I ran across this anguished heart cry from a sanctimonious control freak agitated park visitor.
Here is the Reddit thread that inspired the article.
Others taking risks doesn't "ruin it for the rest of us." It ruins it for the risk-takers when things go wrong.
I responded to the thread with a sardonic comment, milder than the ones that got the most upvotes, and was promptly blocked from seeing the thread. It wasn't hard to see the thread by opening an anonymous browser session, and I noticed that a few had replied similarly, but the comments that got the most upvotes, by far, were the ones offended that people would do something so sociopathic as to take a measured risk to walk out to a rocky point to see the view.
Many years ago my family hiked the Sol Duc Falls trail in Olympic National Park to the bridge over the falls. I wanted to get a picture from downstream like the iconic image I'd seen in calendars.
When we reached the bridge, I backtracked to find the side trail that I must have missed; the one that led to the viewpoint where so many pictures had been taken. There was none. What I saw was a sign along the log fence bordering the trail a hundred yards or so before approaching the bridge, warning people to stay on the path because landscape or habitat restoration was in progress. A path on the other side of the fence through the undergrowth had seen a lot of use. It led through the trees to the edge of the gorge with an unobstructed view of the bridge. It was a treacherous place, a tiny cliff edge barely wide enough to stand on, perched fifty feet or so above the narrow gorge. One slip and you would fall off the cliff into the rushing water below. But people regularly took the risk to capture a spectacular photo.
I thought about the Park Service blocking a trail that thousands of people had trodden over the years. Clearly it was a spot that many people wanted to visit, despite the danger, to see the view and take a picture. The sensible thing to do is build guardrails at the cliff edge to prevent people from falling. But they decided to block the trail with a warning. And the warning wasn't about potential danger, probably because they thought it might encourage the people who were looking for the view they had seen in pictures. It was a strange response.
Over the years I've noticed similar perverse responses. I remember chuckling about a well-worn path across a lawn on a college campus that students used as a shortcut between sidewalks. The grass was worn away to the soil, which was compacted from regular use and turned muddy when it got wet. It was a blemish on a beautifully maintained lawn. The administration tried for years to dissuade its use by roping it off and erecting signs, but it remained heavily trafficked, for obvious reasons. Finally some bright soul realized that nothing worked and paved the shortcut. Problem solved. Students regularly use the handy shortcut now, the lawn on either side is lush, and the path never gets muddy.
Too bad we don't have more creative problem solvers in government. And fewer people looking down their noses on those who do things that don't affect them.
