i want to start a new column, so-to-speak. Stories, preferably humorous, Or made so … About our clueless visitors. I’ll start, but send me any experiences you wish to share, and, if they have a point, but use humor to make it, I will publish … With credit or anonymously, as you prefer. Send your contribution to firstname.lastname@example.org
I’ve noticed that Saturday night the wilderness visitors are a bit stranger than those who come on Friday night. I am at a loss to explain the difference.
This past Saturday, late afternoon, early evening, I came upon several cars heading up Plaskett. One, a Subaru Outback didn’t want to pull over, so I rode his tail up Plaskett. From Gary’s driveway until the bull frog, this guy wouldn’t pull over. Finally, a wide spot, and I was able to pass. I watched him in the rear view mirror, but he held back. I gave him no more thought. I needed to pee, but there were campers at all my usual spots, so I waited until I got to my gate.
As I opened my Jeep door and went to get out, I was suddenly surrounded by 3 guys from the Subaru Outback. They were startled by my gate, and wanted to get through. “We have to get through, we are meeting friends at Prewitt Ridge camp.” Really? Demanding I let them through? Oh, yeah, like that’s going to work. “No, you can’t go through.” “But, our GPS sent us this way.” “I don’t care if your mother sent you this way. You cant come through. Now, turn around, go down to the highway and go up Nacimiento. Goodbye.”
Clueless in Big Sur.