"Stay in the car," I told my daughters.It wasn't like they could get out. They were buckled into their car seats, and soaking wet, but the command increased the drama.So did the rain, which was coming down in barrels, one of those noon monsoons that creeps up and slays a glorious day.We were parked on the northern end of Davis Islands, on a dirt road beside the Davis Islands Garden Club. We had followed 18 letterboxing clues with precision -- we found the red fire hydrant, counted the cracks in the sidewalk, located the old birdbath -- when the rain started falling and the girls started crying. I snatched them up and ran back to the car, then drove to the final leg of the adventure.Letterboxing is a mix of hiking, treasure hunting and puzzle solving that has become a family pastime since my wife heard about it from a friend.Several Web sites, such as Letterboxing North America (letterboxing.org) and Atlas Quest (atlasquest.com) , organize lists of clues by state, region and neighborhood.You print the clues, then follow them from point to point until you find the hidden letterbox, typically a weatherproof container bearing a small notebook and a stamp.You stamp the hidden notebook with your own personalized stamps and stamp your notebook with the letterbox stamp.We were this close to finding the Davis Islands letterbox, left by a letterboxer named "Ye Mystic Pirate," when the sky opened.The girls wanted to go home.I wanted to finish, to teach them a lesson about persistence.I checked the sopping printout in my hands a final time.19. Do you see the ridge of trees? Go stand atop it, if you please.20. Now add the four digits of the birdbath date, and then add 2 more, for good luck's sake.21. Using this number as your guide, walk across the ridge counting the pine trees at your side. When you've counted as many pines as the number you seek, freeze right there -- so to speak.22. Now trot right down to the seaside rocks, where a friendly old tree protects the precious box.I switched the windshield wipers higher and counted the pines out loud. I saw what I thought was the friendly old tree."That's it," I said.The girls wished me luck.I sprinted through the rain and fell to my knees at the base of a tree, a few feet from the channel. Lightning cracked around me as I cast aside leaves and sticks.Nothing.Maybe I had the wrong tree? I noticed a suitcase beside a nearby tree. I unzipped it and found only wet clothes. This presented a mystery I had no time for. I ran back to the original tree and scanned it up and down. I moved some more leaves.Nothing.I ran back to the car to find the girls with puzzled looks on their faces."I didn't find it," I said, checking the list of clues again. "It wasn't there."Asher, her hair matted and her tutu wet, spoke up."It's okay, daddy," she said. "Let's just go home."It felt like we had lost.As we drove away, I wondered if they'd remember this day, their old man soaking wet, checking and rechecking the clues like a madman.I hope they do.Ben Montgomery can be reached at bmontgomery(at)sptimes.com. For more stories visit scrippsnews.com
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