Some friends recently returned from hiking the Appalachian Trail. Or maybe they’re leaving next week.
No matter. I’m not interested in details of planning the trip or stories of adventures encountered. The whole hiking, biking, nature, fitness, workout, aerobic nonsense is as foreign to me as 10th grade algebra.
Burdening my already creaky back with kilos of gear (sleeping bag, mattress, pots, pans, bug spray and a note from my mother) guarantees a 15-minute hike. First we eat lunch, then I go home.
A journey, on foot, mind you! of many miles through isolated forests and mountains, unarmed, where money will not keep you from getting lost, falling off a cliff or being eaten by flesh-eating snipe holds zero appeal for me.
What’s the point? What’s the draw? What’s the incentive? Why would anyone embark on a harrowing journey of pain and deprivation, much like the Westward Ho! caravans from hell our ancestors endured? Those creaky old Conestega wagons without shock absorbers or even air in the tires didn’t get loaded up and sent across the prairies because travelers wanted to inhale fresh, bracing mountain air or bathe in icy frozen streams in snow-covered Rockies.
But here you are, with all the comforts and luxuries of 21st century America, and you want to waddle from Georgia up to Canada so you can live life to the fullest? Follow your dream? Bucket List #17?
I might be swayed if there were vending machines every quarter mile and a nice saloon ‘round every bend. And I wouldn’t get too picky about housing as long as my door had a lock and I didn’t have to walk down some hallway to make potty. And room service too, please.
UPDATE UKIAH: The Next Big Thing in appeasing our outdoor hike-bike-kayak-climb-taichi-jump-jog-die-of-cardiac-arrest-triathalunatic-crowd is the Great Rail Trail, yet another hoax to convince taxpayers there’s a lucrative future in abandoned railroad tracks. This new swindle is a bit of a switcheroo, because it’s free of trains, tracks, engines, cabooses, passengers or freight. The politicians have tried all those and every one of them has failed, so here we are with a cool new hiking path to the North Pole.
We know about their failed plans for a new Cloverdale Depot that, 40 years later, has yet to see its first train. We know about the various Smart Trains to ‘Frisco and back and then on to Eureka, and the Bullet Train that soaked up a billion or so dollars before the same politicians who demanded it be brought to life demanded it be put to sleep.
This is different. This is better. This is a pedestrian pathway to somewhere over the hillside and through the woods where you safely stroll along until A) you snap a tendon and realize it takes 72 hours for an ambulance to arrive, or B) you and a half dozen of your friends are accosted by a gang of Robin Hood-type thugs from Garberville who want your money and your life.
You sprint into the deep dark woods to escape. It takes four days to hack your way out, and that’s when you learn swarms of flesh-eating snipe ate your six friends.
And C) No vending machines.
Don’t worry. Over to the east, on the dark side of Alder Point, you see a warm, orange light slowly, gently caressing the mountains, and you realize a new day will dawn and you’ll soon be able to return to civilization. And then you realize it’s a west-bound wildfire that’s been roaring for two days and three hundred miles and is hell-bent for Hawaii.
Question: Did you bring sunglasses?
My friends, all this happy talk about a grand new project that will transform the coast and bring joy to citizens is just another cynical ruse. Ultimately the only beneficiary will be some well-connected Democrat angling for a lifetime position as the Rail Trail Czar in charge of guiding this dead-on-arrival project through to its abandonment.
Recent History
Contrary to popular cliche there’s not much truth in the oft-repeated saying “Those who fail to learn from history are bound to repeat it.”
History does not repeat itself. But it does rhyme and echo.
Example:
Donald Trump had Stormy Daniels.
Willie Brown had Kamala Harris.
Be sure to follow me on Facebook for more history lessons and small engine repair tips!
I certainly have enjoyed your writings, cranky with tongue in cheek, but there are “rail to trails” in other parts of the country which seem to have validity. The places where railroads were developed all over the place, long before cars, trucks or paved highways, have occasionally taken the abandoned rails and made them into pedestrian and bicyclist possibilities to actually get from town to town without getting on the highway. In both Georgia and New York there are bike trails I know about which not only provide a place to walk or ride a bike, they can actually be used to tour the countryside, town to town, and are popular destinations for people who like to do this sort of thing. Maybe not you, or me anymore, but years ago I found bicycling across parts of California, and then across Canada, to be one of the more rewarding and memorable youthful experiences. It would have been a lot better if I wasn’t on the highway. But yes, I tend to agree, the one around here seems to be essentially a scam with all the usual California complications.
Thanks for the response and the insights. I doubt nothing you write, and think an entertaining column could come out of your hiking / biking experiences too. I write with a broad brush, without much nuance or opposing viewpoints mixed in. The column is too short. My aim is to (a) entertain the reader(s) and (b) maybe get them thinking my way.
Thanks again, Lew!
Tom, I unloaded the last railcar of gravel from Nashmead when I was working at Parnum Paving in ’99. Masonite closed, GP Resin closed, Lyly and Cooper trucking shut down, all because of lack of rail transportation. It was a domino effect. The North Coast Rail Authority had SP’s old switch engines pulling gravel cars down Ridgewood, with no dynamic braking, just air-brakes. The engineer looked like he had just dodged a high-speed derailment! I knew that this was the death of rail and most industries in the Redwood Curtain!
Mark Oswell!! Long lost brother of Dave Oswell, the late night KUKI DJ and owner of the Ukiah used record store I spent hours and dollars in waaay back in the 1970s and early ’80s. Last time you and I traded info was on the phone, and that might have been another hundred years ago. Thanks for the info, and hope Bro Dave and his brood are doing great.