A Short History of Letterboxing by Grumpy

A Short History of Letterboxing

It was during the summer of ‘54

When James Perrott tramped out to old Dartmoor.

He carried a bottle, and into it slid

A gentleman’s card, he discreetly hid.

So hikers who wandered to far Cranmere Pool

Would exchange calling cards, and then off to the stool

Of the nearest warm pub, to exchange their brash tales

Of the hike and the search and the perilous trails.

O’er decades the hobby became orthodox,

The bottle replaced with a box, under rocks,

And a logbook and stamp so the hikers could show

They’d successfully made it to Cranmere, although

This hobby grew painfully, achingly slow.

It was forty-four years ‘til the third box was seen

And then one twenty two ‘til they totaled fifteen.

It was only by then that a new map revealed

Where those fifteen moor boxes had all been concealed.

Nineteen eighty found thousands of boxes in place

And thousands of boxers had entered the race.

Then in nineteen hundred and ninety eight,

Smithsonian Mag, in what had to be Fate,

Wrote of these curious, strange British chaps,

Odd hobbyists carrying stamps, clues and maps.

Americans took to it, gave it their twists

With internet, chat groups, and plant-and-found lists.

A website soon followed called LbNA

Which listed all boxes wherever they lay.

An itinerant programmer, Ryan by name,

Founded AQ and it quickly became

The forum within which each boxer reviews

Most questions, successes, some failures, and clues.

From Britain’s dank moors this strange hobby has grown

And countless Americans call it their own.

Guided by simple rules, one, two, and three.

The golden rule, one, is a plain as can be.

“There are no rules” sums it up very nicely.

And if rules two and three start to limit your fun,

You always refer back to rule number one.

Twice a year when Americans alter their clocks

We celebrate kinship with all those who box.

We gather together, our odd company,

Sharing stories and boxes and carved artistry.

Grumpy