A scowl crept over Chris Mastro's face as he stared at the creosote shrubs huddling amid tattered mattresses, dilapidated sofas and a rusting Jacuzzi tub one recent morning. Not far away, black plastic bags spilled drywall and yard trimmings beneath the outstretched arms of a Joshua tree.
"You look at this and say, 'Why would anyone do this?' "It's so beautiful out here," said Mastro, a Los Angeles County environmental health inspector, as he gestured toward a blanket of hubcaps and wheels that were stifling the bloom of protruding wildflowers.
The question has plagued Mastro for the 10 years that he has been directing the clearance of illegal dump sites across about 800 square miles of the Antelope Valley.
It is also an enduring concern of officials in cities and counties across California as they seek ways to combat this age-old, growing problem. Household appliances, tires, furniture, vehicles, electronic goods, hazardous waste and construction materials are among the most common illegally dumped items, waste management officials say.
It is Mastro's job to search for dump sites and investigate complaints that come in on a public tip line. He estimates there are at least two-dozen problem sites in the Antelope Valley -- some of them with up to 300 tons of debris. But there are thousands of smaller dumps -- many the size of a pickup truck load.
The expanse and remoteness of the Antelope Valley, which encompasses part of the sprawling Mojave Desert, make it an attractive location for dumping without being seen.
Mastro typically heads out at 6 a.m. in a county-issued four-wheel drive Ford Ranger pickup. The dress code is blue jeans and steel-toe boots. A sun hat, long wooden staff and bottled water complete his mandatory field props. He can clock up to 300 miles a day, his duties stretching past sundown.
"There is trash service available to anyone who wants it," Mastro said during a recent trip as he used his staff to poke and flip scattered debris, looking for clues such as documents and envelopes with legible names and addresses that might lead him to the culprits.
He picked up three 5-gallon plastic canisters -- one of them still half-filled with oil -- and moved them to one side. Though it's not his job to handle trash, he planned to return later and take the canisters to a gas station where they would be accepted at no charge.
"It's just so frustrating" to leave them, said Mastro, adding that he takes the affront of illegal dumping "very personally."
