Mississippi River Trip: My Inner Parent

On to the Rockies!!!!!!

For about 2 hours or so.  

Apparently, we’re harbingers of doom.  Every time we decide to go somewhere, a fire springs up.  First it was near the Black Hills, and then we went to Medicine Bow, which is still burning.  We decided to hit Rocky Mountain National Park, and a fire started 15 minutes before we got to Estes Park, the entry to RMNP.  If anyone out there is interested in avoiding natural disaster, e-mail us and send a check and we’ll make sure not to visit.

The fire closed half of the park, but the main road was open so we decided that our visit to RMNP would be a rolling one, with stops for pictures, but ending at the campground at the far end of the park.  We toured our way along, snapping pictures (Larisa got some great pics of elk along the road).  When we got to the tundra portion of the park we decided to take an easy hike up to the tundra.  “Easy” is such a flexible word.  At sea level, the hike would have been a gentle stroll.  At 13,000 feet both Larisa and I thought we would burst a lung.  Lots of pauses for rest and to catch our breath – the altitude got to both of us.

At the top of the hike I took a side trail up to some rocks and found three Indian men, probably late twenties to early thirties in age, off of the trail and running around the tundra like children.  Normally I would have found it funny, but since every 15 feet along the trail there were signs imploring hikers to stay off the tundra and on the trail, and since the tundra (according to one sign) had been slowly dying due to people not paying attention to the signs I found the sight of them irritating.  In addition the entire area is blanketed with signs declaring it an endangered area.  One of them took out a pocket knife and started cutting a square of tundra, as if he were going to take it with him.

My inner parent came out with unusual force.

“What the hell are you doing?” I shouted.

The man looked up at me with the guilty expression of all children caught doing something bad.

“Um,” he replied. 

“The signs say to stay on the trail!  You’re damaging the tundra you knucklehead!  You’re killing it!”  No sign of losing my breath now.  “What makes you think you can do something like that?”

“We’re not killing it, um” the man stammered weakly.

“You’re a grown man acting like a child!  You ought to be ashamed of yourself!  Get back on the trail and stay there!”

The man and his two companions slowly climbed back up to the trail, dragging their tails behind them.  I moved on, still angry but not wanting to let it spoil my day.  Later on Larisa gave the same lecture to a hippy woman who read the signs and then walked right past them.

Maybe we’re getting old or something.  It can’t be too serious though, I never once shouted “Get off my lawn you young whippersnappers!”