It would have broken your heart to see the old, infirm,
and handicapped hobbling to the restrooms from the Round Up at Duck Creek this
year. There is a well-established level
straight-arrow trail from the Roundup to the restrooms but a party of about
five haughty couples rented two sites and even though the trail goes between
the two sites, they decided that whole area was theirs and we couldn’t walk
through it. Nevermind that we had to
walk through another camp in much more difficult terrain to get to the restrooms. They first set chairs on the trail; then they
pitched a tent right on the trail. They
went to the campground host and complained so he came and told us we couldn’t
walk through there. He didn’t care that
it was a well-established path that we had been using for 75 years. We couldn’t use it anymore.
There are signs at the Visitor’s Center that read
“Smoking is prohibited except in cars,” so we told him maybe he should enforce
that. He came back and told us that the
forest service rules are that you have to have 3-feet clearance to smoke
outside. That’s not Duck Creek rules or
they wouldn’t have posted signs but he let them smoke. Fires and briquettes were totally banned even
in fire pits or on grills; yet smoking is OK?
The Forest Service should have been concerned that
they drove their truck and trailer past all the barriers while they unloaded
their gear. They hung a life-size
prostitute doll from the tree because they were going to play a mystery game in
the evening. They screamed at and
terrorized our children and were extremely rude to the adults.
I wish I had taken a picture of Lucille with her
two canes, twisted body, and platform corrective shoes hobbling to the restroom;
or quivering bent-over 76-year-old Sherrill, a stroke victim, cautiously and
slowly creaking over; or Marilyn with a hip-replacement gone awry, trying not
to fall as she leaned on her cane; or elderly Frank recently released from the
hospital with internal problems. Ed
couldn’t make it and wouldn’t drink water so he wouldn’t have to go. It was truly a pathetic migration of the
feeble.
One girl, the one who tattled to the gutless
Campground Host (Jerry), did tell Lucille and Judi, who was helping her, they
could walk back along the level trail.
They moved their tent. But as far
as I was concerned, it was too little, too late, too cruel, too arrogant, too
stupid to absolve. The forest belongs to
everyone. They should have stayed home
if they didn’t want anyone else around.
For me, it was the saddest experience of all my
years camping at Duck Creek, first as a toddler when my Daddy ran his sheep on
the Mountain, then as a 4-H Club camper with skits, crafts, and softball games;
and finally for 57 years at DeRay’s family reunion.
Epilogue:
On Monday when everyone had left except Clare, Marilyn, Sherrill, DeRay
& Ed, the Camp Host came over to arrange the
rocks so the trail would be blocked to the restroom. Clare bravely went over to talk to him,
explaining that the trail goes between the two camps and we have at least 10
people who have trouble walking on uneven terrain. She also pointed out that we pay $60/night
and deserve tent space all around the Round-Up.
In a total turnabout, he agreed on all counts and rearranged the rocks
to make that campsite the size it was originally intended to be and lined a
trail straight to the restrooms from the Round-Up Circle. He wasn’t a jerk after all; he only lost his
sanity temporarily, bowing to malevolent pressure. Too bad the pompous couples will never
know. They are probably terrorizing and
bullying children, the elderly and handicapped somewhere else this weekend.
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