On my visits to the park, I became fascinated by the growing number of locks secured to this bridge. After some research, I knew I had to place a cache here.
You’re looking for a black bison tube inside a key safe. You’ll need a 3-digit code to get the cache open. Be careful opening the lock so nothing falls into the river and watch for muggles. BYOP and have fun!
As legend has it, a pair of Serbian lovers is the inspiration for the romantic tradition displayed before you. School teacher Nada and her love Relja, an officer in the Serbian army, would meet on a certain bridge near base, each night at dusk, to walk and dream and do what young lovers do. With the onset of World War I, Relja was reassigned to a post in Greece. Their walks on the bridge grew more important and more emotional as the time for Relja’s departure neared. The lovers’ final meeting on the bridge was a moment of grieving affection and whispered promises of a sweet, blissful reunion. “I’ll wait for you,” she whispered. “I’ll stay true to you,” he promised. They embraced. As he turned back toward the barracks, their eyes locked one final time. With each slow step he took, their hands slackened their grips on each other until pressing fingertips finally parted.
Relja was never to return.
But it was not the war that consumed him. He forgot Nada and found comfort in the arms of a peasant woman on the island of Corfu. When Nada learned of Relja’s unfaithfulness, her heart was crushed. Despite the efforts of well-meaning friends and countless suitors, Nada became a bitter woman, never loving again. She would see other couples walking together on her bridge, occasionally overhearing hushed assurances of fidelity. Pausing in her purposed gait, she would lean over and whisper a warning to the woman: “War changes men. Make sure he secures his love before he leaves or you’ll never see him again.” The startled couple would wonder at her words and watch as Nada resumed her slow, lonely march across the bridge.
Nada, of course, meant an engagement ring as a sign of commitment. Most understood that, but few of the soldiers could afford jewelry on such short notice. Instead, they used what they had on hand: padlocks from their personal footlockers. Securing the padlock to the railing of the bridge at their final meeting, couples would commit their love to one another, the gentleman soldier taking the key with him and promising, upon his return, to remove the lock together. The lady trusted that the key would remind him of his word.
As legends spread and traditions grow, changes inevitably occur (including some of the creatively added details above). Some couples write their names on the locks, akin to carving initials in a tree. Others throw the key into the river below symbolizing the permanence of their love. Whatever the twist, the tradition spread, and since the 2000s, has taken off virally nearly all over the world. In Paris, for example, love locks became so popular, and numerous, that in June of 2014, part of the Pont des Arts bridge collapsed under their combined weight. Some governing bodies have deemed this practice dangerous and are taking action to outlaw it. San Marcos, however, has not yet decided. And so, we have this cache.
One of the locks in front of you is the cache you seek. I placed it to express my love for geocaching and my fascination with this ever more popular romantic tradition. Happy hunting!
You can read more by googling "Nada and Relja" or "love locks." Pictured below is the bridge in Serbia now known as The Bridge of Love. Look at the thousands of locks that have been secured here!
To crack the code, call the following gentleman soldiers who stayed true to their lovely ladies: Lukos, Uri, and Viktor. Make sure you call them in that order.
Note: Digit dials are under the black cover on top of the lock. Once the correct code is entered, press on the front half of the lock to get it to open.
UPDATE 8/21/2015: If you read previous logs, you'll find that someone broke the locking box mentioned above. Today, I removed the broken lock. Whoever it was that broke into it was probably disappointed at finding only a baggie and a sheet of paper. He or she also left me part of the Swiss Army-ish screwdriver blade used to break my lock. I feel a little vindicated in that their tool broke.
I looked for more than an hour for a spot to hide a replacement that wouldn't be so obvious to would-be vandals and other muggles. I couldn't find anything I liked, so for now, it's a been-there-seen-that cache. Please claim a smiley just for visiting, seeing the locks, and enjoying the view. If you have suggestions for hiding an identical lock, please email me and I'll consider it.
