At Least The Eagle Still Soars
Morning broke early, and my Diamondback mountain bike was calling me. A ride up the hill to Vista Point overlooking Shasta Dam seemed inviting. Check the tires, the cables, helmet and gloves, and the cameras. Yes, I like to take the cameras. You never know what you are going to see.
It was cool early this morning. We are expecting a hot spell soon up here in The City of Shasta Lake, so I wanted to take advantage of the coolness. The ride started out easy, a gradual slow climb. Then, a six and a half percent grade for a couple of miles, followed by a downhill to Vista Point.
I stopped at Vista Point to drink some water. Then, I began a one and a half mile downhill. In my highest downhill gear, I can usually reach thirty miles per hour. Arriving at the dam, I moseyed across to the next climb. It’s a short gradual climb away from the dam. I had gone several hundred yards when I saw the first Golden Eagle, soaring in the updraft of the hill that I was on. The wind was blowing about twenty miles per hour. Then, there were more eagles – ten, maybe fifteen of them. Two of them locked talons and performed their falling dance for a few hundred feet, spinning wildly.
After taking quite a bit of video footage, I snapped a few stills. I noticed that the Department of Homeland Security had stopped about one hundred feet away from me, and he was taking pictures too. But, he was taking pictures of me. I thought to myself how ironic: Here I was taking a picture of our nations symbol of freedom, the once almost extinct Golden Eagle, while I was being surveilled by a member of our national police. It felt like the Gestapo was watching me! Very strange. I felt a sadness for something that we have lost. It seems that people care more about their safety nowadays than they do their personal freedoms. There was a time that freedom was something we Americans would die for. Now, everyone wants to be safe.
When I was done taking pictures, I rode over to speak with the officer. He was not friendly at all. As soon as I left the area, he started his vehicle and left too. All I was doing is enjoying public land, taking a few photos. It's not like you can't download pictures of Shasta Dam. I wonder what he will do with the photos he took of me. I wonder how many of my emails have been screened, how many phone calls listened to. I think of the file that could be built using the myriad sources of data that is collected daily from us. It didn’t used to be this way in America.
Ah! Who care, right?