It's not easy these days to find the time, money or gas to get away for the weekend. So when some friends suggested we meet up at Curtis Creek to do some biking and camping, I was excited.
Arriving after a hard day at work, fighting traffic and the setting sun, we set up camp at a beautiful spot on Curtis Creek.
I just got settled into my folding chair when a ranger burst into our camp spot, shouting he was a police officer and shining his maglight in our faces.
I thought there must be something really serious going on: escaped prisoners, ax murderer, rogue bears? No, the problem was the Miller Highlife I had just cracked open. OK, my bad, I missed the sign in the darkness driving up the creek. I don't know who would think of having a beer while camping.
I admitted my mistake, poured the rest out and was very polite to the ranger.
The friendly ranger proceeded to write me a ticket for $75 with a $25 processing fee. Wow, there goes $100 I could have spent at Frisbee's Market, the Whistle Stop, the Sweet Spot or any other deserving Old Fort business.
It's not going to be just my money y'all won't see, it's going to be the money of my friends and family after I warn them of the hazards of going to Curtis Creek.
Maybe the friendly ranger could leave his 9mm handgun, fancy SUV and snarling K9 back at HQ and grab a mattock and hoe and do some trail restoration up on Heartbreak Ridge, but that seems like dirty and hard work compared to picking off tourists on a Friday night.
It was an expensive lesson for me. It will also be an expensive lesson for the merchants of your fair county.
Don't let the feds shoot the Golden Goose!
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