From the I Should Know Better files: Having grown up in Wausau, Wisconsin, Rib Mountain is a familiar backdrop. We used to think it was a magic tornado barrier, in fact, until the town of Rib Mountain was hit hard by a twister that "jumped" the hill in 1977.
So this past weekend, as part of research for a magazine article, I needed to get a picture of an inscription made in 1913 on the highest point of the mountain. Since I had interviews and a trip to the Wausau library scheduled for the day - - and rain was in the forecast - - I drove out very early, about 7am. The top of the hill was wrapped in cloud cover, but I found the road to the top pretty easily (I'd never driven up the hill before) and made my way up very slowly because deer were everywhere, traveling in packs of four to eight and unafraid of cars.
So I got to the top and pretty much had it to myself. It wasn't too hard to find the rock formation I needed, but it was way too slick to climb to the specific spot where my shot was, so I just wandered around and took pictures as I found them.
Climbed the observation tower and watched the fog and cloud cover blow off the top of the hill. It was very nice.
Contrary to the weather reports, the sun came out later in the day. On my way out of town I figured I'd ride up the mountain again to grab a couple more shots to contrast the grayer morning pictures, and maybe climb the now-dry rocks.
Here's where I become the bumbling fool.
I'd forgotten: Rib Mountain is a State Park, and you can't just go wandering around a State Park for free. I remember seeing signs on the drive up with the word "fee" on them, but figured that was for camping. I drove past an unattended gatehouse - - again, I figured "camping fees."
Well, it's a different world up on Rib Mountain in late afternoon. There was a line of about six cars at the gatehouse, and it seemed clear to me that you had to pay to go further; there was what looked to be a "parking lot for cheapskates" to my left, so, rather than plug up the line and attempt to go through the gatehouse - - where a big "no u-turn" sign was posted - - I turned around and parked in the "lot of last resort."
As I got out of my car I watched a park ranger truck move with great ferver and purpose down to where my car was. Sure enough: "Sir, can you come here please?"
So my transgressions were laid out for me: "Sir, I've got you on a couple of violations."
Violations?!?! On Rib Mountain?
"First of all, I watched you do a u-turn up there..."
And the light finally went on in my head. Of course! They didn't mean "don't use this gateway-and-roundabout to turn around," they meant "don't try turning around before you pay because you're already in a State Park and you owe us money."
"And your second violation was when you drove in here past the 'Do Not Enter' sign..."
Well, in this case, stupidity begat further ignorance. Once you turn around in the place where you're not supposed to turn around, the "Do Not Enter" sign is facing the other way and you can't see it.
The Ranger seemed like a nice enough guy, but his hand was fidgeting near what looked like a ticket book as I croaked out my (sincere!) explanations. In the camera I was carrying were about a dozen photos taken eight hours earlier when I wandered the top of the mountain with impunity, parking my car here, there and everywhere, doubtlessly committing violation after violation.
It was an extremely odd sensation to A) be looked at like a potential troublemaker at my age in innocent circumstances (now, when I was eighteen and on top of Rib Mountain, that was a different story ...), and B) feel the extreme contrast between my wonderfully strings-free time on the mountain in the early morning and the sudden gauntlet of rules, fees and prohibitions that became clear in the afternoon.
Fortunately, the ranger seemed to pity my ignornace and announced, "It's just a verbal warning today," and I skidaddled. No sense in tempting fate by springing for the $3 one hour pass at that point. However, I plan to go camping on Rib Mountain next spring and will definitely square myself with the State of Wisconsin by paying and extra $5 or so for my stay. : )
