BIGEarl
Well-known member
Now I’m grumpy!
I’ve been waiting to cool down because a while ago I was really pissed off. This is because of an aborted Mt. Garfield hike. But, my current frame of mind came from a number of contributing factors experienced on the hike.
First, Jennifer and I pulled into the trailhead parking for the Mt. Garfield Trail (aka Gale River Road) at approximately 8:45am on Sunday, March 11. We parked and started to gear up for the hike. Also in the parking area were three others that appeared to have camped in the area and were in the process of leaving. One was finishing a beer as they loaded their toboggans and other gear into their vehicles. They got in to their vehicles and left. Needlessly, and clearly intentionally spinning their tires in the lot and again once they moved onto the road. The vehicles had Connecticut plates. I’m sure the folks back in hometown, Connecticut are proud of these guys.
We left the parking area for our road walk to the actual trailhead approximately 1.5 miles away. I had a need to relieve myself and walked off the road into the edge of the woods. Here, I found an empty beer bottle that looked exactly like the one being drained into the mouth of one of those guys at the parking area. The bottle was clearly a recent addition to the local scenery. It was completely on top of the snow. I believe it could have been tossed there by these guys or someone else. I have no way of knowing. But, it’s presence is probably more than a coincidence.
Next, while Jennifer and I were making our way along the road, and on a very long straight section, a dog came running toward us. Then, another, larger dog appears and headed our way. Fortunately, they were friendly. They were also not at all under the control of their owners. A while after the dogs had been with us the owners appeared from around the turn in the road, way up ahead of us. Eventually, we reached each other at which time a leash was attached to each dog. What’s the point? Evidently, these women decided to do their “I’m a responsible dog owner” act. Too many times people are out with dogs they are unable to control, and unwilling to even try. We left and they continued their postholing way toward the main road.
Next, we reached the trailhead for the Mt. Garfield Trail and stopped for a quick break, drink, and snack. While there I noticed where some idiot had decided a laminated notice on the trailhead kiosk should be burned. It looked like a lighter, match, or perhaps propane torch was used to set it afire. What kind of moron does this sort of thing?
Next, Jennifer and I started hiking the Mt. Garfield Trail. The trail was in great shape. It had been broken out and very well packed by previous hikers on snowshoes. With the overnight rain and warm temperatures the snow had become soft making snowshoes necessary to avoid postholing with every step. In fact, with each step I could feel the snow giving way under my thirty inch snowshoes. These hiking conditions were difficult and tiring. We managed to hike roughly 3.5 miles before deciding we would not make it to the summit. At that point we made a u-turn and started back. Soon, we came upon two hikers, one on snowshoes and the other bare booting and punching a beautiful trail full of postholes. He had a very nice set of snowshoes tied to his pack. Evidently, I was in downtown Moronville and he was the mayor. Jennifer and I hiked a very smooth and well packed trail on the way, doing all we could to protect it only to have it destroyed by this individual not willing to be a responsible, considerate hiker.
Finally, after reaching the Gale River Road and heading off toward the parking area we started to encounter dog feces. Not just once or twice but quite a few times, in the packed, traveled portion of the trail. None of this was present on our way in. It would take very little effort on the part of the dog owner to at least kick the mess off the trail to the side. For only a small additional effort it could be buried. I’ve heard the only difference between a good dog and a bad dog is the owner. Well, form your own opinion.
That’s it, we never made it to Mt. Garfield. But, it was a nice day to be out.
I’ve been waiting to cool down because a while ago I was really pissed off. This is because of an aborted Mt. Garfield hike. But, my current frame of mind came from a number of contributing factors experienced on the hike.
First, Jennifer and I pulled into the trailhead parking for the Mt. Garfield Trail (aka Gale River Road) at approximately 8:45am on Sunday, March 11. We parked and started to gear up for the hike. Also in the parking area were three others that appeared to have camped in the area and were in the process of leaving. One was finishing a beer as they loaded their toboggans and other gear into their vehicles. They got in to their vehicles and left. Needlessly, and clearly intentionally spinning their tires in the lot and again once they moved onto the road. The vehicles had Connecticut plates. I’m sure the folks back in hometown, Connecticut are proud of these guys.
We left the parking area for our road walk to the actual trailhead approximately 1.5 miles away. I had a need to relieve myself and walked off the road into the edge of the woods. Here, I found an empty beer bottle that looked exactly like the one being drained into the mouth of one of those guys at the parking area. The bottle was clearly a recent addition to the local scenery. It was completely on top of the snow. I believe it could have been tossed there by these guys or someone else. I have no way of knowing. But, it’s presence is probably more than a coincidence.
Next, while Jennifer and I were making our way along the road, and on a very long straight section, a dog came running toward us. Then, another, larger dog appears and headed our way. Fortunately, they were friendly. They were also not at all under the control of their owners. A while after the dogs had been with us the owners appeared from around the turn in the road, way up ahead of us. Eventually, we reached each other at which time a leash was attached to each dog. What’s the point? Evidently, these women decided to do their “I’m a responsible dog owner” act. Too many times people are out with dogs they are unable to control, and unwilling to even try. We left and they continued their postholing way toward the main road.
Next, we reached the trailhead for the Mt. Garfield Trail and stopped for a quick break, drink, and snack. While there I noticed where some idiot had decided a laminated notice on the trailhead kiosk should be burned. It looked like a lighter, match, or perhaps propane torch was used to set it afire. What kind of moron does this sort of thing?
Next, Jennifer and I started hiking the Mt. Garfield Trail. The trail was in great shape. It had been broken out and very well packed by previous hikers on snowshoes. With the overnight rain and warm temperatures the snow had become soft making snowshoes necessary to avoid postholing with every step. In fact, with each step I could feel the snow giving way under my thirty inch snowshoes. These hiking conditions were difficult and tiring. We managed to hike roughly 3.5 miles before deciding we would not make it to the summit. At that point we made a u-turn and started back. Soon, we came upon two hikers, one on snowshoes and the other bare booting and punching a beautiful trail full of postholes. He had a very nice set of snowshoes tied to his pack. Evidently, I was in downtown Moronville and he was the mayor. Jennifer and I hiked a very smooth and well packed trail on the way, doing all we could to protect it only to have it destroyed by this individual not willing to be a responsible, considerate hiker.
Finally, after reaching the Gale River Road and heading off toward the parking area we started to encounter dog feces. Not just once or twice but quite a few times, in the packed, traveled portion of the trail. None of this was present on our way in. It would take very little effort on the part of the dog owner to at least kick the mess off the trail to the side. For only a small additional effort it could be buried. I’ve heard the only difference between a good dog and a bad dog is the owner. Well, form your own opinion.
That’s it, we never made it to Mt. Garfield. But, it was a nice day to be out.
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