Dan and I pick up the Clallam Bay beach as we're walking, or at least the mile or so on the east side of the Clallam River. We're not civic-minded; we just don't want to look at it. We've hauled off all manner of crap over the years, from tiny to huge, from unknown scrap of plastic to bags of human shit to old rusty lead pipe to an ancient rusty compressor to a complete toilet (we had to break it up and carry it away in pieces).
|Dan with all the garbage we found on the entire beach behind him. Now. In 2003 when we moved here? Just imagine.|
Yesterday, in passing the Clallam River park bridge, we placed some garbage at the head of the attached ramp, to pick up when we got back, to dump, as we've been given permission, in the park dumpster. I make no assumptions about whether any of the following people thought a raggedy chunk of fiberglass and a broken tin roof fragment belonged to anybody or was other than junk:
|Three catch-and-release trout fishermen. Stepped over it.|
|Two blimpish white boys who gave us a dirty look on the beach (we have black hair). Went around it.|
|Three aware-looking teenagers. Probably not aware of the junk.|