2009-03-02 32 -96

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Mon 2 Mar 2009 in 32,-96:
32.7978503, -96.5216351

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This geohash, in the Dallas, Texas graticule was in agricultural land in the community of Sunnyday, just north of highway 80.

(Lack of) Planning[edit]

You didn't think it took me (Robyn) the whole three minutes of preparation time to scrawl directions to the Quitman geohash, did you? I also had time to write 32 -95 E. Fork Rd. on my piece of paper. The same piece of paper that showed my my 3:15 p.m. flight time, and had the directions to where I had to drop off the rental car written on it. But delays getting the rental car ensured that I would not have time to attempt a geohash in the Dallas graticule. I mean what kind of idiot geohashes when she has to catch an airplane?

I wanted to enter it into the GPS though, just to see how close I would pass to it. So I could think of it fondly. I adjusted one digit in the coordinates of the previous geohash and hit Go To. It said 1.84 km. And the next exit said East Fork Rd.


You know what kind of idiot does this. Her picture is at the bottom of the page. There will be more airplanes leaving this exact same airport going to the same other airports every day. This geohash will be here only once, only today. And it's right here! How can you argue with that kind of logic? I take the exit.

My very quick glance at this graticule's geohash showed me that it was not exactly on East Fork Road, but pretty close, with what looked like a field in between. With a lot of luck it would be a soccer pitch and I could run in and nab it. I exited onto a one-way road and wanted to be going to other way, so I took a couple of rights and soon found myself at East Fork Road, but dead-ended 716 metres from the hashpoint, at a chained gate where the road dead-ended through a field of cows. Again there was no explicit no trespassing signs, and I didn't see a bull, but I didn't even have time to be here, let alone be explaining to a rancher with a shotgun (this is Texas, where those stereotypes come from) what I was doing slaloming through his cows. I settled for a couple of consolation pictures and jumping back in the car. The cows started coming towards me as I was putting my seatbelt on, so perhaps they thought I was coming to feed them.


I made the flight, completing check in four minutes before the cutoff, and I know they enforced the cutoff strictly, because as I arrived I heard them refusing to check in a passenger for a flight that left ten minutes before mine. I am fairly confident that, even pursued by angry cows, I could not run 1.4 km in four minutes, so I made the correct decision in not going over the fence.