Team Small dog visits the forest, and the same old story starts again.

So on a Sunday when I don't work, and there's no dog thing to go to, we always go up to the forest. I'm not naming names of this forest, or the Evil Jurisdiction it falls under, but we've walked in this forest for years and years and it's always been the best dog running forest there is. Even if dogs maybe are not supposed to run there by decree of the Evil Jurisdiction that I don't name here anymore because of this little debacle I like to call the Courtroom Drama. Maybe you remember all that. Besides teaching me about our State's great legal system, creepy comments started coming in on Team Small Dog and also creepy run ins with the Evil Robots of the Evil Jurisdiction and everything got way too creepy.


We park in an undisclosed location, maybe hike in to a place that may be labeled NO DOGS. We may actually walk through up to 3 various No Dog Allowed jurisdictions in one trip to the forest. Which is a now forest run only for Gustavo and Ruby and a forest walk on damn leash for Otterpop and her damn hinky leg. Poor Otterpop. I don't follow her vet's advice 100% which is to tote her around in a damn stroller.


The forst is attached to the flowy, wide meadow that looks like it stretches all the way to the sea. It's probably the most beautiful place in the whole entire world. I had my tiny pocket camera with me, but no photos I could ever take do our forest justice.


Every time I walk there, I get blown away by the righteous level of stunningness and feel unbelievably luckylicous. It can render me speechless. YO.


Revel in the rendering.


You can see forever from the top of the meadow, before you drop down into the dark of the redwoods. I'd like to say I take the dogs in there for cross training fitness for agility, but really it's just because I like to let them run in the woods and I could walk around in there forever, just staring at trees and moss and rocks.


Once you're in the forest, it gets dark and damp. There's a couple caves and a river, old kiln artifacts and long gone structures. I know I still haven't found every single track and trail in there. Sometimes we explore new paths, other times we walk on our old favorites. Some people live way out in there, under tarps strung under trees. We haven't been out there in a while because of Otterpop's leg, and I will remind you of the damn stroller part of this Otterpop, every time you protest about being tied to me.


We share the forest. Some days in the forest, not another soul out there. On Sundays, a lot of mountain bikers come down the steep hill they call Mailboxes. Sometimes we hang out at the dramatic bottom part and watch to see if they crash on the steepest part of the hill. It's a good show.

How do I tell you this next part. So you don't cry. I'll just say it.

She Ranger. On a bike, packing pistol.

That's right. The Evil Jurisdiction is now sending their pawns out into the forest on mountain bikes. Oh boy oh boy did she hit the motherlode today. Because bikers were out, and then here comes running off leash dogs.

Poor Gary. He saw her same time as me, and I know his first thought. Laura's big mouth and mad camera skillz are going to get us shot. Or at least ticketed. But hello. Deep dark forest and big fat gun, and I've learned a thing from the creepy internet stalkers and trucks following me. They win.

So I decided my best tactic was to pretend she was invisible and la la la just keep sauntering down the trail, past where she's apprehended the rogue mountain bikers. She stops me, and asks do I know I an in the Evil Jurisdiction? Where did I come from?

I was vague. Sort of gesturing up to the treetops, and say I walked there. From a road.

Which road? She gave me a couple of choices.

I decided to do a faraway look in my eyes, and say Um. A lot. Um, I walked. We walked. We were walking, and we walked here. Gary wasn't saying nothin'. He was very impressed with my new persona.

She made me leash everybody up, and explained I was in an Evil Jurisdiction and blah blah blah and the gist being, Go Back Whence you Came.

She didn't recognize me. I didn't know her. She came from a different Office of Evil than the one I tangled with for so long. And it is amazing, when you don't whip out your camera and start a photo shoot of cops, how different they treat you. Like don't whip out the ticket pad or set hand on top of handgun. Even though I was less than forthcoming of the information she was desiring to hear.


I leashed, and we reversed, and this is where it got really good. Because she had rounded up like 8 bikers from the forest and was making them go back out, Up Mailboxes. NO ONE goes up Mailboxes. You go down. Straight down. You ask your mountain bike friends about that. She sat at the bottom of the hill, and watched them start shoving their bikes up, against gravity.

We walked up to the ridgetop where we came, from our vague direction, and let the dogs go when I was pretty sure she wasn't coming for us. Dogs were small potoatoes for her, I guess. She was out for the bikes. Who have been using that forest forever. Who were now hiking it back up for a long, long way.

Gary was super impressed by my persona that let us walk away unticketed and unshot. It's a big forest. I think we can walk in other sections of it, I guess, and not run into them. The Evil Jurisdiction is supposedly out of money and can't afford patrols. Maybe they can afford bike patrols only? Were going to start closing forests. How do you close the forest? I dunno. Maybe she wrote tickets to all the bikers. Tell all your bike pals about this new trend. For us, just the sad part of a happy day.