That was a close call yesterday. I don't believe I'll be going back to that particular park anytime soon!
Reflecting back on it -- I can barely think of anything else -- I can barely believe it happened. It all happened so fast, and it could be my innocence was my saving grace. The timing was such that it could've gone either way, since when I was pulling out I had no idea about the SUVs. Another minute and I would've been trapped for sure.
Had I been trapped I wouldn't've known what to do. It could've been I wouldn't've had any good options. My back would've been up against two inexorable forces, the river and the industrialists themselves. At that point they would've had free reign over me and could've done anything they wanted. And should that've happened, I would've had to've simply given up.
Of course I would've resisted as long as I could've, which likely wouldn't've been long, seeing there would've been a lot more of them than of me. But, like I said, I would've done what I could've. Then as I would've been going down for the last time, I would've rued the day, knowing I shouldn't've even been there. That would've been indisputable.
But there I was -- scoping out the scene of Voice 1, Voice 2, and Thompson's conversation captured on Tape 3. And in the course of that action, I got the very weird word from the guy coming down the path that there was a big hole on the path about 25 yards in. That's so weird. It's an image that I haven't been able to shake.
I'd love to know how big the hole is. Because in my imagination I've got it about the size of a crater. I'm thinking of a big sinkhole that may've opened up from the force of the river and the bend. But then how would it even be a path anymore? What are we dealing with? Men risking their lives to circumnavigate a crater to find the path again? Would it have slippery slopes, meaning once you're in you're in? I clearly saw the guy coming out, giving me the warning that it's there. Somehow he avoided it.
The thing that's going to happen is nothing. I'm never going to know what that darned hole looks like even if it takes me a million years. Unless I can see it on Google Earth. Because I'm not going back there. It's infested my thoughts. I was thinking about it last night of what a life changer that would be for me. In the worst way. To slip down the slope of that terrible hole would be the pits for me. And I actually do have a lot more personal control and personal restraint for that kind of behavior. Even revulsion. I won't touch the walls of a bathroom. So the heck with it!
There's actual people there who stand opposed to me and everything the Residential Industrial Movement stands for. The major industrial powers couldn't be held back when they didn't carry this grievance, so of course there'd be no restraining them now. Let 'em keep their darned hole! I have work to do.