Last time I was in the US I went hiking in the North Cascades wilderness area. I walked into the park, walked up a trail, walked off the trail, found a cozy little corner near a lake, caught a pair of cutthroats with a handline, and was in the process of cooking them over a carefully built little fire when I was joined by a very polite and earnest young forest ranger - I didn't realize that the trail curled around and overlooked my little private spot. He asked to see my trail permit, which of course I didn't have. He explained at great length how the permit system was necessary so they would know where I was going, and when I was due out, and rescue me if I got into trouble. He offered to write me a permit on the spot, and asked where I was going and when I would emerge. I told him I hadn't the foggiest notion, I would keep going until I ran out of food. This went around in circles until I made up a schedule and itinerary just to make him happy. Of course I ignored it.
He probably could have arrested me for the trout, but he didn't.
I got tired of being protected from myself, and I left the country again soon after. I can deal with Uncle Sam, but Aunt Samantha was getting out of hand.
Steve |
