Sometimes hikers are not as aware of their surroundings as you might think, or at least that appears to be what some silver-tongued sign salesman convinced the superintendent of this place. “This park has great trees and you want to be sure all the visitors know that,” he might have told the guy.
“What do you suggest?” the dummy asked.
“Well, for starters, you need signs to point out where all the big trees are.”
Voila!
It certainly would be a shame for someone to be passing by these huge trees and not notice them. “Harry, look!” the wife might say. “There’s another one!”
I have often wondered at the lack of curiosity of some travelers. They get out of the tour bus, stare at what is visible from the roadside, take a few photos, then return to their seat on the bus. “I’m getting hungry, Martha.” “Don’t worry. We’ll be at the junction lunch stop in less than an hour.” Just fifteen yards from where they stood, a bright red desert paintbrush flowers in all its magnificence, but they never see it.
There is a place in Zion National Park few tourists see. I discovered the spot quite accidentally as I wandered off the beaten path marveling at my surroundings. It is a vertical wall of sandstone along a dry wash, not far from the road but not otherwise accessible by an obvious trail, covered in several petroglyphs, rock carvings by Native Americans who lived here long ago. Had the Park placed a sign reading “Petroglyphs” with an arrow, I’ve no doubt the place would have been destroyed by graffiti by now. Millions of tourists tromp through our national park system every summer. Most of them mean well, but some are careless, some are thoughtless, and some are just plain dumb. Just as with our much-maligned public school system, attention must be directed at the slowest in our midst. Perish forbid they should not progress with everyone else. So here’s a sign for them: “Park Exit >>>”