Morton Peak Poop

I spend rather more time than the normal city dweller trekking in the rough. I find it restorative to wander in the relative wild of the wash and mountain trails where evidence of human desecration is minimal. And so when I encounter evidence of the “wrong” kind of human polluting my bit of paradise, I seethe.

Last evening, I walked up the Morton Peak fire road just before sunset. A gentle on-shore breeze blanketed the valley in a cooling marine haze, and the long shadows on the eastern slopes made the steep climb comfortable.

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At the gate to the fire lookout tower some Cretin had answered the call of nature, leaving behind an unsavory mess for everyone who came after to suffer.

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Disgusted, I figured that I would collect up the dirty tissue on my return. I always carry a zip-lock sandwich bag for just such personal emergencies. I wonder if I should add a pair of gloves to my bag.

The old watch tower is being restored and updated for the comfort of folks who care to shell out $85/night to sleep in a tower with no water, no wi-fi, no electricity, and no cooking facilities. There is a picnic table, a pit toilet, and a splendid view.

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To my surprise, I found that someone else had picked up the filthy litter at the gate. So, it was a case of mixed emotions: one inconsiderate slob was balanced by one like-minded nature lover. Interestingly, the person who had done the good deed was probably the shirtless, nicely muscled, young man I’d met who was headed downhill. I had taken a picture of his car when I parked next to it, thinking it looked a bit disreputable because it was dirty and had no wheel covers. Just goes to show, you can’t always judge a man by his car.

The three mile walk back down went by pleasantly as I skipped down the smooth sections. Skipping is about as fast as jogging downhill and spares old knees the jarring of running, though it does look a little silly. Molly openly laughed at me.

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4 thoughts on “Morton Peak Poop

  1. Lovely view! When geocaching we once had the misfortune of finding a geocache (made of a plastic coffee can) that someone (there must be a stronger word than cretin) had used as a latrine. The worst part was that there was a restroom not more than 50 yards away. Disgusting. Anyway I’m glad there are good people around to balance the not-so-good ones.

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    1. The young man was long gone by the time I reached the parking area as he was headed down when I was headed up. I hope he didn’t think that I had made the mess! Next time I’ll pick it up on the way up to avoid any such suspicion.

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