Cut to the chase. One third of the way up the side of the mountain @ Wildwood I slowed down, I took a look down, and, at a distance from my vantage point I saw the Burbank police training facility/firing range, and I saw several of the Burbank police in full riot gear with targets (of human form) just before them, guns ready for rehearsal... One of the riot geared cops lit and tossed out a smoke canister. It popped then smoked an ugly dark smoke cover as the native wind blew left. I stood at a vantage point well above and thought, honestly, "If I was a convoluted idiot with a sniper rifle, oh, how I could take out all of these cops?"... And so I counted sixteen in all, plus a photographer who was, I assume, shooting publicity photos of the police adventure on faux aggressors with a hint of smoke blowing in the foreground. And so it was with my weird, unsolicited, sniper-headshot-kill-the-training-cops-fantasy that I stopped my walk and looked way down the mountain side to the police training center. Okay. So. Smoke canister cop in military dress tossed six more smoke bombs prior to the fifteen Burbank police warriors moving in and firing upon their appointed ugly aggressor targets. Yes, so, from a half a mile away I watched, then, bored with it all, I moved on.
My walk up the mountain path quickly led me to my cut off, which, is a downward path. But, I thought, since I had cut off downward at this point for almost a month and a half, it was now time to venture further up the path to press my constitution into a greater walk time, granting me healthier results from my efforts. Weird, but, at that moment it started to hail. Yes, the soft California rain had turned to hail. It was amazing to feel and see such a thing here in Los Angeles, brilliant. The hail pelted me for several minutes as I walked further up the mountainside. It made me smile. It gave me joy. It made me laugh. And, honestly, I had no idea why hail on a mountain trail was tickling me so - yet tickle me it did!
I thought of my father. I thought of my mother. The hail made me think of my fantastic Michigan history. Not quite Michigan snow, but, yes, it made me contemplate my childhood in a winter-wonderland state. And, so, I guess I figured out exactly why I smiled, then, I laughed.
So I walked up the Wildwood mountianside, then, yes, I did decide to walk further up the path, farther than I usually do. Normally I stop and remove my neck wrap, tie it to my waist and walk the downward path, but, today, the unfriendly California weather talked me into being special, and more, so I decided to walk beyond my usual path. So that is what I did. And, so fifty or so paces beyond my normal walk I found that my eyes were burning and it was difficult to breathe. Sulfur, I'm guessing, from the police practicing a half mile below with their sulfur infused practice smoke bombs and the rain/hail condition holding down the choke. The smell was thick. I retched, yet, true hard ass that I am, continued forward and up the Californian mountainside. And, so I walked. Yes. Until I could no longer breathe as I traveled forward. And so, even though I did not wish to, I turned back. I was choked out and had no other choice. My eyes burned. No, they really burned. I could not see. And I could not breathe. And so I unwillingly moved back off that mountain, even though I wanted to walk straight up to the top!
It was not good that I had to return to position one with burning eyes and throat. Admittedly, I was a bit pissed. A huge interruption to what I was looking for in the day. I just wanted to take a longer than usual walk up a familiar mountainside in the rain in a wonderful jacket, and, so there it was, some fucked up, unwelcome sulfur wafting up from the powers that be, practicing their usual diligence in control, it freaking choked me out.
Wow. I had no idea I was plotting a very contemporary allegory about the current state of political affairs in America - Jeez, how insightful am I?
© john reneaud
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