[at-l] Trip Report (sort of)

[Bob Cummings <ellen@clinic.net> (Bob C.)]

OK. So today the list isn't terribly exciting. But for the first time in my
life, I've reported someone to the cops -- well cop. My town has only one. I
find that exciting.

 For the last couple of weeks, I've  spent every afternoon walking our land
 trust lands -- partly because the trails need normal spring maintenance, and
 partly because I'm scheduled for a stress test soon and if I don't do as well
 this year as I did last year, when I go for my exam, they'll want to cut my
 heart open for repairs -- something I don't like to have them do -- since seven
 or eight percent tend to die -- about the same percentage of thru hikers who
 complete the trail.

  I truly would love to complete "the trail." but not that
 way.

 Another 30 or 40 percent, according to the Internet, go into comas, have brain
 damage or sundry other complications.

 Well any way, each afternoon I walk as fast as I can, stopping from time to
time to remove blow downs, dig water bars, and to do other trail chores.

I spent most of this afternoon digging a trench to drain a 75-foot long mud
puddle, created by ATVs spinning their tires. That chore accomplished, I visited
one of our older trails and discovered it had been totally destroyed by ATVs,
churning the mud and constantly widening the trail to escape the resulting mud
puddles.

If you think hiker boots do damage by easing along the edges of puddles, you
ought to see the damage 40 horse power machines can do. In places our trails are
now 30-feet wide, and the puddles, three feet deep.

Despite the damage, I was feeling good from my afternoon's endeavors. Then
suddenly I hear in the distance ATVs. Maine law says ATVs can not drive on
property without the specific permission of the owners.

Not only hadn't the land trust given permission, two weeks ago we had posted our
lands against ATVs.

To make a long story short, I arrive at the scene to find two ATV machines
partially stuck. I walk over and demand of one driver, "Didn't you see the sign
that said no ATVs?" He or she ignored me completely, instead concentrating on
getting unstuck, which he or she succeeded in doing. That and a companion ATV
then did three loops around a trail designed for hikers, spinning tires and
doing maximum possible damage, seeing that it is now mud season on coastal
Maine.

So, I pushed on home and called our police chief. He greeted me with a friendly
smiley voice. I gave him the registration plate number of one of the offending
machines.

 He asked if I could identify the driver in court.

"Well," I said. "He was covered with mud and wearing a helmut."

 "I'll check out the registration, but if you can't identify the driver, we
 can't prosecute," the chief replied.

 "How can I identify someone wearing a helmet who refuses to stop and talk do
 me?" I demanded.

 "I know," he replied. "They won't even stop for me."

 Weary