It didn’t used to be this way. The snowmobiles that passed me when I was on horseback moved more slowly, and the drivers were more courteous. Not any more. There are far more machines. Pete and I saw what looked like sled tracks on the Murphy Road turnoff – we both surmised that they belonged to a trapper. There are more trappers in our area than previously.
I spoke with a neighbor who is one of the Mat-Su Ski club groomers, and he said he didn’t see any problem with this. He said that the snowmobilers actually are beneficial in that they pack down trails for the groomers.
I think this neighbor is casting a blind eye to the situation. He could rally the bicycle and cross country ski people and let their concerns be known. But they have no concerns. The one and only individual (or so it seems) who has any concerns is this lone horseback rider.
I do not see myself remaining here. As soon as the book project takes off, and there is a cadre of workers on hand, workers who are as passionate as Pete and I are about the project, I am out of here.
I want to live someplace where there are horse trails, and no multi-use user issues. Someplace where it’s not too hot in the summer and not too cold in the winter.
Then there are days like today in which I feel ambivalent about the above. I felt this way today, oh say for five or so minutes. Given that I’m on the flip side of my lifespan, this was a substantial amount of time. The low lying sun was shining brightly. And the trees, which were flocked with snow, were a sight to behold. There might not be days like this elsewhere, and I would hate to miss them. And maybe, I thought, it’s good that the BLBP is keeping me here.
Change is a constant, and perhaps the snowmobilers and ATVers will go someplace else. Perhaps.
Next: 355. 12/27/23: Wiping the Slate Clean |