jokes on us


It was getting dark and we were starting to lose hope.  We had driven around for almost an hour and a half looking for a place to park and sleep. False leads and the dream of an "amazing & free overnight parking/camping spot" are going nowhere. All three of us are tired and a bit frustrated. Denver spots an empty driveway above the highway and quickly spins the wheel.  We find ourselves on an empty hillside. The piles of garbage make a convincing case that the area isn't patrolled or private property. We look around at each other; old couches sit slouching into moldy decay, a string of burned-out Christmas lights grace a nearby bush.  It's certainly not inviting but we didn't have many options. No one wanted to shell out $35 for some campsite. If there even was a campsite still available at 9pm on Friday night of Labor day weekend. We unanimously decide to call it a night and make camp. 

About fifteen minutes later we see some lights down the hill near the entrance. Afraid that we'd be locked in or told to leave I just decided to be proactive and go say hi. Off I trotted down the hill.  It was just a couple of lineman and they didn't seem to have a problem with our location, "it's fine if you park, just be sure to close the gate up nice and tight when you leave," they said. I nod my head happily..."yes, yes, It will be the best lock-up you've ever seen." So relieved that they weren't going to kick us back out on the highway.

As they start their trucks and prepare to leave, two of them walk over to where we're reading in the car.
"Don't forget to close that gate" they remind us."We've been splicing some stuff down there, and don't want anybody to get into it."
This seems slightly odd, as the power lines are on poles fifty feet off the ground, but we are eager to please.  "Of course," we say, "we won't forget."

The next morning we wake after a rather uneventful night, save for Jocelyn having a fright because of the moonbeams glinting off of a piece of garbage that looked like the beady eyes of a small and dangerous animal. As we drive out to the highway we pause to close the gate. As I step out of the car I realize that something is amiss.What used to be the gate is a mangled piece of wreckage; rusty and about six feet away from the hinges.This gate has clearly not been closed in years.

Whoever says linemen don't have a sense of humor needs to pay a visit to the crew in Santa Cruz.

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