"Do you hear it?"
"Hear what? I don't hear anything."
There isn't a lot for modern-day kids to do up here if they're not into agriculture or animal husbandry. I understand that. Even if they're old enough for a driver's license, Placerville doesn't have a lot going for a teenager. Dirt bikes provide recreation and a good way to blow off some steam for youngsters. While I've been relieved that said kids didn't live right next door, when I'd hear dirt bikes roaring around someone's property once in awhile for the past nineteen years, I figured that kid wasn't out bashing mailboxes or getting into trouble some other way. We knew they were kids because it was quiet during school hours on weekdays, a little more noisy on some weekends.
That said, the last couple of months have been almost intolerable. Someone a hill or two over set up a dirt bike track for the "public" and the noise level increased daily as more riders joined the pack. The first bikes fire up before I go down to the barn and the roaring is constant until sunset. Those have to be some of the most calloused butts in Fair Play. No breaks for lunch, no breaks at all. No such thing as sitting on the deck or porch here to enjoy the quiet during the day on any day of the week.
I really believe in "do your own thing," until your thing affects me adversely. Last week I called the County Supervisor's Office and County Code Enforcement to register a complaint regarding the noise. Mine was not the only one received and I was told a case file had been opened and a letter had been sent.
Squeaky wheels are evidently louder than dirt bikes, because yesterday, and a Saturday at that, not one engine started all day long. Ahh, the peace and quiet was wonderful. It may not last long, but it sure was nice while it lasted.