Delirious Ramblings

A Sign I'd Like to See

Aspen grove information sign, October 2011

The road to Lockett Meadow was open for less than a month when I noticed that people had already started defacing the aspen trees along the Inner Basin trail again. Sad. Makes me wish I could place a few carefully worded aspen conservation signs along the trail.

The Wrath of the Gummy Bears

Escudilla Mountain, Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest, August 2011

So they're finally releasing details about the two people who started the catastrophic Wallow Fire that burned 538,000 acres of Arizona's beautiful White Mountains last May and June. It's a pretty standard story: a couple of boneheads didn't properly extinguish their campfire before they went on a hike, only to find the whole area engulfed in flames upon their return. But the part that caught my attention was the pair's pathetic little litmus test to see if the fire was out before leaving: One of them threw an empty Gummy Bear wrapper on the ashes of the fire and when it didn't shrivel up or melt they decided the fire was out and left.

Think about that for a second: The fate of 700+ square miles of forest hung in the balance for less than a second... hinged upon a freakin' Gummy Bear wrapper!

I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

The difference a second makes

Today during my lunchtime walk around campus some dude hit me with his big jacked-up pickup. I don't think I'm hurt - mostly I'm just shaken up - but if I'd left the office even a second earlier he'd have knocked me off the sidewalk into traffic where I'd have almost certainly been killed or seriously injured. It's probably better not to think too deeply about how that alternate scenario might've turned out...

What was interesting about the guy driving the truck was that it wasn't some college punk chit-chatting on a cellphone like you'd expect. Instead it was a respectable looking middle-aged guy with a beard, probably rushing back to the office after a late lunch. When he realized what he'd done (my guess is that it was the sound of my arm and shoulder smacking the hood of the truck that clued him in) he looked directly at me and then gunned the engine and sped off.

What the fuck??

Of course I was too shocked and surprised to take a picture or try to memorize the license plate number. Oh, well. Maybe the driver is sitting in his office right this moment worrying that the police are looking for a hit and run driver. And then there's always karma.

Still, I keep thinking about what a difference that one second made.

Jackassery at the Weatherford Trailhead

After doing some birding on the Weatherford Trail Sunday I returned to the trailhead parking lot to this dumbfounding scene:

Apparently parking in the established parking area ten feet away was too girly-man for this rugged outdoorsman. The Forest Service ranger who was writing the ticket you can see tucked under the wiper blade didn't agree.

[ and no, that's not my Jeep! ]