Since I didn't "remember" exactly which area was city-controlled, I guess I would have talked with Ghost Patrol folks before trying to use that area as a game site. And they would have warned me off. But that would have been some uncomfortable plan-changing along the way.
I didn't think to write a Book Report blog post about the book after I read it because, y'know, puzzle hunt SECRETS. Now I've blissfully forgotten most of it. Except for a general impression of "I wasn't expecting quite so much about grocery stores."
We knew the Shinteki folks ran excellent legit permitted games in San Francisco, so we asked their advice. Did we even need a permit for 100 people in a big park? If so, what kind of permit did we need, and how should we get it? Linda suggested that I head over to the Parks & Rec office in Golden Gate Park's Pioneer Cabin to ask around. This was probably good advice, though it didn't turn out so well…then again, it's not like there's some other plan that would have worked better—sorry, am I getting ahead of myself? I'm getting ahead of myself. Anyhow:
When I asked at the Pioneer Cabin, I just got a lot of shrugs. Folks suggested that I fill out a permit request form online. (I'd balked at doing this: it costs the applicant $60 for the city to process the form and I still didn't know if we'd need a permit.) And I should do it soon: in theory, I should have submitted it two months ahead of the event. For a little event like ours, probably one month would be enough. Fortunately, we still had a month. So…I'd visited an office, just to be told to fill out an online form. So… that wasn't so useful. You might wonder: Why do I still think Linda from Shinteki gave me good advice telling me to visit that office?
On my way out the door of the office, one of the workers chased me down and handed me a business card. The card was for a certain Parks & Rec worker who wasn't in the office that day. But she was a good person to talk to—maybe I should talk to her before I filed that form. It would be a pity to pay to file the form, only to find out that someone else had already reserved the park for the day. This worker would know whether the park was available.
I didn't do that—in theory, I was already late to file the form. Waiting a few more days for that lady to come back would have made us even later. But in hindsight, now I wish I'd waited. In hindsight, the impression that I get of these folks were that there were many of them who didn't know what was going on and a few who did. If you asked a question and none of the knowledgeable folks were around, all you got back were shrugs. In hindsight, I wish I'd gone to that cabin three months ahead of game day—two months for the form-time and a little extra wiggle room. And if I couldn't get answers to my questions, I would have had time to come back when one of the knowledgeable folks was back from vacation or whatever.
Instead, I filed the form. Several days later, someone from Parks & Rec looked at the form. After some back and forth, she had bad news: We couldn't use Washington Square as the start of our hunt because 100 people was too many to fit in that park. Folks who were at the hunt or folks familiar with that park (which takes up a city block) know it's plenty big enough to hold 1000 people, let alone 100.
So we came up with an alternate plan to have teams start the hunt at an intersection a few blocks away and then go to Washington Square. If the game didn't start in the park, maybe there would be room? The Parks folks had me submit a map of the park showing where I expected players to be. So I got to exercise my computer paint skills. I was kinda expecting the outcome of that to be a sheepish parks person saying "Oh, a hundred people? I misread the form and thought you had a hundred thousand people. Of course they'll all fit in the park." But this was not the case. Instead, the Parks folks wanted hundreds of dollars for costs including a bunch for re-seeding an area that players couldn't go to because it was fenced off so it could be reseeded after the Columbus Day Parade oh have I started ranting I promised myself I wasn't going to rant.
In the end, we ran the game without a parks permit. We started at Washington Square, not a few blocks away. Nobody hassled us; police saw us but didn't come over to ask about permits or anything. We had "too many" folks in Washington Square and the world didn't end. We collected money from teams, which I later on found out was against park rules, so I'd do that differently next time. Yeah, that and try harder to talk with a knowledgeable parks person ahead of time. (Or instead of filing a parks permit, just reserve a picnic table… if it's in a park with reserve-able picnic tables, unlike Washington Square.)
And I still don't know what the rules are for what sorts of events require a Parks permit.
- I know several people,
- Those people are nice, and
- There's a pretty sweet SF Bay Area solving setup
I had fun! I want say that early. Because as I spew out more notes, they're mostly notes to myself about things I want to do better next year. And so they're things where I wasn't satisfied with what I did. So it sounds like I wasn't satisfied with the hunt. But I was! I had a good time. Solving was fun. Hanging out with puzzle nerds was fun.
One skill I need to improve: sleeping during a hunt. I'm used to staying awake all hunt; I can stay functional for 36 hours, then catch up on sleep afterwards. But there's no way I can stay up 48+ hours. So I slept. Except I can't sleep when full of puzzle-solving excitement. Friday night, I tried to sleep but only cat-napped. Saturday, I was pretty bleary. Saturday night I really did sleep; I don't think I was getting better at sleeping, but previous sleep deprivation helped to put me under.
I mostly didn't move. I sat and solved. When I woke up each morning, I walked to the local coffee shop. This was partially for the espresso but partially just to force myself to get up and moving. One more-experienced puzzler went for a jog each day. That seems like a good idea. My body's used to exercise, and felt bad from lack thereof. I bet that a brisk evening stroll would have helped me sleep better on Friday night, e.g. At the time it didn't seem like I could just get up and take time for a walk: there were puzzles to do! But it's a marathon, not a sprint. It's not like the hunt ran out of puzzles before I ran low on energy to work on those puzzles.
I wish I'd brought a change of clothes; I wish I'd showered. Probably other folks wish I'd showered, too. I can make it through a 36-hour van hunt without getting too… Uhm, maybe let's skip the details, OK? But while I'm taking notes on what I want to do better next year, one is: bring a change of clothes and use it.
The first day, I helped a bunch. I did grunt work, I had some insights. The second day, I wasn't so useful. That was partially sleepy-headed-ness. But it was also the puzzles getting tougher. I did gruntwork, but had few insights. Let's hope the gruntwork I did freed up some smarter folks' time to swoop in with insights and solutions. Yes, let's hope.
My favorite puzzle that I worked on was probably All History is Local because [SPOILER REDACTED]. That was a second-day puzzle. Which just goes to show that even when I was a sleepyhead, I was still having fun.
Mostly, I looked at confusing puzzles. Our team was big and there were many, many puzzles. If there was an easy puzzle, probably other folks solved it quickly. And thus I never looked at it; it wouldn't have been helpful to do so. But if the first batch of folks to look at a puzzle couldn't solve it, then that puzzle stuck around. More folks would look at it, hoping to have the necessary "a-ha". So if you're an MIT Mystery Hunt puzzle author and you want a wide audience for your puzzles, make them impossible. (OMG don't do this.)
Because our team is bi-coastal, there's a lot of incentive to work online instead of on paper. If a Californian carefully decodes a stream of data only to realize that someone on-site at MIT needs to compare that data to some local wall carvings or what-have-you, it helps if that data is already some place where MIT folks can look at it. And if there's a confusing thing which you want 50+ team members to look at in hopes that one of them will have the "a-ha, these are all obscure superhero sidekick names" or whatever realization, it's easier to get that list in front of their eyeballs if it's already online. When I say "grunt-work", that means that often the first minutes of working on a puzzle was copy-pasting its contents into a shared workspace. In a neighborhood-scale hunt, in which you solve clues in half an hour, those minutes would be wasted. But when organizing dozens of solvers on a team to solve hundreds of puzzles, that time is well-spent.
A neat feat possible for a bi-coastal team playing a multi-day hunt: one team member solved a puzzle in California, hopped a plane to Boston, then kept solving puzzles at MIT.
Another neat feat for long hunts: Our team has a couple that both enjoy puzzlehunts; they have small kids. They play in shifts: one hunts while the other stays home watches kids. Partway through the hunt, they switch off. Thus, they appreciate it when the hunt structure gives some idea how long the hunt will last: they can trade places closer to the half-way mark.
Oh, and I want to remember to bring Mi-Del Ginger Snaps because they are (a) yummy and (b) not made with/near peanuts.