Columnist Susan Snyder: Dedicated to a clean Red Rock

Sunday, Feb. 27, 2000 | 9:57 a.m.

Susan Snyder's column appears Sundays and Tuesdays. Reach her at snyder@vegas.com or 259-4082.

Gray morning clouds heavy with mist hung low and hid Red Rock Canyon Conservation Area's craggy peaks.

Chinks in the cover gave way to streams of sunshine, dappling the foothills in reds and tans. A bobcat scooted across State Road 159, dodging motorists in a hurry to be someplace else.

Welcome to Joyce Colling's "office."

With garden gloves, a garbage bag and a grabber stick to curtail the bending, Colling strolled along the highway last Tuesday collecting whatever those passing through have left behind. She goes at least once a week.

"It's just so gorgeous out here that I can't stand the trash," said the 67-year-old retired executive secretary.

Colling is one of the Friends of Red Rock -- about 180 volunteers who do all kinds of stuff from answering questions at the conservation area's visitors' center to helping park staff with maintenance, graffiti removal and environmental education.

Colling is one of the few who does trash pickup, a Red Rock ranger said. And she has always done it on her own without being asked.

Colling says she enjoys the solitary labor with its spectacular backdrop.

"I kind of like it better without other people," she said, plucking a plastic bottle cap from the brush.

But it's not like she ever really gets away from people. They are, after all, the reason there's work.

"There's just all sorts of trash out here," she said. "I found the hood of a car once."

Most of what she finds are leftovers from other people's good times. One of the worst spots is around the Red Rock overlook parking area.

"The state doesn't allow them to close it at night, so the kids come in. Their greatest delight in life is tossing their beer bottles down the side so they smash on the rocks," she said.

If beer-bottle smashing is their first choice, rollicking with each other is a close second.

"I find condoms all the time. They leave the boxes, wrappers and everything," Colling said with a mischievous grin.

It's a grin without joy. Even dirty diapers are among the intimate remnants left for strangers to fetch.

"We never had those at first. It's getting worse," Colling said, stooping to carefully pick up amber shards of beer bottle. "I'll say it's the locals doing it, and then I will find a camera box."

Signs posted along the highway show the names of organizations whose members typically clean those sections a few times a year. Volunteers like Colling fill the gaps.

Some sections haven't been adopted. Colling figures it could make a good project for some of the area's larger companies.

"Even once or twice a year would help," she said.

Colling slung the bulging garbage bag over her shoulder Santa-style, picked up the plastic foam planks she had stacked earlier and walked a couple of hundred yards back to a trash can where she piled the refuse for the maintenance crew.

Two other women used to accompany Colling on her weekly calling. One is in her 70s and can't do it anymore. The other is a snowbird who visits only part of the year.

"There's just me left. But I'm 67," she said. "I keep wondering, who's going to do it later on?"

Self-starters needed. Flexible hours. Great benefits. Office with a view.

Bring a garbage bag.