Jul
16th
A Beaver Banker's Perspective...
By Rally_Kia
Well, I hear that Spider Lake is in trouble. It makes me sad, and
it makes me recollect a not so fond childhood memory.
Way back when I was a young'in, we had this nice big chunk of woods we would play and bike in. I'm sure a lot of you had a similar spot. A place you could build forts and treehouses. Put ricketey bridges over streams. Go and catch frogs or track critters. It was a magical place where you forgot about school, about troubles at home, and learned about the beauty and delicacy of nature. It kept you sane and young.
Well, as the years slipped past us, we noticed more and more development and logging. At first, it was a little swath here and there. You know, not too bad. Good for paintball, we thought. Then came the dozers. Once they show up, it's done for. So you go in deeper, and try explore once previous "wild" areas, and try link up all your old haunts. Pretty soon you find yourself using roads and yards to get around it. The creatures are gone, or drastically diminished. And pretty much one day, we realized that all those good old times were at an end. No more BMX'ing out to the old fishin' hole. No winter hikes with the promise of warm beans and a can of sardines at the halfway point. No awesome camps with the old "Green Gables" store sign for a roof. It was nice to be able to dissappear out the back yard and slip into the trees and become one with it, as opposed to living in an area surrounded by wealthier folk with sprawling yards, some still bearing the mark of 20 or 30 feet of old trail here and there.
But, those very same woods that taught me so much also taught me a great hobby and lesson. Mountain Biking. Now, instead of forts and treehouses, we build singletrack, bridges, teeter-totters and skinnies. We might have to ride or drive to our spots, but we have 'em! We love them, we use them and we share them. But, we sometimes get a disturbing reminder that we don't own them. And that leads me back to Spider Lake. If the stories are true, a good little bit of it will be lost to logging in the very near future. That makes me sad enough, but I can't help but think about all the people I know that have helped make it the trail system that it is today. I won't name them all for fear of making it public, and also not remembering or knowing everyone involved, but it must hurt them a bit. So, a special thanks to all who made it the wonderful place that it is. As with Whopper and Fight and undoubtedly other trails, we must appreciate and enjoy these trails while they are in our midst.
As sad as it may be, when I think about my boyhood wilderness, I don't cry. I only think of the good times.
When the next thought crowds out my feeble mind, look for it here. Until then.
Rally_Kia
Way back when I was a young'in, we had this nice big chunk of woods we would play and bike in. I'm sure a lot of you had a similar spot. A place you could build forts and treehouses. Put ricketey bridges over streams. Go and catch frogs or track critters. It was a magical place where you forgot about school, about troubles at home, and learned about the beauty and delicacy of nature. It kept you sane and young.
Well, as the years slipped past us, we noticed more and more development and logging. At first, it was a little swath here and there. You know, not too bad. Good for paintball, we thought. Then came the dozers. Once they show up, it's done for. So you go in deeper, and try explore once previous "wild" areas, and try link up all your old haunts. Pretty soon you find yourself using roads and yards to get around it. The creatures are gone, or drastically diminished. And pretty much one day, we realized that all those good old times were at an end. No more BMX'ing out to the old fishin' hole. No winter hikes with the promise of warm beans and a can of sardines at the halfway point. No awesome camps with the old "Green Gables" store sign for a roof. It was nice to be able to dissappear out the back yard and slip into the trees and become one with it, as opposed to living in an area surrounded by wealthier folk with sprawling yards, some still bearing the mark of 20 or 30 feet of old trail here and there.
But, those very same woods that taught me so much also taught me a great hobby and lesson. Mountain Biking. Now, instead of forts and treehouses, we build singletrack, bridges, teeter-totters and skinnies. We might have to ride or drive to our spots, but we have 'em! We love them, we use them and we share them. But, we sometimes get a disturbing reminder that we don't own them. And that leads me back to Spider Lake. If the stories are true, a good little bit of it will be lost to logging in the very near future. That makes me sad enough, but I can't help but think about all the people I know that have helped make it the trail system that it is today. I won't name them all for fear of making it public, and also not remembering or knowing everyone involved, but it must hurt them a bit. So, a special thanks to all who made it the wonderful place that it is. As with Whopper and Fight and undoubtedly other trails, we must appreciate and enjoy these trails while they are in our midst.
As sad as it may be, when I think about my boyhood wilderness, I don't cry. I only think of the good times.
When the next thought crowds out my feeble mind, look for it here. Until then.
Rally_Kia
Viewing 1 - 1 of 1
