Letter of the Week
On May 22, The Bulletin ran an article concerning trail use in the Deschutes National Forest. In it a representative of the Deschutes County 4-Wheelers argued for the construction of “more trails that are designed with boulders and logs and things…to go over.” She surmised that “(i)f you give them (drivers of Jeeps and 4-wheelers) something exciting enough to keep their interest, they won’t go where they’re not supposed to go.”
This is precisely the method I use to keep my two kitties out of mischief. I am told that it also works well with very small children.
Peter G. Howse
This article appears in Jun 5-11, 2008.
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Howse: I suspect you never get out of the safe little howse… er… house. It is probably completely beyond your narrow, limited, circumspect, boring, predictable, simpering, sarcastic, kitty loving capacity to appreciate the concept of pitching yourself and a vehicle you have set up yourself, against an extremely difficult envirionment just to see if you can ‘gitter done.’ You don’t strike me as the type likely to run the Iditerod, either. You’ve probably never strapped a steel shoe on your left foot and tore ass around a dirt track at over a hundred mph on a very powerful and twitchy stripped down hopped up motorcycle, either. You’ve probable never even jumped out of a perfectly good airplane.
It appears that there is probably a whole world of manly mischief out there that you probably don’t understand or have the balls to explore. How do I know? Because you are clueless…
Peter,
Looks like you got under ol’ Buff’s faux macho skin a bit. Too bad Buff feels that the only way he can feel his balls is when he’s dependent upon something powered by an internal combustion engine. It would be interesting to see just how “ballsy” ol’ Buff might be if he tried hucking a mountain bike off a 20-foot drop or led the crux pitch of a multi-pitch rock route at Smith. Me thinks his nuts would be very tiny indeed.
Buff Ball Envy: It doesn’t have anything to do with the internal combustion engine. It has to do with risk. Risk doesn’t care how you arrive at it’s doorstep. If your minuscule brain wasn’t as numb as your minuscule cajones you’d know that. Relative risk level is… relative risk level. I’ve kept it simple, so with study and lots of assistance, there is at least a minor, though remote, possibility you’ll get a grip on the subject matter.
Peter, You sound like another one of those elitests that believe this country is only for them.