PUZZLED IN VANCOUVER  by Susannah Sears  CONT'D....
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"I went to a convention in Atlanta that summer, and just fell in love with the group. I love engaging my brain, solving puzzles and playing games. Having other people with whom I can do this is just great. I think it's a blast."

That joy is obvious as he fits the final solution into a cryptic crossword he's been solving with another member.

"Ruche!" he shouts the answer, racing toward her through the hotel lobby. "I looked it up, and it does mean a ruffle!"

Sturtevant does not have to go far for confirmation. It's a safe bet the hotel has never contained so many dictionaries at once. Several members have portable versions with them at all times.

"It has given me a whole new way of thinking," says new member Steve Gelhorn, known as Niblits. "I am always having to look up stuff in the dictionary, so I learn new words all the time. It's really added to my vocabulary."

Rigby has created three incredibly elaborate games that will force players to take their dictionaries beyond the lobby, at least for a few hours. Each is a puzzle tour of a popular recreation site, sort of a written scavenger hunt in which solutions are found by warping the words on landmarks and signs. Through a complex code, the years of Shakespeare's birth and death (1564 and 1616) become letters spelling "Bard" and "Dane." These solvers know The Bard's Dane is 'Hamlet.' and so, fit that word into another, more cryptic maze of letters.
All three tours ultimately lead to the same question:

"What other attraction brings people to British Columbia?"

The answer: "Whistler's Mother Nature."

Once solved, it seems simple, but for NPLers, who are overwhelmingly American, the name of B.C.'s most popular ski resort becomes a new nugget of knowledge they file away for future use. Dozens of members have already cashed in on their command of esoteric information, appearing on such TV shows as Jeopardy! and Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.

When seven competitors unravel a Stanley Park riddle with an hour to spare before dinner, they board a sightseeing trolley that winds through the rest of the park. As the tour operator points out attractions, the NPLers point out missed clues from the puzzle. On the walk back to the hotel, the group breaks into an impromptu anagram challenge.

"What word can be made from the letters in 'bean soup'?"

It takes less than a minute for everyone to form the word "subpoena."

Such a scene will probably never appear alongside bathing beauties and Caribbean cocktails in an ad for a dream destination, but for these people, that's exactly what an NPL convention is. Picciotto, who has recruited more than a dozen members, is always on the lookout for these types. He holds monthly Enigma brunches, in which starting solvers are eased into the complexities of NPL puzzles.

"In general, people aren't interested," he says. "When I run into somebody who seems like they would enjoy them, I feel like I am doing them a favour. Typically they have this interest, but can't find anyone to share it with."

Thirty-four-year-old Adrienne Siskind Berns, also known as Panther, recruited more than a solving partner through The Enigma. The Virginia software engineer met her future husband three years ago while playing an online strategy game, and decided to test his puzzle potential by showing him the latest issue.
"By the time we talked next, he had actually solved a couple of flats -- the ones my team was working on," she says. "I didn't know if he was doing it to impress me or whether he was actually interested, but it turned out he was."

The two have been solving together ever since. Sturtevant, who also teams up to tackle each Enigma, says puzzling in pairs cuts solving time.

"Sometimes, I'll look at a puzzle and see the answer pretty soon, and sometimes my co-solver will do the same thing. Sometimes it's only by our combined efforts that pieces of the puzzle come together, and that's a real rush."

For NPLers who live far away from other members, and who can't wait a year for contact with co-solvers, a chat room session is scheduled two nights per week. In it, members compare notes on Enigma solutions, fine-tune flats and convention games, and chat about everything puzzle-related. The words about wordplay often continue until early morning. It is perhaps the only place on the Internet where you can get half a dozen decent anagrams of "Tegucigalpa" in less time than it takes most people to remember that it's the capital of Honduras.

The convention officially ends Sunday morning, and next year's begins -- at least symbolically. Organizers can't find a torch, so they pass a box of pencils to the host of the 2003 event in Indianapolis. A few members have picked up small prizes for their quick completion of quizzes, but no one seems to care much about the rankings. The mood is sombre as most convention-goers head to the airport, reluctantly taking off their Nom tags and making last- minute address exchanges. A die-hard dozen or so remain, however, mostly the same people who were holed up in the hospitality suite Friday. As hotel staff move past them to clear discarded puzzles and programs, the group gathers in the lobby, intent on fitting more games into their remaining hours. An organizer brings down a pushcart full of leftover snacks, and they grab some cookies and cola. The box of wine stays unopened, though. After five days of intense mental effort, these puzzlers' minds are as sharp as ever.
If you would like to find out more about the wonderfully clever people of the National Puzzlers' League, PLEASE CLICK HERE.