear,
Just set them outside in some old Tupperware.