R is for Rednecks and Critters

     Today I introduced a new friend to a new area to her.
     The Mountains.
     It turned into way more of an adventure than it should have been.
     J is kind of new to Southern California used to the fog and hippies of the Bay Area.
     The plan was to hike to a popular swimming hole in our mountain area that I call “The Creek”
     I talk about The Creek a lot.
     Some people merely refer to me Creek Girl.
     It is a well known fact that I love The Creek, and Creek Season (Spring and Summer) as I call it.
     I could spend all my sunny days floating down an inner tube in the little swimming holes and lazy rivers that are The Creek. Giant rocky cliffs hug it’s edges and massive Jeffrey Pines lend a little shade to it’s shorelines. There are a few sandy beaches here and there to relax on, and the forest service keeps the clear green waters of The Creek stocked with little trout if I’m in the mood to fish.
    The problem with The Creek is sometimes The Redneck Yacht Club also likes to enjoy The Creek.
    This is what I like to call all my inbred, tattooed, drugged out neighbors. Their idea of enjoying The Creek is to leave broken beer bottles in the sand, cigarette butts floating in the crystal clear waters and let their mangy pit bulls poo all over the trails I love to hike and run.
They are also known to show up in groups of thirty or so, blaring Linkin Park from a twenty year old boom box, smoking who knows what and screaming profanities at their young children. (Yes, gasp, they always have a herd of dirty screaming children with them)
     The worst of the mountain people we call the Crestline Critters.
      The most ghetto, meth encrusted area in this mountain is called Crestline. In this small mountain community you see the Critters everywhere. This is mainly because they don’t work much, unless they are hitch hiking to a job at the ski resort when they are open. They live off of welfare and EBT and unfortunately, the Critters and their twelve packs of Miller High Light just love a day at the creek.
     Today the Critters decided to do a creek day.
     Now every one has a right to go out and enjoy nature, but when you are letting your dogs poo all over the trail, breaking glass bottles in the creeks, leaving your trash all over the creek (As we left, I found an empty water bottle left behind, which proclaimed Josh’s Sex Elixir. Poor Josh, he left his elixir at the creek! That is what you get for littering, Josh) than I’m sorry, you should lose your creek rights.
     Unfortunately we just don’t have enough forest rangers in this area to baby sit the Critters at the creek and make sure they are behaving.
    Of course the day I brought a new friend to my precious creek we had to run into a mob of Critters.
    L was my other friend who came with me on this spring time adventure to The Creek. L actually lives in Crestline and she knows a Critter when she sees one.
    We had just pulled into the parking lot at Splinter’s Cabin and there were no other cars to be seen.
     The Splinter’s Cabin trail runs to Aztec Falls. Aztec has these huge forty foot cliffs you can jump off into the water way below.
     Both Redneck Yacht Club and the Crestline Critters love Aztec Falls.
     I love Aztec as well, but you really have to get their early in Creek Season to avoid the broken glass the trash and the horrible people.
     I thought we had beat the masses to Creek Season.
     We opened the doors of the my SUV and boom! Out of no where two raised pick up trucks with big mud tires packed full of seventeen year old Critters parked on both sides of us. They came out of nowhere. As the dust from the two giant trucks surrounded us my friends and I shoot the doors of my SUV and looked at each other (While trying not to stare at the freak show unraveling around us) Did we really want to stay here today?
     “Oh no. Critter’s!” L proclaimed, and I began explaining to J the Critter infestation.
      “We will just hike to The Peace Pools instead” I told my friends. The Critter’s must be going to Aztec, it’s about a mile past The Peace Pools and a way more popular spot.
     We jumped out of the SUV, trying not to stare at the girl with green hair and the spaced out eighteen year old boy to my right, who already looked stoned at ten A.M.
     We escaped into the forest down the Pacific Crest Trail, J, L and I making our way through the lush forest and on our way to the little pools that hug the banks of the creek.
    We did not want The Critter’s following us.
    There was no one at The Peace Pools and we happily shed our yoga pants and basked in the fantastic spring time sunshine.
   Than we herd stirring in the bushes.
   Yes, it was the Critters.
   Some of them were trying to forge their way downstream on the banks of the creek hiking up and over and through the creek and the boulders and not taking the smart and easy way, the Pacific Crest Trail that was on the ridge line above us.
   We were afraid they were going to try and move the party to The Peace Pools.
   We were fretting over them wanting to join us here and making new meth covered friends, but I just told the girls,
   “We will just be friendly and tell them how much better Aztec Falls is than this spot and they will move on”
   It did work and I tried to tell them how much easier it would be to just hike the PCT to Aztec but they were pretty high and not in the mood to listen.
   Yea, both groups that bushwhacked their way through our secluded spot quickly moved on and we made no new friends this day, thank god.
   I know J walked away from her day at The Creek with some fine stories about the people of the mountains.