Apparently it’s a holiday tradition for the populace of L.A. and Phoenix to gather on the Lower Colorado, in this case, Buckskin Mountain State Park, to celebrate the four day Thanksgiving weekend. They come with their ski-dos, ski boats, and unmuffled supercharged speed boats. They race up and down the river all day long their deafening roar drowning out the peace and quiet of the campground. Ducks, Coots, and various water fowl flee in fright. Motor cycles, quads, ATV’s and Jeeps add to the commotion, the dust visible miles away. From the California side of the river, gun fire from target practice goes on during the day, replaced at night with fireworks and amped up bar music. All this is fueled by alcohol consumption that individually exceeds the average annual rainfall for the entire county. Sirens on the highway attest to busy police and ambulance services. No law enforcement patrols the river; noise and speed are entirely unregulated. Today the revelers are packing up their toys and going home. Yes, I am thankful that Thanksgiving is over.