A Big Hello to all
Written on 8 October 2007 by panther512New to this post thing wanted to say Hi. I hope to have some good input and level headed thinking. Now lets get things started
Winter is coming.
Written on 1 October 2007 by rivermobsterAn Excerpt from the ARRA newsletter.
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“You’ve got to be very careful if you don’t know where you’re going, because you might not get there.”– Yogi Berra |
Getting there is a challenge. It’s a challenge especially when one doesn’t know where one is going. That can’t be said of the squirrels in my yard. They are busy collecting acorns and burying them in preparation for the change of season.
I was in Ohio last week and found that the farmers were doing the same thing. They are harvesting their crops and, in some cases, storing their harvest on their farms or at the local grain elevator. The squirrels and the farmers share something in common. Both are in the harvesting mode. Both are planning for the future. Both are very busy since they know that soon the weather will change and make it too difficult for them to work in their respective fields.
The OHV community can learn something from Yogi Berra, the squirrels and the farmers. If we don’t know where we are going, we might not get there. If we don’t plan for the future, especially when the political winds are blowing in another direction, we might find ourselves out in the cold.
I don’t have a crystal ball, but it doesn’t take a genius to see that our country is likely to make some changes to the line-up of our political leaders come November, 2008. Those changes are likely to seriously affect the future of OHV recreation. Another Yogi Berra saying is, “when you come to a fork in the road, take it.”
Well, we are at a fork in the road. One pathway leads to continued access to our public lands and the other path leads to a dead end, where access is shut off to all except for those who travel on foot.
In last month’s newsletter, I wrote about the mountain of wilderness bills moving through the Congress. Just last week, the Wall Street Journal ran a front-page story on this very topic (read the WSJ piece). And then, the Washington Times ran a variation of my wilderness piece as an op-ed in its September 27th edition (read the Washington Times article).
Like the squirrels and the farmers, we need to begin planning and preparing for the winter season. Shifting political winds require new strategies if we are going to succeed in keeping our public lands open to OHV recreation. Some of us have sensed this shift in political winds for some time now. 
That’s why we have supported stronger enforcement efforts on the part of our public lands’ managers and why we have worked hard to ensure the successful implementation of the Forest Service Travel Management Rule. Access to public lands is not a right, it’s a privilege. Recreating responsibly will ensure that we continue to have this privilege.
The recreation community needs to recognize that the anti-access folks are gaining in political strength. That strength will be converted into policy unless we plan for the future. In the coming months, ARRA will be working with other national OHV organizations to fashion new approaches and strategies that recognize this changing political environment.
Planning ahead, like the squirrels and the farmers, will mean that access to public lands will remain open to responsible recreationists.
We take Yogi’s advice to heart. We intend to know where we are going before we begin the journey. And, when we come to that fork in the road, we plan on choosing the pathway that leads us to open access rather than a dead end.
We would welcome your ideas on how best to meet these new challenges. Working together, we can make a difference and influence public policy governing OHV access to our public lands.
Sincerely,
Larry E. Smith
Executive Director
Americans for Responsible Recreational Access
“Pay to Play” Fees
Written on 12 August 2007 by LLCorvairs(Posted by invitation…TY rivermobster)
From a selfish standpoint, sure, I don’t want to pay anything extra to go play, no one does. The reality is, pay-to-play is here to stay.
But I’m a fairly hard core Libertarian when it comes to money and taxes, and I deeply believe that all government services should be ‘pay to play’, with very, VERY few exceptions.
The key here is ‘services’. I don’t NEED vendors, I don’t NEED toilets, I don’t NEED trash cans, as I can take my crap and trash home with me. I have no problem carting my sorry, broken butt myself out of the dunes to the hospital, and am willing to risk dieing out there with no EMT’s if I can’t. I won’t sue the government (which is all of us) if I hurt myself through my own actions. I don’t NEED LEO’s, as long as I’m allowed to protect myself, my family/friends and my personal property, with deadly force if required, as I deem necessary. Note, that doesn’t mean I don’t USE these services because they are there, I do, but I don’t NEED them, I don’t WANT them, nor did I ASK for them, and if they are gone tomorrow, I won’t miss them. (with a bow to The Pastor)
So, in a perfect world, if I paid based on what I were to USE, then I wouldn’t pay much of anything, and in my world, every service out there would be pay as you go.
Our world doesn’t work that way, and never will. Pay to play, which includes the Green Sticker money, FLERA passes etc. is as close as it’s gonna get. I don’t expect the Birkenstock crowd to pay for my fun, and they shouldn’t expect me to pay for theirs. I don’t wish to pay to maintain horse riding, hiking, backpacking, mountain bicycle paths etc. and those people shouldn’t pay for my time in the sand. When I buy a horse, a mountain bike, a snowmobile, or some hiking boots, then I’ll gladly chip in to play in those places. Same goes for the water. WHATEVER $$$ we pay should be returned to the area/sport that generated them and none of that money should be used to restrict, close, or diminish the sport they came from.
My River
Written on 9 August 2007 by lantzIf I chose at some point to write a book, I am going to write it about the River, the Colorado River to be specific. Not because on it’s shores I pretended to be a man more than once, sat and sang songs with friends off key just to hear them pitched back at us by the opposing cliffs or later the memories I have and am creating with my two girls, but because one of the of the few ideas that I ever thought was worthy of a book followed a storm through the pass and landed in a thunderstruck note in the water at my feet.
I miss my grandmothers and fathers, I miss Jimmy, I miss Kyle, and Christie and countless others who have and surely will pass before my eyes, before me.
Probably 5 times a year I find myself sitting lonely at the water’s shore, almost always before 5 am because there’s usually no one up–they’re all still caught in slumber following the last strings whatever dreams they found the night before. I sit and stare at my reflection and of course reflect. I’m passing something to each individual water molecule which is in turn passing that information back to me, and like a movie the water passes by and captures every frame of every second I stand there. What happens to each of the molecules? They have to store some of that energy that is reflected back. I know that some of it is lost to heat, the actual light, etc, but there still must be a little memory left, a little memory imparted. What happens if somewhere down the river, maybe in Mexico, in the last few drops that actually reaches the gulf, those molecules all find each other rearranged precisely as they were days before, 150 miles north, and in front of no one or maybe someone, maybe someone who is also up before everyone else, my reflection or a second or two of my life is flashed in front of them? What if parts of my life are soaked up by clouds transported across the ocean and rearranged in front of strangers I never eve imagined visiting? I know it is improbable, but it would give me reason to spend more time on the those. to me, hallowed shores. I could look for those I miss. Pictures and memories I witnessed and some I missed. What if you could predict the conditions or waters that were prone to these reconstructions?
If I chose to write a book, I’ll be the main character. My girls, Darcy, and everyone else will be there. My river will be there, the one I know now, and I’ll be in search of the one from my childhood where those I miss the most are smiling back at me.
Street bike death by Lake Cuyamaca
Written on 15 July 2007 by dwnhmgirlSo last night when I was at Robin and Ian’s, my sister left me a voice mail on my cell phone to please call her.
She had gone to Lake Cuyamaca with her best freind (a Sharp Doctor) to see her new property that overlooks the lake.
As they were leaving they were stopped at the stop sign at highway 79 when they witnessed an accident. A pickup truck was slowing to turn off the highway. When he did, the two street bikes behind him pulled around to pass him.
The second driver mis-judged and clipped the back of the truck. She was going about 30 miles an hour and went down. She took most of the impact on her helmet when she hit the pavement.
My sister and her freind jumped out of their vehicle to assist. There was bloodrunning out of her helmet already. They removed her helmet and she was bleeding from her ears and choking on her blood. They had to roll her to keep her from choking to death.
When they rolled her my sister said blood just came pouring out of her mouth and nose. They started pulling her boots off and when they pulled the second boot off the ladies eyes kinda went wide like it hurt or something (her ankle was broken) so my sis thought okay that is a good sign, she is at least alive and feeling pain. However, what they had actually just seen, was her passing…..her pupils were fixed and dialated.
At that very moment, the volunteer fire and paramedics were arriving on seen and the looks on their faces confirmed that this woman was gone. The CHP (or sheriff, not sure) also arrived shortly there after.
Life flight was called and she was transported to Mercy hospital in San Diego.
While on the scene of this accident one of the officers stated he and had just come from the scene of another street bike accident in the local mountains not too far away. AND, while they were on scene at this accident there was a call for another street bike vs. car (head on) a mile down the road from where this accident was so one of them had to take off to that one!!
The whole time the fiance kept saying that the helmet was brand new. Top of the line $600 full helmet. She was also outfitted in full riding gear. Top of the line jacket, pants and boots.
My sister called AAA to arrange to have the motorcycle towed so that fiance could take off and go to the hospital.
They exchanged phone numbers and he called her this morning to let her know that she had in fact died on scene (brain dead) and that they were taking her off life support this morning.
Such a horribly traggic accident!!
Not to take away from the fact that she lost her life in anyway.
The saddest thing of all is, this accident could have been avoided if she’d paid a little more attention as she passed the truck.
Also, her safety gear did not save her either. Her top of the line helmet was of no help at all.
I guess when the good Lord is ready for you……….there is just no stopping it from happening.
It should be all about the kids
Written on 19 June 2007 by dwnhmgirlWhy do people get divorced and forget that the most important thing is the children??
Why do they fight and say mean things about the other in front of their children??
Why do they make the children call or relay mean nasty messages to the other parent??
Why can’t they see that they are only hurting their children??
Why do they get mad at the family members who point out that their behavior is unacceptable and is hurting their child??
Why, Why, Why???
Fathers Day 07
Written on 18 June 2007 by danzkawiI know that I say that I ‘m in Teenager hell right now and I am…..
Well, This Fathers day was the best one I could remember. I didn’t get anything I could hold onto plug in or start up, and it was great. What I did get was three thoughtful boys doing thoughtful things which is better than any gift they would have given me. (they don’t have much money) haha. I got to spend a little time with them indiviually. That really only happens with my youngest these days.
They have made my heart feel so warm right now.
I ‘m sure it won’t last long because there teenagers and they are going to do something stupid before the day is over.
Thats okay!
I love them anyway.
100 words on selling your junk.
Written on 4 June 2007 by lantzIf you have to sell something, you should go against popular wisdom and sell it to a friend: A. You’ll make sure it works because you don’t want it back. B. If your friend can’t afford it, he or she will likely admit it. Everyone else is out to get what you have for next to nothing. Decide on what it is worth to you. List it for that price. Sell it for that price or keep it. If you are buying, be sure to make the seller feel guilty for having an unreasonably high price or for not budging.
Blown away…
Written on 30 May 2007 by rivermobsterSo my son Anthony, the other night, asks me to play a game a chess with him before he has to go to bed. I say…sure, go set it up, and I’ll be there in a few minutes. So after a bit i walk out to the living room and my whole world folds in on it’s self.
My dad passed away back in Jan. And while we are over there cleaning his house, my son walks up to me with a wooden chess/checker board in his hands. And says…hey dad, look what i found! I look at it, it’s obviously home made, I flip it over and look on the back. Apparently I had made this board in highschool wood shop, and my folks had stashed it away! He asks me if he can have it, and I say sure, it looks like I made it in highschool. He was highly impressed and when out and stuffed it in my truck.
So what do I see on our coffee table, as I walk to play that chess game with him? (Five months later I might add)
The same chess board, that I had made, and that I had also forgot ALL about (again), all set up and ready to play.
I sit down, look at my son, and even though there is no WAY I can discribe what I felt, the conversation should convey it quite well…
Me…Anthony, where did you get this board?
Him…I had it in my room dad
Me…Do you know this is the board I made in highschool?
Him…You made this board?
Me…Yeah, this is the one you found at my dads!
Him…O yeah! But I forgot you told me you made it.
Me…I never in a million years would I have ever thought that I would play with my own son someday on this board.
Him…Why not?
Me…I have no idea. I just never thought about it.
And I just sat there looking at him. Looking at that board. And was in awe at the way life plays out sometimes.
The moment just blew me away.
He won the match that night…
An older one from my 1st blog that never got anywhere.
Written on 30 May 2007 by lantzAn itsy-bitsy Spider
Yesterday it was just a tarantula on the wall between the front door light and the window. I fully expected it to be a mid-morning snack for one of the Jays that eat our cat’s food in the morning. They, the Jays, have a habit of dive bombing the insects that have found midnight solace and sanctuary on our wall just outside the front door. This morning the spider was gone? I found it though perched quite precariously under the eaves nearly above my head. It was clinging to a truss and just peaking out at me. I wondered then if i was perhaps the object of some perverse story that someone was writing. You know? The kind where a spider sets his eyes on a snack way to large, me, and each day contemplates just how he will ensnare me as I pass under him the same time every morning. Who knows how many failed plots have already played themselves out in the growing folio? WIll tomorrow morning be my last. The story will end with little surprise to the reader who must have guessed the climax long ago. I’m sure I’ll be surprised, bound like a hobbit from the front fascia or drug into some dark hole deep into the bowels of the Ramona underground. I’ll bet there are humans in the underground who care for spiders like the one at my front doorstep. By day they hangout in places like the Turkey Inn, or they work as baggers at StaterBros, maybe some of them spin signs on the corner advertising new communities built at predetermined locations with convenient access to their underground world.
Maybe the spider isn’t after me at all, but it sure makes for a good story, and it lets me dwell for a few minutes in the land of the gods where my life plays an important part in some grand plot illustrating the fragility of existence and the irony that lies just below the surface. I’ll bet you five bucks that my wife, who is unnaturally fearfull of spiders will notice his new perch and in an unconscious bid to thwart his plans will knock it off to the concrete and sweep him into the bushes.
Maybe the spider isn’t a him at all, but a her….
good morning
Mike
