A Walk In The Woods

We greeted the park rangers as we huffed and puffed our way up the ridiculously steep Matt Davis trail. We stopped to chat, more so to catch our breath. Friendly chaps, they were, patiently answering all our questions.

“How do you become a ranger?

Do you work just in this park or lots?

Why aren’t dogs allowed on the trails?

How much is the fine for having dogs on the trail?

Is the fine per person or per dog?”

Once we were sufficiently rested we continued on. The rangers stayed in the same spot. Another party rounded the bend, a father and his teenage son enjoying the wilderness. When the two groups met, we heard the father exclaim, “Oh. It’s the police!”

“Ranger, sir. We really prefer the term ranger,” spoken with the same patient tone used with us only moments before.

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