I was going to write something about our little adventure at the Headwaters Trail yesterday, but my wife Marianne beat me to the punch. Here, in essence, is a letter she sent in to the Times-Standard editor, somewhat in the vein of their Toasts and Roasts format:

Toasts to the Bureau of Land Management for upgrading the Headwaters Park trail into a beautiful, accessible and inspiring resource for all ages and mobilities. The wide, paved pathway through the redwoods will accommodate strollers and wheelchairs alike, while the surrounding landscape has been cleaned of dead brush and has had rain friendly culverts installed to ensure the continued maintenance of the trail. My husband, our dog and I enjoyed another visit on the last afternoon of 2007.

Roasts to the cretins who smashed the windows of our truck and a nearby van parked in the Headwaters parking lot in order to steal my purse with under $15 cash in it. Of course, it also contained many personal items as well as ID and bank cards that these scuzz bums probably ditched within a mile of the park.

Toasts to the young woman who, after witnessing the crime, took the time to walk out of the park to a nearby residence in order to report it to the authorities,  and then waited around for quite a while for said authorities to arrive.

Roasts to the nearby resident who refused to let our good Samaritan use their telephone to call 911, nor did he offer to use his phone to call on her behalf. (what was THAT about?!)

Toasts to the family who showed up to hike and instead spent their time driving back out the road to make a second call for assistance.

Roasts to the cell phone companies whose signals drop out a few miles from a major highway leaving us stranded next to the parking lot sign containing the BLM phone number to call in an emergency.

Toasts to the BLM ranger who followed up with a thorough report, encouraged us by sharing their familiarity with this particular miscreant and patiently scoured the nearby brush with us for signs of our stolen items.

Roasts to my unnamed Credit Union which hosted the only card I couldn’t put an immediate hold on, but was told to wait until after the holiday and drop by the office. (aarrgh!)

Ah, Humboldt – we love you, in spite of your shortcomings!