One day I was at a waterfall that's fairly easy to get to. You can park about a mile away and walk to it over highly engineered, well-graded trails. To get a good view of it I walked up a side trail and found that there was a wooden viewing platform with benches. And a handicap-accessible sign.
Soon after that I realized that there was a gravel road leading to this spot. Another hiker showed up. "What is this place, anyway?" I asked him.
"It's for handicapped people in wheelchairs. The park rangers can give them access to a gated road and they can be driven here and roll their wheelchairs in or use their crutches to see the waterfall," he told me.
"Huh," I said, the fantasy of wilderness at that point completely blown.
After sitting there for about five minutes taking photos we heard the sound of automobile tires crunching gravel. A big SUV appeared. Full of people who had gotten permission to use the road and the handicap-accessible spot to see the waterfall.
A family of American lardasses oozed out of the vehicle. Not a one of them under 300 pounds.
Handicapped.
Right.
I ain't gonna tell you where this one is. Some jackass will lobby for a ramp to be built to it because hiking there isn't "fair" to everyone. |
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