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Here you see the front end of the DNR truck that I saw parked along the trail as John and I returned from a 2 hour ride in Wrenshall this morning.
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The Hell's Angels are holding a multi-day rally in the town next door to Wrenshall, and local media have been having a field day - either reporting in detail on how dangerous the Hell's Angels really are, or writing parody pieces about locking your daughters up in the basement etc. Law enforcement has made elaborate arrangements to contain any dangerous activities, so I was not surprised to see at least 4 police cruisers going slowly along the road where we were happily jogging in the bright sun.
Little did I know they were all looking for me and John, the outlaws of the day!
Here's what happened:
Along the trail, which is a multiple use hiking-biking-horse trail according to the DNR's own website, we had passed several other multi-users: a hiker who smiled and said hi, several groups of bicyclists who did likewise and two who did not. These two gave me and Johnnie a look that would have had our obituaries in tomorrow's paper if looks could kill. I wish I'd gotten a picture of them as their hi-tech biking gear was a dazzling sight to see - I particularly admired their neon-frame goggles.
However, they did not admire us and they stopped a few yards past us to begin furiously dialing numbers on their cell phones. I believe they must have made a general 911 call to produce the amount of law enforcement response we got.
The poor guys who finally got deployed to apprehend us were forced to drive their lovely truck across a deep ditch and through a very dense tansy patch, where they sat with all windows up (no doubt to keep the flies out) and awaited us.
I have to say they were as friendly as could be, and found it amusing that John wanted to climb inside the truck and change the channel on their service radio, or eat their doughnuts or something.
They told me some bicyclists had reported a dangerous horse on the trail. Here he is, just about to eat a bicyclist, or a daisy:
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They also told me that horses are not allowed on this trail at all. I described in detail the DNR map I had looked at just last night, and they retreated to the position that "There's a guy back in the office who knows about this stuff", and gave me his phone number. I called him when I got home but only managed to talk to another staff member who deferred to this other guy's superior judgment and asked me to call back Monday.
This Mr. Deferment was nice too though; he said "Now you'll be stewing about it all weekend!" How did he know I am a total worrywort?
The good news: John was super about the big trucks passing, the bicyclists sneaking up behind us, the DNR dudes reaching out suddenly to pet him on the nose...he only showed a little opinion about the pace we should take on the homeward route. His idea was "Let me get us home as fast as possible; the Hell's Angels might be coming!"
And mine was, "Let's mosey so I can maybe see those neon goggle bikers again and say something passive-aggressive" -- such as, "I hope you are having a nice ride! {BITCHES!!!}" We compromised and made it home in only half the time it took us to get to our turnaround point, this bridge which I decided was not horse-safe:
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This whole episode worries me because I feel the world is closing in on horses, somewhat. Will there be a day when horses have no trails left, when the neon-goggle crowd and the developers and the fencers-out have won?
My mean little fantasy: Perhaps a band of Hell's Angels apprehended the crabby lying bicyclists, stole their goggles, and forced them to ride with playing cards clothes-pinned to their bike spokes the rest of the day. Wapwapwapwap. SO not cool. :)