I’ve spent quite a bit of time in the great outdoors. I never fought fire in a national park, but I’ve hiked through plenty of them. You can camp in some places, but depending on the park, there may be several things you can’t do. For example, you may not be able to take your dog, even if he or she is on a leash. I talked to an armchair paleontologist who said that he wanted to dig for fossils on a national monument. He got mad and went back to the city when I told him that taking fossils from a national park was a surefire ticket to a trial and at the very least, a huge fine and a suspended vacay in the pen.
Some parks, such as Natural Bridges, Arches, Hovenweep, Canyonlands, and Capitol Reef, have a biological crust that is extremely fragile. Just stepping off the trail is enough to land you in serious hot water in some places. So as your would-be guide, my advice is to pack out your trash, stay on the trail, drink plenty of water, watch where you sit, and don’t start any fires outside of approved areas. Oh, and please don’t lick the toads. This is not my advice–this is an official request from the National Park Service.
Please don’t lick the toads. The fact that grown adults need to be told not to lick wildlife may be the most damning indictment when it comes to the failure of the American Experiment. But apparently, the warning is necessary. This is from the NPS FB page:
Well that’s toad-ally terrifying….
Hey there! Here is the “ribbiting” late night content no one asked for. Yet here we are. The Sonoran desert toad (Bufo alvarius), also known as the Colorado river toad, is one of the largest toads found in North America, measuring nearly 7 inches (18 cm).
What sound does it make? Its call has been described as a “weak, low-pitched toot, lasting less than a second.” Was that the toad or did something startle you?
These toads have prominent parotoid glands that secrete a potent toxin. It can make you sick if you handle the frog or get the poison in your mouth. As we say with most things you come across in a national park, whether it be a banana slug, unfamiliar mushroom, or a large toad with glowing eyes in the dead of night, please refrain from licking. Thank you. Toot!
(Emphasis mine.)
According to Business Insider, the toxin, which has the chemical name 5-MeO-DMT, can be dried into crystals, which are then smoked to produce a psychedelic experience. Because of that, it is classified as an illegal Schedule 1 drug. While some claim to have experienced some medicinal benefits from 5-MeO-DMT, the trip and any medical effects are probably not achieved simply by grabbing a toad and licking it. That can just make you sick. And even in its “refined form,” using it can result in such things as increased heart rate, high blood pressure, seizures, and dizziness, just to name a few.
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Licking aside, the craze could put the toad at risk. The toad could be threatened by poaching or “illegal harvesting.” And did you catch the part about the banana slugs? I could see eating the wrong mushroom, either looking for a high or trying to harvest something to go with that steak you are planning to grill, but who is running around national parks licking banana slugs? What possess someone to lick a banana slug? Why do we need an advisory on this?
I’m going to say this in as calm, rational, and thoughtful a manner as I can:
WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?
No wonder everyone thinks the world is about to collapse. We not only have to tell people to refrain from licking toads, but we also need them to curb the desire to lick banana slugs. I can’t get the image out of my head of some dirty-foot, latter-day hippie, smelling of B.O., patchouli oil, and day-old weed smoke, wandering around the forest, randomly licking toads and slugs until they fall on their butts and say: “Oh wow, man, the colors.” On average, how many do you have to lick until… never mind. I don’t need to know. Do these people have absolutely nothing better to do with their time?
This is your brain on TikTok.
It is times like these that I hearken back to a bumper sticker I saw on a car in the middle of rush hour years ago that sums it up perfectly: “Jerry’s dead. Phish sucks. Get a job.”
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