​Ranger interactions – stories good or bad

[Guest]

I have had thousands of interactions with Rangers, 99 percent of them good. The 1 percent of them that were being deliberately over officious give the rest a bad name, or at least bad memories. I recall each and every one of that bad 1 percent, and even years later could pick them out of a lineup.

Skwid’s absurd Ranger interaction at Phantom Ranch got me thinking about the few officious power-trip Rangers I have encountered.

For the sake of anonymity I will fudge names and places.

We were camped at Lumbago River State Park, in East Carolinensis, a paddler’s park. It was completely empty when we arrived and remained so while we were there. We were using it as a base to family daytrip the Lumbago River.

Which was a good plan, expect none of the local shuttle services was operating off season.

Chief Ranger Leeway, hearing our one-car plight, offered that he had some time, and would follow me to the town of Fairly Buffy and give me a ride back in his State Park vehicle, asking only that I duck out of sight when we drove through town.

Ranger Leeway stopped by our secluded walk-in site that evening while I was drinking a discrete beer, decanted into a lidded coffee mug. He had a similar beverage container in hand, which I believe contained something stronger.

We had a nice long chat, and he cautioned me to be careful about getting my “Becks” from the van (it was actually Guinness).

The next morning eager young buck Ranger Dickweedhead rolled up while I was prepping gear at the open van doors. I knew he was trouble when I saw him get out; sharp creases in his pressed khaki pants, a Glock his mommy bought him on his hip and a sneer on his lips.

He had nothing visible on me, and I shut the van doors while he regaled me with tales of folks he had busted for alcohol and his pending court dates to prosecute those hideous scofflaws. Yeah, whatever, dude.

He asked me the usual gamed questions. No my first rodeo playing that game, and I gave him disinterested monosyllabic answers ‘til he went away. Seriously, we are the only people in the entire park, family walk-in camping and quiet as church mice. WTF is your problem junior?

Nice State Park, great Chief Ranger, but that best-to-worst interaction in 12 hours time still left a bad taste.

Second most irritating over officious interaction was probably a DNR guy that grabbed my shotgun from my canoe to check my shells while duckhunting.

I’m legal as a beagle here, three shells, no lead shot; don’t just be reaching in and grabbing my gun without asking first. That action really bothered me, and it was everything I could do not to grab his arm when he reached into my canoe.

I have been done so many good turns by Ranger staff, and clued into so many interesting places; it sucks that the ill-mannered 1 percent stand so memorable.

Best or worst Ranger encounter?

 

[Muskrat]

Two of us watching the sun set over the banks of the Missouri River. We probably had two beers each. A razorback and local smokey waiting for us at the start of the trail. They inform us that we can't be there after sunset. The sun has set but it was still light at this time. Of course we're carrying our empty cans back to toss in the trash, so they hassle us for a while. They wanted to search my truck. I get suspected of being a stoner even with my hick accent. Normally I'd tell them to f off, but I didn't put up much fight. My truck is a mess, have fun. No tickets, but they wouldn't let us drive back to our campsite with threats that they'd take us to town to get breathalyzered, so we carried some gear and our cooler 2 miles up the steep road out of the Missouri River valley. They were waiting at the top. I'm polite if they're polite. I was a condescending prick to these two.

I've had too many good interactions with park officials at the fed, state, and local level to list off stories. It's easier to remember the bad encounters, and it's fun to do bad things.


Short but sweet, three single man tents were obviously too much of a burden for one campsite in the eyes of the law. Logic does not work well on these types, when I explained our tents could all fit inside one of the typical car camping tents populating all the surrounding sites. I unstaked mine and put it in the bed of my truck. He came storming back over and I informed him that this is not a tent, it is a recreational vehicle. That really got him going. It was a beautiful night so I slept under the stars. There were no rules against that at least.

 

[yknpdlr]

As a trained/certified SAR Crew Boss, I have what I consider an especially positive relationship with the DEC Forest Rangers in NYS and I consider almost all of them my personal friends. I have been called upon to lead special jobs during SAR incidents. There are several assigned to and near the wilderness and wild forest regions where I live and spend much of my outdoor time. I also teach a course in Land Navigation for NYS Homeland Security, Law Enforcement, and SAR teams. That keeps the personal interaction going and positive. I have from time to time hard stories of certain somewhat gruff Rangers giving some folks a hard time, but given the details, I have to believe those individual cases were well deserved.

 

[Grandpa Paddler]

In my years of camping and paddling I have had very few Ranger/Warden encounters. The two I do remember involved PA DCNR fish cops: On an Allegheny River trip with some fathers and young sons, one rounded us all up for a PFD check. When he found no violations, he still proceeded with legal and safety lectures. Then sped away in his overpowered boat, leaving us bobbing in his wake. On a Susquehanna trip, as we approached our take out we noticed the uniform waiting for us. His first question "how was the fishing?" After watching us unload and finally being convinced we didn't even have fishing gear, he actually helped us load the canoes.

 

[pblanc]

Many years ago, when my first born daughter was still quite young and we lived in Minnesota, my wife and I decided to spend a spring weekend at Madeline Island. We anticipated having to stay at a campsite somewhere on the mainland at Bayfield. The campground at Big Bay State Park on the Island usually had all the reservable sites booked months in advance for all weekend dates. Some sites were available on a first come, first served basis. These usually could only be had by showing up on something like a Tuesday morning and laying in wait until someone packed up and left. We took our car with bikes and camping gear over to the island on the ferry on a Friday morning, anticipating we would need to return to the mainland that afternoon.

We checked out the campground at Big Bay and lo and behold, a number of campsites were vacant. This should have been something of a tip off. The other portend was the fact that although we saw tents and RVs at the campground, not a creature was stirring. I quickly set up a tent and the family went off on a bike ride.

During the ride it was impossible to overlook the fact that the deer flies were really bad. These nasty biting flies would home in and follow you, preferring to bite you on the back of the neck anytime your speed dropped to less than 12 miles per hour.

When we returned to the campground, the fly problem persisted and I began to get an inkling why the campground was partially vacant and no one was moving around outside. We wound up eating inside the tent and retiring early.

The next morning a female park ranger came by my campground and advised me that the site I had selected had been reserved for the weekend, and that I would have to move. I pointed out that the flies were really bad and she told me that usually one or two weeks a year every spring they were like that. I suggested to her that in view of the fly situation, there was a good chance that nobody would show up. If they did, I volunteered to move my tent immediately. "No" she said. I had to move now. My wife and daughter retreated to the relative safety of our car and the ranger retreated to the relative safety of her car, but stayed there and watched me take down my tent and erect it at another site, all the time getting eaten alive. Of course, no one ever did show up at the site I vacated.

We endured another fairly miserable bike ride on Saturday and another early dinner in the tent and then it started to rain. It rained all night and of course, the tent leaked. We endured a fairly miserable night sleeping in wet bags on wet pads semi-floating in a large puddle. Sunday morning came and I strung a line to hang out our bags and pads to dry.

The same ranger showed up shortly thereafter and told me cloths lines were against park policy because they were an eyesore. I pointed out that our gear was soaked and that there was not one other danged soul stirring in the entire campground whose sensibilities might be upset by the sight of my wet gear. Once again, the answer was no, the cloths line and gear had to come down right now. Sure enough, she retreated to her car and watched me take it down, getting bitten by flies the entire time.

That was it. Later that morning I packed up our wet gear in the car and we departed Big Bay State Park never to return.

 

[sweeper]

The only odd 'Ranger' encounter I've had was with a Ranger in the Catskills. I was working the Zero Range at West Point one summer and was told we'd have the weekend off, so I headed for the mountainson Saturday. It was about 3:30 in the afternoon and I was headed out to climb the 3-4000'rs Blackhead, Black Dome and Mt Cole. I met this young ranger coming down the trail who asked me where I was headed. After reminding me of the time and the distance he suggested I rethink my climb, going so far as to tell me that I was wearing shorts and the trail was lined with Stringing Nettles. I told him I had just come off a week of climbing all the 4k's in Rangeley ME area and that I had already climbed Mt Slide and Hunter today. He still insisted I not go, to which I told him he had no authority to stop me, there was no storms in the forecast, I had the correct equipment (minus long pants) and was an experienced hiker. I wished him a good afternoon and pushed past him and that was the only time during the hike that I hit the Stringing Nettles.

The other encounters have all been with the Rangers on the Allagash River and they were all positive.

 

[yellowcanoe]

Juniper Springs we were cited for having a tarp strung around a tree trunk.. There was a ticket stating nothing could touch the tree. No fines. We were using tree hugger straps from the hammock ....duh.. It was pouring rain... You would hope common sense would prevail

I was told my sea canoe was not a suitable craft by a ranger in the permit office of Apostle Islands. I had to have a kayak as canoes were slow and tippy and dangerous. She had never seen a Monarch.. I should have just said it was a kayak.. After lots of discussion on my part about 30 years experience sea canoeing and kayaking on the Atlantic she finally stopped being authoritarian.
That evening we rescued two people going to the Apostles in rec boats with no spray skirts. they swamped close to shore but still swamped. But rec kayaks are ok as they are a kayak..
So if you take your canoe there ... its a kayak.. make it look like one.A spray skirt and some fancy drysuit will help.

The rangers on the Allagash OTOH are wonderful.. We always invite them for a sit down in camp.. We learn some of the history and they love to tell stories. Lunches that way are most enjoyable.

One time the ranger patrolled Eagle lake and stopped by to make sure we knew of a storm coming.. We had a weather radio and did know and were watching the sky so we really didn't need his advice but it was the right thing to do as not everyone reads the weather conservatively.

 

[Odyssey]

For years the only encounter with a Ranger was over the check-in desk at a Canadian Provincial Park. Always courteous, always helpful. I have an unabashed love of them. There. I said it. I love these people who slog the job trying to make a difference in both our own "entitled lives" and the natural one. Kinda like go-betweens or middle managers, balancing our often destructive possessive love of nature and nature herself.
On a road trip with the kids we stopped in a small campground in the Appalachians. Appalachia has been a place and culture I've always wanted to experience. Standing in the camp office with kids in tow we proceeded with the drawl and details. As you all know by now, we Canadians have entirely no accent whatsoever (unless you meet a Newfie, then all bets are off), so when the Ranger tilted back his chair, exhaled and strung out an impossibly long multisyllabic sentence in an untranslatable language, my wife and I focussed real hard and tried to answer; our kids meanwhile burst into spasms of laughter. It didn't help that the Ranger was chewing on a cigar the size of a small country. I quickly hustled the kids out and finished the check-in details. We left the very next morning, rather than staying the extra day we'd paid for and planned on, but not before I stood in front of our friendly State Park ranger to explain. He shifted in his chair and said he'd see to it that a refund was mailed to y'all. I thanked him for his work, and the beautiful condition he kept the park in. (It was immaculate and orderly.) Walking away I remember saying to my wife "That refund will never happen. We can kiss that ten bucks goodbye." The refund arrived before we even got home. Respect.
On another car camping trip in Ontario a couple years ago with our son A and future d-i-l L, there were yahoos making an almighty noise from another site. L complained to the rangers driving by. I didn't expect much, especially as the two rangers were slight young ladies, while the hooligans were carousing young men. On the next pass the rangers stopped and quietly issued a warning. An hour later the ruckus resumed and the rangers made another drive by, this time giving a sterner warning. I know, because we were sitting 50 yards away whispering cheers for these uniformed gals. But the dolts knew no better, because as the rangers drove on the dudes yelled uncomplimentary comments back at the retreating pickup truck. The truck braked, and smoothly reversed. And just as smoothly the young slight rangers gave the jerks one hour to vacate the park. "One. Hour. Starting. Now." I smiled to them as they cruised past on their campground rounds, keeping the peace, and trying to make this natural world a nicer place to play in. Respect.

 

[Jim Dodd]

Short but sweet, three single man tents were obviously too much of a burden for one campsite in the eyes of the law. Logic does not work well on these types, when I explained our tents could all fit inside one of the typical car camping tents populating all the surrounding sites. I unstaked mine and put it in the bed of my truck. He came storming back over and I informed him that this is not a tent, it is a recreational vehicle. That really got him going. It was a beautiful night so I slept under the stars. There were no rules against that at least.

I don't remember the names, but the Park was at Brushy Creek, near Webster City Iowa. The DNR guys were nice ! But they wouldn't allow the three of us more than one tent at a site. The RVs could have a camper, and tents at a site, but tent campers fall under different rules at a Sate Park, at least in Iowa.

We asked the DNR officer if we could just pay for three sites and leave our tents together, they said, No, and that we would have to move then.
I have a bad taste in my mouth for that park, and haven't been back since, to camp.

Rant for the day eeh ?

Jim

 

[Robin]

My daughter was a Federal Law Enforcement Officer for the USFW. She went thru some tough training in Georgia at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center (FLETC).
Her first assignment was on the east coast near Washington at a NWR. She handled all sorts issues, from folks who refused to stay out of restricted areas to poaching. She set up a mechanical deer and caught a father and son shooting it from a window of their car on a refuge public road. She confronted a guy who was illegally parked and while she was talking to him he flipped his cigarette out the window by her feet. She was just going to give him a warning but he ended up with a parking ticket and she made him pick up the butt. She encountered a fellow fishing in a no fishing zone, deep in the woods of the refuge, who turned out to be a convicted felon with a hand gun in his tackle box. She did carry a Glock on her hip, but she also had a pistol strapped to her ankle.
It's a tough job, you work alone, and in her case she found a lot of men gave her little respect out in the field. She now teaches future game wardens in Maine, she left the USFW. Her husband is still there and even he gets the same grief on occasion.

 

[Muskrat]

Good interaction. The same place I was force hiked up the hill, on a different occasion, we had a campsite away from all the others. I was shooting my red ryder at a can in the tree line. I saw the state park ranger pull in a 1/4 mile up and stashed the bb gun. He came up and asked if we were shooting a bb gun, he was my people though, good ol boy from the country, he could tell the same. I didn't hesitate and said it was me.

Him, "No big deal, no guns (not even spring powered) in the park, bs but that's the way it is."

Me, "no problem, sorry you had to get drug out here instead of the camp host asking me to stop."

Shake hands and we're all on our way.

 

[yellowcanoe]

RV ing isn't camping. Well for some of us disabled those are harsh words
And it's getting us paddling. It's a way to get to lots of soft water venues.
Not a big rig by any means.
It's 22 degrees now but we are going paddling.

 

[Robin]

.....no guns (not even spring powered) in the park, bs but that's the way it is."

You can't shoot a .22 on Long Island NY where I grew up so in HS a buddy and I camped upstate NY where you could. While camped at a state campsite we where sitting in camp hanging out we where visited by a NY State Game Warden. Someone had noticed we had the .22's in our campsite and called it in. We told him the situation and he led us to a backwoods shooting area outside the park (old gravel pit iirc). Nice guy.

 

[Nodrama43]

and from the other side of the aisle I would offer......


Unfortunately there are overbearing rude badge heavy (usually younger) folks wearing badges. They are few and far between but they exist. Kinda like the few paddlers, boaters, drivers, hikers, hunters, fishermen/women etc. who are incredibly rude (usually drunk) disrespectful, obnoxious, have warrants, etc. that they deal with on a sometime daily basis. In my career I always tried to respect everyone and give the same friendliness/respect back that I was given. Most of the time that made for a good day for everyone. Sometimes you can't fix stupid though.... I could sit and tell stories for hours about individuals that I had contact with that caused themselves to have a really bad day..... Like the drunk driver that was on his way to the airport to fly to the Caribbean for his own wedding, then tried to take my Glock (on my hip) away from me to kill me as we fought in a snow drift at 3am.....

 

[scoutergriz]

In the hundreds of interactions over the years, I've only had 2 incidents and both turned out to be rather funny. The first was at a conservation area; I was at a family reunion with about 4-50 other family members, there was little drinking (if any) because there were lots of little kids and lots of non-drinkers, so it just wasn't cool. The people in the next site (these are huge, 100 person sites) had no problem though- half were smashed by noon! the bathrooms were past our site and down a little hill so I guess the rangers thought they were coming from our site. Two rangers came by and warned against our drinking. One family member (who shall remain nameless) said no-one is, the ranger said "bullpucky", and proceeded to walk over and open the doors and rummaging through a rental van that an out of town couple had rented to carry supplies (toys, food, full-size bbq's).
Well, that's when things got really interesting! you see, that out of town couple were both RCMP! before the ranger knew what was happening, he was on the ground in a pin, with both Cops screaming RCMP-DON"T RESIST! Local police and the area supervisor were called, the ranger charged with break and enter, and fired on the spot. Apparently there had been problems with this one ranger all summer and they were looking for an excuse to get rid of him. the supervisor refunded all our fees and apologized profusely, and in turn, my in-laws dropped the charges. Most exciting picnic yet!

2nd incident was in another park where I was putting on a demo. Because I was doing for the park, they had given me a site for the weekend, which meant no card on the post- just a piece of paper that said reserved. you guessed it! A ranger came by and said I had to leave-I'm not registered. I said "check with the head ranger" which, to his credit, he did, and was told to "wait right there" The head ranger arrived and asked him if he had checked his notes that morning, of course he hadn't, because right there on the computer, very first line- my name, licence plate, and campsite # "No campsite permit required per the park superintendent."
The head warden asked "junior" "what'd you learn", the response- "check the notes". He apologized profusely, then we sat down, had coffee and chatted for a bit. turned out that "junior" had only been in the service for a year, and came from a problem park with a hard-arse head ranger, so that's how he was taught! He learned in a hurry that it's better to ask than to yell!

 

[snapper]

Thankfully I've only encountered two bad experiences (at least that have left a bad taste in my mouth) over the years. The first was coming back into the states from a trip to Algonquin. We were driving back into NY and the first officer we saw asked us if we fished while on our canoe trip. I said "yes" and he directed me to a specific line for a further check. I eventually reached the head of the line and the officer asked me to produce the fish I'd caught. I told him I couldn't; they were all back in their original lakes. With that he began to dress me down for wasting his time, being in the wrong line, etc., etc., etc. I reminded him that I was only in that line because I'd been directed to it by the previous officer. That kind of got him PO'd a bit as well and he asked me why did I say I'd kept fish? I told him the other individual only asked me if I'd been fishing; not if I'd kept any fish. I told him everything I did was catch & release. For whatever the reason that seemed to torque him off even more. Eventually I reached the toll booth, showed my ID and was on my way. I've only had one other border crossing issue over the years and they've both been with US folks; never the Canadians.

Speaking of which; the second encounter was actually on a bike trip (hope it's OK to share). My wife and I had joined a tour out of the Northeast Kingdom of VT and the trip traveled in Canada for the day. Pedaling in was no problem. Nice folks, brief conversation and a "have a nice day" as we rode away. Coming back couldn't have been more different. I was the only one with a bike bag so I carried everyone's passport so no one had to hold on to anything while riding. I got to the top of the hill, above the crossing point, before everyone else so I waited until they were all in sight. When I knew folks were behind me I rode down the hill and pulled into the crossing guard area. I was immediately met by Mr. Officius; one grade A, small man with a big ego, employee of our government. He immediately began grilling me on why I'd stopped at the top of the hill? Was I a terrorist looking for a weak spot in the USA's defenses? I told him about having everyone's passports, etc. He then told me that was a violation and he could throw the book at me. I wondered where this guy was coming from as I'd never heard that one before. He wanted to take my bike apart to be sure I wasn't smuggling anything into the country when the tour guide went inside to talk to someone else. Eventually he came down off his high horse and I was let off with only a "warning" (for what I still don't know). What bothered me the most about this guy is here is a relatively young individual (probably late 20s) working in an incredibly impoverished area of VT with a steady US government paycheck and benefits in a region where most of the people living there would have given their eye teeth for a third of what it was he was making. His work environment (guard shack) was surrounded by a bucolic VT setting with fresh air and sunshine. Exactly what was his issue? I don't know what he felt he needed to prove; especially to a middle aged fat guy with a beard on a bike?!? I was only too glad to finally pedal away from this individual.

For what it's worth, I've worked with many seasonal & year round rangers over the years; some of them are even former students of mine. I know for a fact that they deal with similar issues to what Robin's daughter has dealt with. Even then, these folks can remain calm and level headed. Since they can do that, why are the "problem" folks so unable to do so? I guess that's the $64,000.00 question.

That's all for now. Take care and until next time...be well.

snapper

 

[Uncle_Skwid]

In defense of Park Rangers everywhere: We are on the same team. I promise. I'm not picking fights and I want my kids and their kids and their kids to all have as much wilderness as possible free of rapists and rabble rousers and beer cans and cat holes. I am a fan of common sense. I am not a big fan of bureaucracy. Bureaucracy's greatest goal is efficiency. Adolf Hitler was an efficient and perfect bureaucrat. He put policies in place, and people followed them. Common Sense must prevail. We are on the same team. I promise.

 

[Glenn MacGrady]

I'd been up paddling for eight hours, since 5 a.m. It was pushing 90 degrees for the fifth day in a row. I'm out of shape and pushing 70.

I'm at the carry around Raquette Falls in the Adirondacks. I had to triple carry part of it. I dumped most of my drinking water to save weight. The rest I muscled and struggled and tugged and pushed and hauled and finessed my loaded gear on a canoe cart for about a mile. Over rocks, around rocks, around corners, up hills, down hills, and frequently stuck in washed-out ditches.

It's hard when your all by yourself to haul a loaded canoe out of a 10" ditch. It would be easy for a two person tandem team. It would be easy to step over it if you were carrying the canoe, but that would have required a triple carry of the whole mile. So I yanked and pulled and pushed and tugged. And sweated and sweated.

My heart was pounding against my chest so hard and so fast I knew -- just knew -- I was going to die. But I sort of accepted it. Die while canoeing. I'd thought about that for decades, and decided it would be my preferred way. Just to go out in my canoe . . . alone . . . and die. Leave no trace.

But I didn't die.

I completed the portage, out of water and out of energy.

The resident ranger at the base of Raquette Falls came over to me and expressed concern over my physical condition. He said I Iooked heat stressed and possibly dehydrated. He asked if I had water, and I told him no, I had dumped out all my reserves and would have to gravity filter some more. He told me to just sit in the pool at the base of the falls and cool off while he fetched something for me.

He came back with two cold bottles of apple juice, an apple, and a half gallon of fresh water. He gave me some packets of Gatorade to mix in the water for energy and electrolyte balance. And then asked if I needed any help reloading my canoe.

I probably looked worse than I really was, but this guy was a saint. I got the feeling he was equally solicitous to everyone who struggled out of that portage.

Evening was closing in, so he advised me where all the campsites and lean-to's were downstream. But every one of them was full and I was paddling like a bat out of heck to try to make the next one, and the next one, and it was getting dark, and . . . . Finally, I gave up and set up my tent on a small clearing next to the river that was not an approved campsite. This is against park rules, as you have to be 50 yards (or something) back from the water to wilderness camp. But I was too exhausted to bushwack into the forest.

The next morning a dangerous thunderstorm with high winds was predicted. Down river comes the same ranger in a motor boat, warning campers of the oncoming danger. He sees me breaking camp by the riverside. He says, "I didn't realize yesterday that all the campsites would be filled, and I bet you were in no shape to hike into the woods." I say, "You got that right." He says, "That was a smart and safe decision," and and gives me a friendly good-bye salute.

I blasted through the storm that morning,

and made it safely to the takeout,

with much gratitude to that perceptive, helpful and dedicated park ranger at Raquette Falls.

When I got home, I did the only thing I could think of. I figured out the name of his supervisor and sent him an email of praise for his employee.

 

[memaquay]

Glenn, I like your choice of bathing suits, and you still rock the two piecer!

 

[Rippy]

Mem beat me to it. I hope I look that good in a swim suit when I'm seventy.