“Sometimes, Scott McInney forgot how beautiful his home was. Other times—times like these—he knew exactly how beautiful it was. He took special care to notice the dramatic rock formations, the light blue sky, and the clusters of ducks watching him curiously. This land was a paradise, and if he just appreciated it long enough, he would stop thinking about Ramona. Scott’s muscular body was crouched like a warrior on the makeshift dock his crew had made last week. Under the dock, the river itself r...ushed and churned. As always, the rest of his crew was by his side: new guy Miguel, ex-surfer dude Terry, and retired Navy vet Quinn. “Hey, bro,” Terry said to no one in particular. “Hand me a pocketknife, ’kay? This branch is too long.” All four men worked tirelessly over piles of donated Christmas trees, some plastic pipe, and coils of twine. As the only BLM crew in the Farber City area, their territory included most of the desert terrain outside the city, two small lakes in the mountains, and a three-and-a-half-mile stretch of the Colorado River.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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