I am ashamed of my selfishness.
I resent the man who parked his truck on our road, backed up to the creek, swigging beer from his cooler cup, while chatting with a different man who parked his big red tractor in the middle of the road, blocking access to my route home.
Did you know that nobody owns a stream? Anybody can use it for whatever their desires. There was a lawsuit with the DNR several years ago concerning folks who ride their 4-wheelers up and down the creeks, stirring up the mud and aquatic life and property owners on either side. I'm thinking the motorized vehicles were banned due to pollution issues. I'm no lawyer, so don't quote me. I'm just making the point that if you have a creek or stream on your land, it's like a public playground. People can float it, hike it, bathe in it, set up their lawn chairs and chill in it. Nobody owns a stream. That does not, however, mean they can traipse across your property to access it.
My issue today was that this creek fellow did not enter the waterway at a public access point. He drove two hundred yards up the private gravel road paid for and maintained by the people who live on this road. It is not a through street. It has signs proclaiming its private roadness. Signs widely ignored by the public, who enjoy dumping portable meth labs, tree-service trimmings, old refrigerators, couches, fast-food wrappers, and cardboard beer cartons.
I'm sure our little gravel-roadside creek is attractive to people who wish to enjoy nature without succumbing to the laws of the Missouri State Parks. Those pesky nuisance ordinances such as no alcohol, no fires without a fire pit, fishing license required, area closes at dark, etc.
That does not mean that we who maintain our roads and land want to entertain anonymous squatters on holidays. At least the red tractor man had the common decency to hop on his rig and finesse it farther off the road more traveled by.
But that made little difference.
I'm a bitter, cold-hearted, hateful woman. I wish to deny Tom, Dick, and Harry the right to drive up our roads and dip their tootsies in our creek. Legitimate landowners here have guests who come out for the holidays. They ride their 4-wheelers on our several miles of gravel. Sometimes, the riders are mere kids. Would I want my kids passing by Tom, Dick, and Harry who are drinking roadside? Nope. I'm a bitter, cold-hearted, hateful woman. And I don't foresee a personality change before Labor Day.