Summertime Memories: A Trip Down Memory Lane, A Long Trip...

This blog has not been proofread so please ignore any spelling and grammar errors or anything that just doesn't make sense, aside from my actions in the story of course. Enjoy!

Summertime Memories: A Trip Down Memory Lane, A Long Trip...

I chuckle as I reflect on this summertime memory now 16 years old. The laughable nature of how it came to be may partly be attributed to the absurdity surrounding it. It was a hot summer weeknight back in 1994. I was sixteen years old, but still without a car. I was working at Food Lion to save for one, but had yet to acquire enough money or a car that I liked enough to buy. It was a very pleasant summer afternoon when my mom came home from work and said we were invited by her boyfriend, Roland, to come have dinner at his house. While he was a fairly new beau, this was not my first trip to his house. He lived out in Trenton, GA, a good 30-40 minutes from East Ridge. The typical routine was that we'd go out there after my mom got off work, arriving at 6 or so and then Roland's sister would go to buy the groceries to make for dinner. We would not sit down to dinner until damn near ten o'clock! The food was quite good when we did however. I don't know if it was fine cooking or starvation that made it such. This night was no different. We arrived and dinner was nowhere near being ready. I decided I would pass some time by doing one of my favorite things, taking a walk.

I set out from Roland's house down the very busy two-lane road. Being that this place was in the country and in a setting so different than the suburban enclave of East Ridge, I was anxious to see what lay on my walk ahead. In a most fitting tribute to the ways of the country, I passed a Baptist church that ran along a creek. The creek was bone dry, but I did notice where some pavers had been laid so that new believers could be dunked.

The country road would have on it something I often encountered in suburbia, irresponsible pet owners. As I walked down the road I heard that all too familiar angry bark and found myself staring down two dogs unhappy that I was walking down the street. I walked past them, never turning my back on them and went on my way. This encounter made me not want to take this way back to Roland's house. Using my suburban navigation logic, I knew that if I took my next left, I would loop back to his house in no time. Boy was I wrong.

There was a momentary panic as I looked ahead and noticed the road I was traveling snaking it's way up the mountain before me. The panic abated when I rounded the bend and saw a road, bearing to the left that would surely have me back at Roland's in no time. I took this road and still remember the large immaculate home that sat the intersection. I continued down the road and saw some more nice homes and a "road" in the distance that I thought would be the way I would take back to Roland's. As I neared this "road" I realized it was a damned driveway! So rural were some of these homes that they had driveways that could be mistaken for roads, at least by a newcomer. I guess this was country living.

I had been walking quite a while now and I was heading North, the direction back to Roland's and kept thinking that it would be quicker to continue north and just over the next rise would be a road that would double back to his neighborhood. I would pass stretches with a few houses, then some stretches without. I was never so far removed that I was in the middle of nowhere, but it sure felt like it at times.

I soon found myself walking up on a place I had been before. Near Trenton is the field where those hang gliding off Lookout Mountain land. Not really being familiar with my location, I decided I would inquire about some directions. The folks were friendly and enjoying some wine. I told them I needed to get to Trenton and they directed me to go back the way I came. My stubborn mind reasoned they didn't understand what I was asking and that their judgement was impaired by the contents of their glasses. I continued North.

It was quite hot that day and for whatever reason, I was wearing a knit shirt. As I passed a small home, I heard barking again, but this time from a little yippy dog. It was a humorous reminder as to why I was in the situation I was. I just ignored the high strung canine and continued on my way.

Something neat I remember seeing beside the road was an old metal bridge that had long fell out of use. It spanned across a gully that had no water in it. Around it was no road or train track and I still wonder why it was sitting where it was and the purpose it once served. The bridge had no bottom that would allow man or vehicle to cross, but I am sure it did at one time.

It wasn't too long after passing this metallic wonder that I thought my journey would soon end. The road I was traveling was intersecting with another. I saw several cars passing the intersection and was relieved that I had reached the main road that would put me back at Roland's in no time. Wrong again.

It seems the two or three cars that I saw as I approached the road were the only two that would travel it for the next hour or so. Before me lay another long stretch of lonely road. I finally made it to the main highway, but at this point, I knew my navigation logic had failed me and I was very far away from where I had thought I would be. I still thought however that a quicker way back to Roland's lay in my continuing northward and not turning around and going back the way I came. At this point I had been walking for what seemed like hours, but I think it had only been an hour and a half or so.

As I started my trek down the highway, I was starting to think of other ways to get back to Roland's. In a kind of surreal moment, I passed a field of cows. All was silent around me and I remember a cow staring at me as I passed. I had never been gazed upon by a farm animal before. If the beast could have spoke, I have no doubt it would have said, "You look lost pal".

I remember wishing a policeman might drive by so I could flag him down for directions and perhaps a ride. It wasn't long after that I looked up to see a police car approaching, but it was too late as he whizzed by before I could try to get his attention. However, I soon saw another way of which my troubles could be eased. Just ahead was a store with a payphone and I had some change in my pocket! I would just call Roland's house and have somebody come pick me up. I didn't know his number, but the pay phone had phone book dangling from it. I picked up the phone book when it occurred to me I was still out of luck; I didn't know Roland's last name.

I decided if I was going to be hot and lost; I would at least have a cool drink in my hand. I went in the store and bought a NuGrape and soon set out on my travels again. I knew that when I made it back to Trenton, if I could find the Bi-Lo there, I could find my way back to Roland's.

As I trekked down the highway, I saw the police car whiz past again. I waved my arms but saw him continue over the hill. However, it was not long thereafter he came back and stopped. I approached his car and explained my plight. I told him I was trying to get the Trenton Bi-Lo and that I'd gone out walking and got lost. He told me it was another six or seven miles to the Bi-Lo. He then asked me my mom's boyfriend's name and I told him I knew only his first name and threw that out there. It wasn't good enough. He told me how far I had to go and drove off, IN THE DIRECTION I WAS ALL READY WALKING! What a jackass. I learned later that Roland had a criminal record, but surely the cop didn't know that just by a first name and hell, even if I was John Dillinger's acquaintance, HE WAS DRIVING IN THE DIRECTION I WAS WALKING! I was obviously lost and a minor to boot.

I continued down the road and the song "A Horse With No Name" kept playing itself in my head. The NuGrape was further dehydrating me with every sip and my mind was beginning to take on a more treacherous level of reasoning. It refused to accept the reasoning; "You can go back the way you came.... Those dogs let you past once, and will likely do so again...." and kept saying, "Forward is faster". I had always heard of the dangers hitchhiking, but began reasoning ways that I might get a ride to end this long walk to nowhere.

I reasoned that if I could hitch a ride with somebody driving a pickup truck, I could ride in the back. That way if the driver was a psycho killer, I could easily escape. In retrospect, I would have had to jump from a fast moving vehicle to an asphalt landing. The teenage mind, while it thinks it functions at such a high level is in fact still 90% bone. Hence the boneheaded idea I had about catching a ride in the back of a truck for "safety".

Well, idiotic reasoning aside, I started putting my thumb, up when a truck would pass, as I walked. A few trucks rolled by, but none with a charitable driver. It wasn't long, before I chanced on any passing vehicle, only to have one stop... A Volkswagen Rabbit pulled up along the road. Ugh. I approached and the guy driving was about my age and said, "Man, I saw you walking waaay back there." I laughed and said yeah. I asked for a lift to the Bi-Lo and he said okay. What a foolish thing I did that day, but I was naive trusting teenager and lived to tell about it. The guy told he would be attending Brainerd High School in the Fall. I forget why he was in Trenton, GA. He dropped me off at Bi-Lo and I began walking back to Roland's. It was still a bit of a trek ahead of me, but at least I knew where I was going now.

I was not far from Roland's when the same guy passed again and gave me a ride the rest of the way. As we approached Roland's, I told him to drop me a ways down the road as I did not want my mom to know I hitchhiked. He obliged me, but everybody was standing out in the yard and watched me get out of the car. It was another classic teenage blunder.

I had been gone three hours and everybody was somewhat concerned. My mom and another lady there had even went out looking for me, but in the other direction. Looking back, they didn't search very hard, as I never left the main road. We all had a good laugh at what had happened. A week or two later, we drove the route I took and found I had walked around 10 miles and traveled about 13. What an adventure it had been!

When I think back to that day, I remember a much simpler time in life, but not necessarily one I want to go back to. Time seemed infinite as I walked that day. My only concern or worry was eventually making it back to Roland's. Even as I trekked that highway, I found humor in the situation and was enjoying myself. I had no worries about getting to bed at a certain time, things I had to get done that night, being rested for the following day or any other obligations. I was worry free, as I knew I would eventually get back to where I needed to be. Today, I don't believe I could be so carefree in such a situation. Sure, I still look for adventure in my life, enjoy road trips to no place in particular and seek humor in most any situation, but with age comes wisdom and knowledge that carry with them a level of responsibility and accountability that leaves its mark on the experience. This is not a bad thing; it is just part of the ultimate adventure that is life.