A 12-year-old cache placed by Cache Owner raiderdad drops us north of London, home of raiderkids.

Old farm machinery nods sleepily from the retirement home, waiting for time to take its toll.

Down the road in Lafayette, history rules, in a brick building so solid two centuries could not move it. As practical and sturdy as its own name, the Red Brick Tavern stays mute on other names it might drop, from Adams, Harrison, and Tyler, to Taylor, and Harding. Here those who aimed for the seat at the top lay down to rest on their bumpy, National Road journey across Ohio.

While shooting stars rose and fell in the political galaxy, people of Ohio came to the Tavern for birthdays, reunions, anniversaries, and every celebration of life. When the Tavern was purchased and remodeled last year, joy rebounded across social media, with 795 shares.

In the other direction, Presidents who worked to stretch roads, then canals, then railroads, and then airports across this land might admire the slowly creeping warehouses feasting on the soil.

Arterial networks pulse with the beat of goods flowing at warp speed from eyes to screen to mouse to click to credit card to warehouse to truck to driver and back to eyes. Township trustees rezone land, already tired from corn and soybean overfarming, into warehousing.

Coordinates circle to a GR, soundlessly being itself. Previous cachers answer to a roll call worthy of a Disneyland parking lot: MO, KS, IN, CA, WA, IL, FL, IA, PA, OK!

Wildlife also come calling to greet the Two-leggeds, insisting on shared partnership when the log is signed. Logs record a lazy squirrel multi-tasking between sunbathing and guard duty. Turkey buzzards watch cachers hungrily. And five deer enlist, all signing the log as Bambi.

On our way home, aliens pulse from the darkness, newly landed to meet our every need and want, at a click.

We drink a last long breath of sunset spilled across fields still free.