The first mile was easy and uneventful, but as the trail narrowed, we were ambushed (apparently). Shots rang out and soon the valley was a filled with battle cries and the sounds of gunfire. The river gurgled past uncaringly, ready to receive the gallons of blood that would shortly be spilled (surely). Lisa and I barely escaped. If it wasn’t for the bravery of the stick-wielding Boy Scouts, we would have surely been struck down by the invisible enemies in the hills threatening our lives.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!” one yelled using an oak limb as a gun and firing it into the hills.
“Cha-ching, POW! Cha-ching, POW!” another shouted with a pine-wood shotgun.
We would be forever indebted to these noble and brave non-soldiers.
Soon we were out of the valley. The medic site was ahead, but it too was under attack. Brave, grade-school-aged soldiers were making a last stand on a stationary truck that was nearly rusted into the ground. Again, shots rang out, battle cries, yadda-yadda-yadda. One, strangely, if not heroically, jumped in front of the imaginarily-moving vehicle.
“Suicide! ARGHGHGH!” he yelled convulsing in front of the truck. The battle had beaten him. The horrors can be intolerable. Maybe Hawkeye could still save him.
“Look what I discovered!” his sister yelled. She had “discovered” another vehicle rusting into the ground 8 feet from the other. Suck on that, Columbus. The battle moved to the other vehicle, and it was time for Lisa and I to retreat.
If you plan to hike the M.A.S.H. trail at Malibu Creek State Park, best to pick a day when it’s not overrun by a Boy Scout jamboree. Maybe a weekday perhaps. Also, the fees are terrible, $12 for a day pass. Robbery.