Tree-Hugger-in-training

Back in Maryland, we experience a wonderful, man-made euphemism called a 'transfer station' when we want to haul our large, bulky, or excessive trash.

Simply load the old appliances, yard waste, scrap cardboard (from the new TV, stereo, chair, toy or whatever) and drive it to a non-descript building that looks more like the outside of a museum than a trash facility and drop it over a wall. you never really know where it goes from there. Ahhh, it's a sanitized, insular, and convenient experience, courtesy of your local tax dollars....

Out here in the wild west, if you produce more than the trash that fills up a single, city-approved, container that is picked up ONCE a week, than you have a choice: let it sit in a pile in your garage and parse it out little by little, or drive your car to the local landfill. (this gang of 6 with a dog produces that much trash in 2 days)... the local waste facility is definitely NOT a transfer station; it's an actual 'mountain of refuse' not 15 minutes from our house that's been building for years and years.

there is absolutely NO PRETENSE about what you are doing. dumping tons of trash along with the rest of this 'growing state' into what looks like hundreds of acres of native american land (yes, this is one of the ways they raise revenue for the tribes - another long story).

You simply drive your vehicle onto the MOUNTAIN of trash, pull up within a few hundred yards of the loaders that are sifting and piling the loads into neat flat levels and DUMP IT OUT. no fancy container, no steel bins, no neat signs and employees. JUST YOU, THE BULLDOZER, YOUR trash, and the SMELL! talk about olfactory assault - i never have to wonder about what household waste from 2 million people smells like after sitting in the 110* heat for a few days.

my sister-in-law would be proud of me now; i'm pressing that we recycle everything that we possibly can. - D

the photo on the right doesn't do it justice - it looks worse..