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"That's what I mean. Sorry."
"Why the hell hot? Nobody else is here."
"This is a scenic overlook. There are no picnic facilities—water, plumbing, garbage disposal."
"Hell," the man said, nodding to the forest beyond the road, "there's about 10 million acres of those woods. I guess we'll make out O.K. We're used to roughing it."
"You'll have to move," repeated Hardin. "If everybody used the area for picnicking or camping, it would be," the ranger paused delicately, "it would be an unsanitary mess in a day or so. You'll have to move now."
"O.K., O.K.," the man surrendered with little grace. Slowly he and his family began to repack. Hardin drove on up the highway but at the first wide place in the road swung around and returned to the scenic overlook. The family was continuing its picnic.
"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to move now," Hardin said, his words having about the same ring as an anti-bear pick handle tapped on a stone.
The family began to pack a second time but somewhat more seriously than before. Hardin purposely remained parked in the area until they left. "You know," said the ranger, "we keep one man on the back-country trails. That's the job we all like."
"It's quiet back there and you see nice country, but mostly when you do meet people they are happy—no problems. If we had our way we'd all be out in the woods, but," Hardin said with sort of a back-to-reality grimace, "it wouldn't make any sense for all the rangers to be in the back country and all the visitors down here."