Defaced by Letterboxing?

Risks are inherent when you take to the trail. Sprained ankles are a possibility. Ticks are prevalent. And there's always the potential of passing into a potent patch of poison ivy. All these and more may happen to you on the letterbox trail... These risks are minor really.



But... none of these problems takes away the smallest bit of enjoyment from the wonderful hobby (obsession) we call letterboxing!



Would you believe it's possible to be defaced by letterboxing? Really it is! I'm not kidding!

I myself never would have believed it, until one fateful Saturday of boxing in late June...



Alas it was not permanent disfigurement. But "marked" nonetheless.



On this past Saturday afternoon. We, The Thompson Twins set out boxing in the southern half of Maine. We had read of a new fourteen box series in Buxton, Maine. And thought we could put together a nice day of boxing with this search as the centerpiece.



The series is called, "The Town Farm Park Trail Series" and we'd recommend it as a invigorating hunt. As the planter notes in their clue the trail is rough in places and in the process of being revitalized, but this little letterbox series is well worth your time. The stamps are creative and fun!



As we traveled down the trail our first hazard came in the form of swarming insect life. Mosquitoes, black flies and various other biting flies are abundant. We did not forget our bug spray but these were determined little blood-suckers! We absolutely enjoyed finding new boxes, but these flying phlebotomists looked for unprotected flesh to feast upon. You can tell the determination level of a mosquito by where and how often it bites. Well, these little buggers did not hesitate to try and bite me square upon the eyeballs... every 3 to 5 seconds. So on a scale of 1 to 10 of ferocity... 10 being the highest. I'd rate these mosquitoes about a 562! This my friends is not the disfigurement I mentioned earlier. Just a fun sideshow on the trail. Still we pressed on...



After our second or third box we settled into a steady rhythm of happy boxing bliss. Traversing creaky bridges, stepping through slightly muddy trail holes, and searching/stamping/and searching on and on! It was a wonderful day of boxing to say the least.





As we found a box I, Mr. Thompson Twins would ready the log book recording the number and name of the box then I'd hand the appropriate colored markers to the lovely Mrs. Thompson Twins. Between the two of us we have developed a smooth and efficient boxing technique.





Soon I noticed Mrs. Thompson Twins was removing her marker caps with her teeth, then coloring the stamp and deftly replacing the cap by guiding the open marker to her mouth and interfacing it expertly with it's removed cover. Quite amazing! But oh the chance she was taking, by doing this. I marveled at her bravery! (Remember this little snapshot later on... And I'm sure you'll soon see why.)





Just past the halfway point of the letterbox series we emerged from the thick wooded trail into a complex of ballfields. The eighth box was just to the right of one of the fields in the woods. As we stepped carefully through the trees we found the sought after box and settled down to stamp it into our logbook. The first color needed was a deep almost purple blue. Mrs. Thompson Twins again quickly removed the marker cap with her teeth and held it precariously there as she colored the stamp. I waited for her call for a 2nd color which did not come... Instead I heard a muffled exclamation. Something like, "Oh man! I can't believe I did that."





I looked up at my beautiful wife only to see her defaced and disfigured by her own hand! On her right cheek was a large mark not unlike a deep purple bruise. Disfigured on the letterbox trail! I couldn't believe it! No, not by bumping into a huge tree... No, not by tripping over an exposed root... No, not by banging into a mossy rock... Instead, poked in the face by the wet tip of a deep blue, watercolor marker.





We both chuckled (her first and I soon followed.) And then both gave the mark a spit bath. Something I hated when my mother did it to me as a kid. You know what I mean. Tongue to thumb, rubbed too hard on a dirty face. It worked somewhat. We removed most of the "marker bruise". By the time we continued on searching the defaced Mrs. Thompson Twins was a bit less defaced and a bit more cautious when returning the caps to our wet markers.





We finished our search. Headed back to the car with 14 new stamps in our logbooks. The smell of bug spray heavy in the air. And a fading blue, purple mark on one of our faces. And letterboxing memories we'd never forget.





Boxing in Buxton will never be the same. Thanks Buxton Boxers for a memorable letterbox hunt!