With only a few hundred yards to go, I pick up my pace to finish the trail run with some serious huffing and puffing when I see him. Standing near the parking lot is a man in uniform, mirrored sunglasses and hands on his hips. Not wanting to make eye contact, I glance out the side of my sunglasses as I run past and offer a token, but very phony sounding, "Good morning." Thumping music blaring from my earbuds prevent hearing any response as I don't even break stride.
I knew the trails were closed. A temporary, half-assed sign told me so, but I went around it. It's not that I felt above the law, it's just that I understood the stupid knee jerk reaction that precipitated the decision and found the closure absurdly preposterous. While stretching at my car, I notice in the paint's reflection that the man in uniform is quickly stomping up behind me. I pop my earbuds out and spin to greet him. His droopy gut jiggles over his duty belt as he assails me for defying his authority.
Being very heated, and topped off with a finger that rudely points and scolds, he barks how he had repeatedly commanded me to stop and I just ran away from him. He does not want to listen to how music prevented my hearing him as he demands my name and other information. He barges back to his Park Ranger truck.
Swell, I'm getting a ticket...
He was a baby-faced, fat kid that probably never experienced any type of authority and took it very personally that someone had defied him. We all know, or at least have heard about such a person, being "badge heavy."
He waddled back to me, with uniform pants way too short, and had me sign the trespassing ticket. Then, as if to rub salt in my exposed wound, he proceeded to lecture me that the network of trails were closed since flooding rains had made it far too dangerous. Really? Like his fat ass has personally witnessed any of the damage? His condescending treatment began to raise my hackles until I had enough of being berated.
"Look!" I interrupted the annoying little boy. "I'll happily pay this $50 ticket and next time, you won't catch me...I'll just trot back up into the canyon. I'm willing to wager that you haven't even seen the damage up on the trails. There are 2 substantional washouts, a couple smaller ones and some trivial damage that I already fixed. Which reminds me, stay here a moment while I draft you a bill. You guys owe me for all the hours I spent on the trails during the flooding storms rolling rocks, digging out culverts, unplugging bridges, dragging fallen trees off the trail, and using sticks as shovels to divert water off the trails to prevent excessive erosion. Plus, my letters to your superiors got the port-a-potty here at the parking lot to reduce the impact of trail users soiling the open space during their outings. In fact, during the last major diluge of rain, I came off the mountain and encountered your supervisor who eagerly asked my route and wanted updates of conditions." I wanted to continue, but was interrupted as another trail runner ran past us.
"Stop!" demanded the ranger. "I need to talk to you!"
"Keep going," I heartily cheered, "he's just gunna give you a ticket!"
"What?" questioned the fellow trail runner who turned to join us with a puzzled brow.
"The park is closed! It's too dangerous and you were trespassing," added fat boy with a badge.
"Seriously? Condtions are too dangerous? Everyone who uses the trails assumes the risk. These are the Rocky Mountains and the trails are rocky and we know that every time we go. Even when in prestine condition, a trail user could twist and ankle or get hurt. It doesn't make sense that you closed the trails!" my new best friend fired back at the ranger.
An intense dialog ensued where the ranger snatched back my trespassing ticket and returned to his truck. He came back and informed me that he took the ticket back, but gave both of us written warnings.
A few days later, while high on the mountain, I looked down and saw Sir Chubby with his hands on his hips again. I slipped down a different trail and into the creek bottom to slither past him. His white ranger truck was noticed in my rear view mirror as I drove away...
Trail users are a different breed. Thank you, but no thanks on protecting us from ourselves. We fare alright in so-called hazardous conditions.
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