Sabot L'ours (sabotlours) wrote,
Sabot L'ours
sabotlours

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"The Monkeywrench Gang"

--by Edward Abbey, namesake to my coon character.

The raccoon was unleashed last night. It felt sooooo good! Let me describe to you where I live. In back of my den is the edge of a mesa approximately 50' high. The top of the mesa is an undeveloped area extending about 2 miles to the north, 1 mile to the east, and 2-3 miles to the west where it is broken by a line of low "extinct" volcanoes. The entire mesa is gridded by gravel roads. In 10-20 years it will most likely be covered in houses. The mesa front right in back of my fence is Petroglyph National Monument. There is a lovely panel of petroglyphs just up the hill from me. Fortunately for me the park extends inward on top of the mesa, so I will never have houses right above me.

When I first moved into my house, the area just above me was a favorite party spot. After a few years of cleaning up beer bottles and cans, fast food containers, and the occasional used condom, I decided to take action. I began by cratering the gravel road with pits 1'x1'x2' deep. This cut down on a lot of traffic. After cleaning up after a few more parties I started connecting the pits. Soon I ended up with my "tank trap;" a pit 4'x8'x4' deep. It was on a November night last year while deepening the pit that the name Sabot popped into my head, being the saboteur that I was. The amount of trash dumped on that spot was reduced by about 99%. I had let the trap fall into disrepair since I hadn't needed to clean up any garbage.

Last night while taking Anubis for his walk I noticed that someone had a party up there the night before. There were beer cans and plastic cups strewn everywhere. The bear inside became enraged and I growled loudly. The coon side of me just smiled a sly grin and whispered, "Don't get mad. Get even!" So after my walk I put on my dark clothes, donned my ski mask for dramatic effect, grabbed my pick and shovel and began reconstructing the tank trap. I dug for over an hour straight. It felt wonderful being in the cool night air, the blackness of the mesa all around me, the moon providing more than ample light, the lights of the city below. I dug until my arms couldn't lift another shovelful. With each shovel I kept saying the line "What's that on your face?" *LOL* (AoD reference). It appeared that I have the main road cratered enough to stop most folks. I need to go back up tonight and dig up a side road that was established by folks avoiding the main trap. I also have ideas that will require fenceposts and Quickcrete. I might also reinstate my rebar traps. I pound 8' rebar into the center of small bushes. When Joe Yahoo decides to 4 wheel across the plain, he gets a little surprise. There's nothing more satisfying than seeing tire tracks leading over a bush and a bent hunk of rebar. It would even be better to see a trail of oil leading away. *raises paw* Earth First!
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