Except for one little sign, there is nothing to tell you it's there. And then there's the long, winding, car-and-a-half wide road up and up and around the side of a mountain. Sites were $35 a night... uh oh. We pulled over and scrounged for cash monies, coming up with a twenty, eight ones and seven dollars in quarters. Then we drove into what has to be one of the tiniest state park campgrounds ever. There was one circular road surrounding a field sixteen deer shit piles in width, with tents and campers all along the outer edge.
We drove around until we found the camp manager's site, where we met Steve, the most amazing park ranger we've ever met. He is also the most amazing person we've met the entire time we've been in this godforsaken state. We're betting he's from Oregon.
Steve: There are a couple of available sites right down here and one across the way next to the bathroom.
Me: Awesome... Do you have showwwers?
Steve: Yes, we do.
Me: I love you.
Steve: There are no campsites available.
:(
We parked our ass in the campsite right next to his, argued about where to set up our tent:
Ang: I'm pretty sure that's a trail. I can see it. It's a trail.
Britt: Fuck you. I want to camp HERE.
Ang: I don't think that's even a campsite anymore.
Britt: ::shines light in my face, then the ground, then my face, then the ground again:: Fuck you!
We compromised. In somebody else's site.
Britt grabbed some wood laying around the trail/campsite, threw it into the fire drum and yelled "TA DA!" Except by wood, I mean log. And by log, I mean tree limb.
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| She did break it in half, but not before knocking me over a rock with it first. |
Steve came by all apologetic and frazzled because there was some head honcho ranger dude around all day. Also, Steve wore a legit Park Ranger Outfit. He started telling us about some of the campground details such as where the bathrooms were located, where the showers were, where some of the awesome views are, and told us that we should just knock on his truck window if we needed anything. Truck?! He explained that he'd loaned his normal sleeping situation to a group going to Burning Man (Awesome Steve #1).
At this time, I pulled out our little plastic baggie of wrinkled bills and quarters and started counting it out for him.
Me: 20, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8... 9... 10... 11... Oops, I mean, 30. I mean, 31. 32... 33... 33.5... 34. 35! Ha!
Apparently if you try to pay the state park rangers seven dollars of your camping fee in quarters, he just shakes his head, throws a dollar bill back on the table with the rest of the quarters, and offers you the senior discount instead. Hobo-five! (Awesome Steve #2) Next he flashed the light up to our fire and shook his head again:
Steve: That right there is what we call 'found wood' and in the state of California is highly illegal.
Me: Well, we're off to a good start here.
But then HE apologized for not mentioning it to us sooner, and said it was his fault. (Awesome Steve #3)
He seemed like he was having a bad day. When we asked, he said this used to be a five ranger park and now it's just him. For ALL of it. While he drove off to do his quiet time rounds, Britt and I decided we would do something to cheer him up.
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| High-five high five! |
We caught him again as he was showing another late arrival (it was 11pm by this time) into the campsite next to ours. Where we'd put our tent. Oops. Good thing we never staked that sucker down. Steve wasn't going to make us move it. He apologized for not noticing it sooner and said we could figure it out. He also apologized for our new neighbors, saying they 'had high levels of testosterone and little ability to whisper'. (Awesome Steve #4)
The flush toilets were all occupied when we went to brush our teeth, so we waited. And waited. And sang the Jeopardy theme song. And waited. And were joined by three other people. And we all coughed loudly and pointedly. And waited. Then Steve appeared again (THIS MAN IS EVERYWHERE), and knocked on the door to make sure none of his campers had fallen into the toilet or something. He wanted to make sure the paper products were well stocked before he went to bed, because there is no more dire emergency than some woman knocking on his window at 3am because she ran out of TP. According to him, this happens frequently. (Awesome Steve #5)
Finally, one of them emerged. ONE.
Guy: Oh, wow, there's a line.
Steve: Yep, all waiting for you to finish.
Guy: I was brushing my teeth.
Me: That was a looooong toothbrushin'.
::peanut gallery laughter::
Guy: ::hurt expression:: I had a toothache today. It really hurt. I was crying, actually.
::sea of i-don't-give-a-shit-i-want-to-take-a-piss-you-asshole looks::
Except then Steve locked the door and dashed off to find paper products! So when the other guy (finally) emerged to our crowd of dirty looks, Britt and I tried to run into that one instead. Steve bulldozed over us into the room and completed his mission. (EVERYWHERE, I TELL YOU! THIS MAN IS EVERYWHERE!)
***
The next morning we woke up to the cold California mountain air. I swear, this state has the most volatile temperatures and cell phone reception I've ever encountered. We broke down the campsite, packed up the car and ended up behind Everywhere Steve as we headed over to the showers. Can we pass him? Do we stay behind him? Should we turn around and go the other way? Isn't this a one way? Maybe I'll just stop and pretend we're looking at directions so we don't rush him-- Hey! He just put his hand out the window and fist-bumped that little kid wearing the shark helmet on his scooter! This man is the shit! (Awesome Steve #6)
The next time he stopped, I grabbed Pandarilla and my camera, and jumped out.
Me: Can I ask you a big favor?
Steve: Sure, as long as I don't have to take my clothes off.
Me: Nope, I just want you to hold this panda bear and let me take a picture.
Steve: ... I think I'd rather take my clothes off.
Since we can't briefly describe the whole juggling drag queen panda bear thing, we just showed him the picture of the real Pandarilla that Nikki drew. Steve shuddered a bit and said it was going to give him nightmares, but he still posed with Pandarilla for a picture!
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| (Awesome Steve #7) |
The showers were coin-operated. $0.25 for 40 seconds of water. I was lucky in that Britt was the one to suffer through the water needing to warm up first. Have to say, though, after taking a three quarter shower, I feel like such an indulgent wastrel for all the times I've just stood under hot running water for fifteen minutes straight.
As we were leaving, we saw Steve again (EV-ER-Y-WHERE.) He told us where we could get some hot coffee and wished us well before heading back to his truck. His parting words?
Steve: Oh, damn, I forgot. Gotta go get that rattlesnake.
Us: W-w-what?!
Steve: Yeah, another camper mentioned it. I have to go get it.
Us: W-w-what?!
Steve: ::patiently, like he's talking to five-year olds:: You know. I have to go get the rattlesnake. Before it bites anyone.
Us: Oh... ohhhkay.
AWESOME STEVE #8.
As we left, we passed the Visitor's Center. Which was closed. Because there's only Steve.
Then we reached the stop sign at the entrance hut. Which was unoccupied. Because there's only Steve.
So maybe he can't be everywhere, but he always appears where and when he's needed, making his rounds and ensuring that every person who visits Sugarloaf Ridge has the best possible time they can. It was clear from the moment we met him that he loves this place and is dedicated to his park. He is the only bright spot we found in California.
Like I said. We think he's from Oregon.
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| We give it a ten. |
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