I was returning from an overnite climbing trip in the central Cascades of Washington State. I was in a pretty sorry whupped state sliding down a hill towards the trailhead/parking lot that I had left my ever reliable heap'o'rust in when I was met by a forest service employee with a noxious weed survey.
I told her I was never on the trail, hadn't been on that trail since 1978, and if she would crane her neck around she could still see my dust plume/flesh bits coming off that hill. " That's nice, now could I please do the noxious survey [for the trail
I've not been on]?
This is one of those moments where you are in a grocery store questioning the price of something and the checker is being condescending saying "Oh well, we'll give you that price [rolling his/her eyes] if you insist." Wait a minute I'm right,your wrong but do you continue to make a thing about it while everyone behind you assumes you are an idiot or do you just move forward.
So I either could do the noxious weed survey [I'd already recieved the lecture of its importance] or I could tell this person perhaps they could walk a little ways out of the parking lot and see if anything looked familar. or I could pretend to suddenly be struck by Armenian Muttering Tourettes Syndrome and contnue to my truck.
What is it the Forest Service does exactly besides timber sales and hiring annoying employees incapable of listening?

Can't answer, but I'm wondering what a noxious weed survey might sound like:
"How long have you been a noxious weed?"
"Do you see other noxious weeds socially?"
"As a noxious weed, how would you best rate your self-esteem--low, moderate or best noxious weed ever?"

I came across a young FS employee at a trailhead a couple weeks back, surveying folks coming out of the wilderness. She'd been there all day and had interviewed one person. I promised I'd have something to say in four days, but she wasn't there of course when I returned. Too bad, I wanted to rant about the commercial packers for awhile :-)

Larry, Rick,
If you want to get rid of a noxious FS employee, or Ranger for that matter, just start a rant about commercial packers and watch 'em boogey on down the road like the old Roadrunner. They've heard so many rants down through the years about something they can't do squat about that they get green around the gills about the time you have "horse packers" halfway out of your mouth. Horse packers are basically untouchable out here in the Old West due to lots of influence with politicians that they help get re-elected time after time, with the result that they control the right committees in Congress and stonewall any regulations the horse packers don't like. It's a real bummer down in California especially in the National Park system, which should be protected. Lots of frustration among backcountry rangers in particular.

So the senator has died and finds himself in front of St.Peter at the pearly gates. St.Peter informs him that they are a little unsure what his fate should be, being a senator and all, so it's decided the senator could spend one day in heaven and one in hell and vote for his choice.His tour of heaven was everything he'ld expected;serene,celestial,very peaceful. The next day in hell Satan suprised him with a full tour of the golf courses, 5 star restaurants, and non-stop parties.
Following this when St.Peter asked which way the senator was voting he, of course being a senator choose hell.
Upon his return Satan meet him and led him into fire,brimstone,torture, screaming,and general real bad agony. The senator was aghast and asked what happened to the golf courses and everything else. Satan replied" Oh yesterday we were campaigning, today you voted."

Could be worse. In the forest around my house in Northern New Mexico, all they do is say land owners complained, and put up locked gates on all the roads. That way they don't even have to go into the forest service land.