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.
|Triple Falls. You can hike to see it. Or if you're a pathetic sack of lard the park rangers will give you the keys to the road where you can sit on your disgusting, fat ass and look at it from the comfort of your freaking gas guzzler.|
|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.|