I can’t remember at exactly what age, but I recall a school field trip that took us to the then-active city dump, known affectionately as Mt. Trashmore. It’s pretty fuzzy now except one specific image - looking up the hill (or mountain, as it felt like a kid) at a skid-loader going to work. It would absolutely pulverize a pile of trash, just to move it three or four feet to the left, creating a second, slightly smaller pile of trash. It repeated this motion over and over. It paid no mind to the uneven terrain below it, or the gulls above it. Like seagulls, but the sea was one made of garbage. Hovering just above the machinery, waiting to swoop down for a particular item that caught their fancy. I can’t put my finger on the reason why, but I was mesmerized.
Even in that memory, thinking back fondly, the place looked like what it was - a pile of trash.
Flash forward to 2024. What stands there today is nearly unimaginable in comparison to that (oddly) lasting memory.
Mt. Trashmore: the recreational attraction, not Mt. Trashmore: the dump. What the city and the Solid Waste Agency have combined to do with the place is extraordinary. From the visitors center to the trails to the lookout area up top, it’s all something to really be proud of. Hell, the dump was active for over half my life, which means I helped build the place - we all did - and we should all be proud of it what it’s become.
A mountain biker takes in the view from the scenic overlook at the top of Mt. Trashmore.
