Sometimes where I live in East San Diego County is called the Back Country. I think there is even a little rag publication called Back Country news or gazettee--some such thing.
We've been having news worthy rain the past day. Rain is not a common occurrence here or anywhere in SoCal. The place is just not built for it by man nor nature.
There I was on the winding two lane road between Ballistic Mountain and Alpine. Actually, I was headed home. It was raining hard enough, temperature in the 30's (! that's cause for alarm in and of itself!!), when I see what appeared to be clods of weeds and mud on the right side of the road.
It was dark and visibility was poor. As I passed I wondered if that was debris caused by someone running their car over the side. It goes down a ways on that side. So, I drove up the road until I found a wide enough place to turn around.
Now the clifflike bluffs are on my right. I see some more cloddy looking masses in my lane as I headed back to the potential accident site, but couldn't make out clearly what they were.
I took the path that avoided most of them, doing about 40. This path meant that I'd straddle one prominent one. I'd estimated that I had enough clearance, and I did until it reached somewhere toward the rear of the car. At that point I heard and felt a pronounced thump.
My brakes still worked and I didn't hear sounds of car pieces dragging the road or falling off so I continued to see if the other debris was from an unfortunate motorist. There was no sign of people that I could see and no tire marks so I once again turned around.
When I reached the place where the thump occurred I was able to find enough shoulder to get off the road. Still raining a cold nasty rain--one of my favorite things when performing outdoor tasks. Really.
The clods turned out to be some heavy boulders which had fallen from the bluffs. A mini landslide I guess. It seemed only right to get them off of the road. A lower car could be in big trouble if the driver didn't see what was there. My car may have suffered, although a flashlight inspection of the underside, in the cold cold rain, revealed no damage.
In predictable California fashion, as soon as I was underway again, a rude idiot in a pickup truck races up to tailgate me, on a slippery road, with debris, in a very dark area, in the rain. This is why I carry no firearm. I probably would have shot a hole in his radiator. Or her radiator, whatever the case. It is usually a guy in such cases. The women jerks who drive like that are normally in different types of vehicles which I won't describe. My generalizations tend to get out of hand if I am not careful.
That is one thing about this state, there are some very nice people, but the basic culture is a bit edgy and rude in a pushy yet not quite mano a mano sort of way. On the road, they tend to be what can best be described as pricks. Still not as stupid and bizarre as Memphis, mind you, but certainly not as polite as Seattle or Boise. Unlike Memphis, the prickishness is purposeful, not the by-product of incurable ignorance.
So, though it ended with thoughts of doing violence to a back country moron, I did my good deed. It would have been two good deeds had someone been off the side down the hill. And, considering the thump and the annoyance of some tailgating redneck moron, the deeds did not go unpunished.
On the up side I got to enjoy performing a task in the dark, rainy, cold night and that was kind of fun.