22-24
		Where? Oh Where?
		Somewhere in New Jersey
		03/10/2002
		1 1/2 hours of easy hiking.
		NOTE (03/28/07): This box has unfortunately disappeared. But, don't panic--there are plenty of other boxes to find! We'll be leaving this clue up on the website as a permanent memorial to a bygone era. We always headed out on our hikes in the early mornings and my Dad told me stories about the place we were going to visit. My favorite story happens to be about the place we’re going to today. He told me how very long ago this beautiful high place was first bought from the Lenni-Lenape and then granted to settlers and how the Indian Princess Wetumka prevented its settlers from being massacred because she was in love with one of them. Once we were out of that terrible traffic, we headed to the northern end of the big water following the way that Tracy led and stopped our car there to begin our journey. Today, our journey begins as soon as I jump out of the car. I can’t wait to get going, but I’ll try to be patient while you read up on some Dredging and then some Watershed facts. Now I’m anxious. Please take the trail at 336 degrees and let’s get started. You’re looking confused, so I’ll give you this one. After that, you’re on your own. I’ll tell the story-you follow along. Cross over that bridge and we’ll continue. It was quite wet the last time we were here and there were horseshoe prints in the mud. Horses are big and big animals scare me. Lucky for me, we came to a path that took us in reverse and away from the horses. Before we turned, Dad stopped. He always stops at the red. Then, he made a call on his cell phone. Red is my favorite color, by the way. We walked down this path. I lost count of how many paces I took, but Dad said it was 75 as we came to the second step. It was here, when I looked away at 196 degrees, I saw a most horrifying sight—the Loch Ness Monster. Dad stood there laughing at me and told me it was just a tree trunk in the water. I kept looking at that monster and saw that Dad was right. The trees here sure took on confusing shapes. "Then," I thought, "if that’s not the Loch Ness Monster, that other one over there to the West is not a Big Daddy holding his little baby either." Dad held me and called me his little sprout. Still laughing, he reminded me that even the biggest, roughest, and towering man’s heart could be found whenever he held a baby in his arms, even if his heart was hidden under a pile of rocks. Once Dad's heart was found and I was calm and most of all, the horses had passed; we went back up to where we turned away from the horses and continued on our way. I guess by now I should introduce myself. My name is...W.... Sorry, I got sidetracked. We came to a Y and had to decide which way to go. Being as willful as I am, I wanted to run up the hill, but Dad would not let me. It was a tug-of-war, but he won this time and we headed over the big water. Now, where was I? Oh yes, my name... Another intersection. Oh boy. Decisions, decisions. The drainage ditch looked like a fun place, but Dad wouldn't let me go in it. Instead, we went over it and our decision was made. We continued on our way and the Blazen Foxes assured us we were on the right track. We headed south 25 paces before what was left of a split rail fence. We followed this winding path for a while. I jumped over logs and Dad went around them. We separated a few times, but we joined up again and continued side by side. When it seemed we could not go any further, Dad found a way to cross the creek. A good wide tree trunk was our bridge. They say a rolling stone gathers no moss and from the looks of this group they had not rolled in a very long time. Three towering sentinels stood vigil over them as they slumbered. A rest seemed in order for us too. So, I settled myself in a little nook and decided to tell you my name. We continued South toward a fence that I think penned in those big, mean horses. Dad said he would carry me, but I wanted to walk. Together we went up to the fence and onto a path that led to an open field and then onto a dark gray gravel road. That was much better; at least it was not wet and muddy. I hate getting my feet wet and should have let him carry me. We could have gone in either direction and we looked to each other for guidance. Dad flipped a coin and I called heads. Secretly, I was hoping we would go in any direction that would get us away from that fence and the horses. Luckily, I won. And we headed North West. We continued, unsure of where we were, but came upon a familiar sight. "Look" He said. "That’s where we parked." That meant nothing to me since I was on a mission and had one last place to go. One road led to the car and two roads would have taken us back to where the horses were. So, I did the only thing I could to complete my mission—I headed south again and Dad tagged along. The end of my journey was near and I could see the long day coming to an end. The road was climbing slightly and I was I very tired. My gaze was to the ground and I saw a tree to the East obviously agreeing with me and yawning. I had to investigate and it looked like a good place to curl up in. While I sniffed around it, something suddenly caught my attention. Off I went at 240 degrees. You’d think that with all these trees any dog would be in her glory, but like I told you red was my favorite color.

And now, the fine print: Waiver of Responsibility and Disclaimer: Letterboxing, like any outdoor sport, carries the risk of various and unforseen hazards (including, but not limited to, deer ticks and poison ivy). The Perfect Circle Letterboxing Guild support a policy of not knowingly placing letterboxes in areas that will create undue risk to the letterbox hunter. However, as conditions may vary, it is the responsibility of the letterbox searcher to become thoroughly familiar with the conditions in the area to be searched, to adequately prepare for those conditions, and to conduct oneself safely and responsibly with respect to those conditions and with respect to his or her personal abilities and limitations. The Perfect Circle Letterboxing Guild and the individual letterbox sponsors assume no liability for events which may occur related directly or indirectly to one's searching for a letterbox. Do not let children hunt for letterboxes unsupervised. By reading and utilizing this letterbox clue, you acknowledge the above conditions, and accept responsibility for your own actions, and agree to hold non-liable the clubs and clue writers/box sponsors, and further, agree to provide this disclaimer to any person with whom you share these letterbox clues.