Hodgepodge 8/365 - Wilderness Ranger

About four years ago, I stumbled (or maybe I was hoodwinked) into becoming a Volunteer Wilderness Ranger with the Ventana Wilderness Alliance and the U.S. Forest Service/Los Padres National Forest/Monterey Ranger District. I have written about being a ranger before: here and here and here and here and here, and perhaps elsewhere—it's a gig I enjoy, and I'd like to do more of it next year, once the forest reopens (once the Soberanes Fire is declared good and dead).

Today we had our Second Annual Ranger Summit, which is basically all the rangers gathering together, getting reacquainted, practicing various skills, discussing formal procedures, and playing some silly games (today's involved throwing a ball of yarn around a big circle, weaving a big spider web, and learning one another's names, which was useful, because we have a few new rangers, yay). As we always do, we went over radios—so easy to forget how to call in to dispatch, though it's really pretty simple. We took a group photo ☟. We discussed all the gear we should take on an outing. We talked about fire ring maintenance and first aid. Et cetera. Rangery stuff.

There was a raffle, but of course I never win anything, and today was no exception. But then the mysterious agenda item "The Ford (Ranger) Award" came along: a new award recognizing "commendable" rangering. This, the inaugural year, was decided not by committee but by Beth, one of our four chief volunteer rangers, and to my surprise, it went to me! I guess I do win things after all!

Though I was flummoxed: Why me?

The award: The "Ranger" part is a piece of a Ford Ranger
found by Beth and Lynn on the PCT. The rest is
a pinecone, a tipsy ball of yarn, and a flurry of ribbons:
the white ribbon on the right is Sharpie-inscribed
2016 ANNE CANRIGHT.
As I say: proud!

Turns out, Beth was impressed on a cleanup trip a couple of months ago to a site that, although not officially designated for camping, is so close to the road and near a little waterfall that shows up on maps (nasty attractant) that it often gets used as such. In such sites, there is always a problem with trash as well as waste—as in, human waste; plus toilet paper, sometimes strewn with apparent abandon, sometimes discreetly wadded on top of the waste and concealed under a rock . . . like that's going to make it less objectionable. Sigh. In any case, that day I noticed a huge pile of poop—human, not bear or mountain lion or anything that might not have known better—lying right in the middle of a crisscrossing of trails. Just poop; no TP, no rock. People! What to do but . . . scoop it up in my shovel and move it somewhere where no one would step on it or otherwise encounter this nasty surprise. I mean, seriously. What else could you do? But Beth was so impressed, I guess, with my efficiency and lack of grousing (People!!! Seriously!) that I am now the lucky recipient of the First Ford (Ranger) Award. And believe me, I will bear this honor proudly.

I should mention that the award (see above) is about four feet tall: an old broomstick to which the pinecone, yarn, ribbons, and most importantly, the bit of FORD Ranger, have been attached. It will be a handsome addition to my office for the next year. (And for readers who don't know, PCT = Pacific Crest Trail.)

All this goes to show the main reason I stay part of this little group of intrepid souls: It's fun! My fellow rangers are a joy to spend time with! Lynn makes fabulous cookies! We laugh, and there's plenty of time on the trail to talk and share the good stuff in life! Sure, we get important work done, but without the pleasure part of it all (and believe me, there's no pleasure in dealing with shit), I could probably find someplace else to put my energy.

So as I said above: next year, I intend to get out more. It's a way to spend quality time with folks I like. Maybe I'll even start leading trips. It's about time.