My fantasy job? Park Ranger. I just love the idea of roaming around the wide wilderness world of a National Park, basking in the glory of God's creation. And chasing the rare unauthorized camper out of a stolen site.
Sadly, my myth has been busted. Here's the story from NPR.
"Park rangers are 5 times more likely to be assaulted than US Border partrol officers, and 12 times more likely to be attacked than FBI agents."
There are half as many rangers now, and twice as many visitors as twenty years ago. "People come on vacation and leave on probation," says one Ranger, relating a common saying.
Geysers. Buffalo. Meth labs. Body dumps. "You don't get into anything that you can't handle yourself because there is no backup." It certainly is a fallen world.
I probably should have known better, having read Men For the Mountains, by Sid Marty; a classic, and highly recommended for strong storytelling and writing.
Guess I'll stick to wandering around the wilderness inside my head, taking words captive and throwing them into sermons. At least for now.
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