the bush

by underswansea

RCE_0850

The day rolled away. I continued to get annoyed at minor annoyances. The tourists are out in force. I can’t blame them. The mountains are good. They go too fast, cut me off, leave trash and shit at every pull off. They rev big boats on a small lake. They can’t help it. They don’t know better. It’s like teenagers listening to loud music, there is nothing you can tell them to make them turn it down. To them it has to be done.

I figured I’d had enough of the valley bottom and took off for the high country. Willow and I rolled around looking for berries. The Huckleberries are good this year. I had a gallon in no time.

I heard them before they arrived. The truck revving in 4 wheel drive. I wanted to be out of sight when they crested the landing. I was sweating like a bastard, and had my t-shirt wrapped around my head like a headband.

It was a jacked up, Dodge 3/4 ton with 7 young male teens. One of them had a roll of toilet paper in his hand. Of course the truck had city plates.

Well I wasn’t going to let these guys shit on my landing. I’m not sure what they thought of me

The dad was missing. They asked if there was a good place to hike.

Willow barked.

I told them a good place to hike, where they could get into the rocks.

My thought was, if they made it into the mountains they would see things differently.

They piled back into the truck including the guy with the roll of toilet paper.

After they left I picked up their garbage including, a couple of lit cigarettes.

I get it. I can’t blame them. They approach everything like they are going to the movies.

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