Saturday evening, TRC and I had a chance to sit down and play some more Minecraft together. I’ve gotten to the point that my character’s pretty blinged out: full diamond armor, all of it with level 30 enchants. Let’s just say that Endermen run when they see me coming. I’ve got a horse, a cattle ranch, a sheep farm, and a lair with a secret entrance powered by Redstone.
I’m living the Minecraft dream.
So I asked TRC what he wanted help with now. His answer? He wanted pumpkins. If we could get a pumpkin patch going, we could start doing some other cool things, like . . . I can’t remember what. Make golems? No clue. As with most things Minecraft, I’m basically on board to prove to my son that I’m a cool dad. If the boy wants a pumpkin patch, then by golly, I’m going to get one for him.
The game plan was simple. TRC was going to stay back at the base, and I was going to head out exploring. Whenever nighttime rolled around, I’d log out, he’d jump in bed (to reset the clock), and then I’d log back in and keep going. That way, we’d have minimal downtime. I’d head in west until I found a pumpkin. Easy enough, right?
I traveled days in game. I built two separate boats, sailed across vast oceans, encountered wolves and rabbits and vast chasms running with magma. I loaded up on some rare moss covered stone, and picked flowers of various shapes and colors. I fought off a Creeper or two, and I had many adventures.
I did not, however, find any pumpkins.
The farther I went, the more I began to realize that for every day I was traveling, I’d need another day to get back to our base. Just how committed was I? TRC began to lose hope. Maybe our world had no pumpkins. Maybe this was a lost cause.
And then, disaster. After having traveled on foot non-stop for such a long time, I realized I was getting sick to my stomach. At first I thought it was from something I ate. Then I thought I was coming down with something. But then I realized the truth: staring at a Minecraft screen that was in constant motion for so long had made me carsick.
And I still had to get back home.
I turned south, hoping that I could make a giant loop and come across pumpkins that way. Maybe I’d find a village, and I’d be able to steal pumpkins. I was getting desperate. And it was getting late in real life.
There were more adventures, of course. But they all ended the same way: me with no pumpkin. In the end, I made it back in one piece, but the expedition was a complete failure. Our garden continues to be depressingly pumpkin-free.
Maybe next time, I’ll head east instead . . .