Beautiful Wild Camps
I will still camp in my back yard, perhaps till...
Beautiful Wild Camps
I will still camp in my back yard, perhaps till...
Tin Can
Does that mean you will be camping in the Shawnee?
Import grizzly bears
I left my Colman stove on the table (closed) and my camp chair set up next to the table at a campsite in one of Death Valley's free campgrounds while I drove off for the day to photograph. I came back after a long hot day to find my campsite filled with millenials, so happy to have such a wonderful campsite in an otherwise full campground!
My stove open and messed with, etc. "We were wondering why someone left a stove." and "This is a free camp, there are no rules." is what I got as I kicked them out of my camp...though I had offered to let then stay, but they would have to move their tent and truck. "But we already have our stuff in the tent!" I let some other folks that these idiots had allowed into the campsite to stay. It was a big site, and I had let others come in for night several times, so that was no big deal. I just kinda of think that I should be able to park where I needed to, use the table, and enjoy the view without having to look at someone else's uninvited tent in my campsite. Cranky old man that I am! LOL
Some kids just never had parents who knew, or ever had the opportunity to teach their brats, camping ediquite (sp).
"Landscapes exist in the material world yet soar in the realms of the spirit..." Tsung Ping, 5th Century China
Do you have a copy of the biography of Orland Bartholomew, Vaughn? I didn't personally know him; but my older sister went to school with his kids. He was known as the "last of the mountain men", Sierra-wise, and skied the entire Muir Trail in the 1920's the winter after it was completed per its original route, on homemade wooden skis, over half a century before anyone else did it in winter, with only a buffalo hide robe for either warmth or shelter. The summer before he had cached and buried critical food supplies along the route. Somewhere around Lake Virginia, already out of food for several days in the snow, he came upon his next cache just as it was being devoured by some miners, even though he had left a note in it explaining that his life depended on it. The ensuing conversation was not amusing, and it appears enough food was still left for him to at least survive until the next cache. Where do all these jerks come from, anyway?
Drew-my second theorem: Stupid people are never infertile. That's where they come from.
Indeed. Dirty diapers thrown into the streams, piles of cheap beer cans laying around, mostly shot up, even though much of the ammo goes wildly flying right across the road during drunken roadside parties, toothless women n' all. I grew up with some of those types, and as per phenotype, with a prehensile tail coming out of the back of their overalls, it's easy to guess their genetic ancestry. Possums never were very particular. Their kids follow suit, but seem to prefer meth to rotgut alcohol.
Drew, I've had dirty diapers thrown into my yard (I'm right on the road) countless beer cans, a used hypo back in May, a pair of size XL thong panties once, snuff cans at least once every other week. I really think we need to spay and neuter rednecks. All that on top of meth head redneck women running from the cops plowing thru my yard and the fence between me and the cow pasture behind me-at 11:30 at night no less!
Way off across one corner of my old modest ranch was a shack coated with six different colors of tarpaper, on a tiny plot next to the road, with at least twenty dead cars piled up. I looked at it on Google Earth a few days ago, and it's gotten even worse in terms of junk heap. There was a family there that routinely broke dishes and chairs over each other. The daddy was in prison for rape, and two sons also in prison at one time. On the other side of me was a rather large ranch owned by the local Constable. Each evening when he returned from patrols, he got on his jeep and counted his cattle. One was missing. So he drove the 4-mile road route around his property, which included going right past that tarpaper shack. The day before, the eldest son had just been paroled and decided he wanted to celebrate with some steak. So what did he do? - shot a cow right across the fence, which happened to belong to a lawman; and then he had the sheer stupidity to hang the skinned-off hide on a fence post in plain view from the road, with the brand itself plainly showing. That's why I've always said that it would take an entire Zip Code of those kinds of people to equate to the IQ of an individual possum. I've never had a problem getting along with simple rural people; but then there's another category ....
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