The Longest Mile

After learning to ride on a hand me down bike from my sister, I was eager for a better bike and on Christmas both my sister and I were given banana seated bikes.  We were in heaven and immediately set out to find out all the bikes could do for us.  We found we could ride really fast and stop very fast as well.  We could even ride with no hands which was quite a feat considering the surfaces we rode on were nothing more than shell dirt roads full of pot holes.  The bikes could even jump the small ditches near our house, but the best thing the bikes could do for us was give us the freedom to go to the corner store.

Where we lived was acres and acres of previously farmed rice fields.  We were at the end of a long dirt road that branched off of a county road.  There were very few houses along our road and our family's 10 acre plot of land with its three houses was the largest community.  About a mile away from our house was a corner store that sold cold drinks, cigarettes and candy.  When we got our allowances we always pestered my mother to take us to that store.  When we got our bikes she told us that we could take ourselves there but under one condition.  We always had to have at least one other person with us.  We were never allowed to go alone.  This suited us just fine because although the trip might have only been a mile, it was a long mile.

The first part of the trip was easy because it was through the most populated part of our road.  We would start out from our house and for the equivalent of about two or three acre lengths we would be near the yards of other houses.  Then came an empty field area that stretched for another few acres.  Last of all came the first house on the lane from the county road.  This house had a couple of dogs who loved nothing more than to chase us as we road by.  All the way to the approach of that house we had to steel ourselves for the gauntlet of their barking attack.  If we road past quickly enough we could outrun them, but it was always nerve racking.  Once we were past them though there were several more acres, each more wild and overgrown as we came closer to the county road.  Not only were the fields more weed strewn, but the ditches on either side of the road began to gradually steepen leaving the road seeming a white oasis in their darkened shadows.  This lead steadily to the county road.  We would always try to stay near the center of the road through this point.

Along the near side of the county road was a very deep drainage ditch.  It had steep walls and was about twelve feet deep at its lowest point.  Because the fields were no longer used to grow rice, the ditch was usually allowed to become quite overgrown along its steep walls.  You might think that would make it look a little less frightening, but in reality it gave it a wild unkempt look that multiplied its fear factor exponentially.  At the crossing point for our road onto the county road there were huge culverts whose diameters spanned the width and height of the ditch.  These areas were always clear of brush affording a look down, way down, to the water that was always at the bottom of the ditch, even in the driest weather.

The ditch water was teeming with a small type of tropical fish related to sword fish.  The rice farmers had used these fish in their fields to cut down on mosquitoes and every time a field flooded or when they drained the fields of water these fish would be flushed into the large drainage ditch.  Since the water supply was constant the areas immediately adjacent to the ditch was full of wildlife.  It is a testament to the fearsomeness of these ditches that I and my cousins did not choose to go near them.  There might be turtles and interesting fish and crawdads and some of the largest dewberry's growing on the ditch banks, but we knew there were also snapping turtles, sucking mud and water moccasins.

Water moccasin doing its thing

Water moccasins were the most frightening creature in our little part of the world.  We seldom ever saw one, but we suspected almost every snake of being one.  Cottonmouths, as we also called them were a venomous snake almost always dark black in color and up to about three feet long.  They were not the only venomous snake around and we shared our acreage with copperheads and rattlesnakes as well.  We saw copperheads all the time, but they were always a very small snake.  We never saw nor heard a rattlesnake in any of our ventures.  Water moccasins were big, they were relatively abundant and since several other even more prevalent water snakes looked a lot like them we were always afraid of running into one.  They were indeed something for us to be very cautious about, but we gave them near mythical abilities in our childhood lore.  These were the smart snakes.  Water moccasins would chase you.  They would hide in wait for you if they heard you coming.  If they bit you they would never let go.   This last one we borrowed from the folklore about snapping turtles, which we also were afraid of, but not as much as the dreaded Cottonmouth.

It is no wonder that we stayed to the center of our road the closer we got to the county road.  Not only were the ditches approaching the 'big ditch' deeper and wilder as we progressed but the weeds would tower twelve or more feet in the adjacent fields.  The distance from the last house on our road was a quarter of a mile of  nothing but overgrown fields, the ditches and a silence broken only by the insects and our voices.

At the end of our road, before we traversed onto the county road we always paused and looked to see if there were any cars coming.  Cars traveled fast on this road but it was usually empty.  We were not as worried about the cars as much as we didn't want to be choked by the thick cloud of dust they would kick up on the shell dirt pavement of the road.  The weeds along the edges of the road always looked like they had been whitewashed from the billowing dust.  This did nothing to make the trip less intimidating.

Once we had checked to make sure the coast was clear we road out onto the road to the far side, as far from the big ditch as possible.  It was now serious riding time and we did not wait for the slowpokes.  We road as fast as we could and would always arrive breathless at the county roads juncture with the two lane highway.

Here was a point we had to be cautious for fear of traffic because this road was more traveled and cars would whiz past.  But it was a short crossing and there was always ample time between cars.  Once we crossed this last obstacle were were in the large parking lot of the corner store.  It was a simple affair not any bigger than a trailer house, but it was always a welcome relief to get there.  They had an outdoor drink holder filled with ice and cold bottled drinks.  You had to sink your arm into the ice to grab your drink which would always chill you to the bone no matter how hot the weather.  I always chose a Big Red because I was head over heels crazy about cherries and since it was red I could pretend it had something to do with cherries.

Aside from the cold drink we always got candy as well.  The candy rack was always filled with an amazing assortment.  Unfortunately we were never as flush with cash as we wanted to be.  Usually we had to settle for one candy bar if we got a drink or two if we got just candy.  I always took a long time making my selection.  Since the price per candy bar was the same I almost always chose the largest candy bar which was invariably the Three Muskateers bar.  If I was really flush with funds I would choose Hot Tamales as well.

One we made our selections it was time for the trip back home.  This was always complicated because of our candy and soft drink loot.  On the way back home we were more daring probably because we were fueled with sugar.  We would sometimes ride near the big ditch and even try to look over the weeds into the water to see what interesting creatures we could spy.  If a car came through when we were near the big ditch side we always stopped to let the car pass by for fear its nearness would somehow push us over the edge.

Thus our trips went usually at least two or three times a month during the summers.  Each time we went would be nearly an exact copy of the last time with the exception of one incident.

It started off the same but for some reason instead of just two or three of us, me, my sister, my oldest cousin, my two younger cousins and also a boy from down our road, Vince made the trip.  This larger group took up much more space down the center of the road at first, but as we approached our roads intersection at the county road we were strung out.  My two littlest cousins were the furthest back and my sister made us all wait for them before we ventured onto the county road.  We all had a chance to look down past the culvert and into the water pooled below.  Vince was closest to the edge and I was right next to him with Bobby my oldest cousin right next to me.  My sister was drunk with power being the oldest and was trying to boss us around while we waited.  "Don't get too close to the edge," she barked out, using her superior to everyone voice, "You don't want to fall in."  This made Vince, a red headed trouble maker, move ever closer to the edge.  "I'm not afraid," he bragged.  He was, but he also was not about to be bossed around by my sister.

Suddenly we became aware of an approaching car on the county road.  It wasn't just traveling that road, but also was going to turn onto our road.  This happened to coincide with the arrival of my two youngest cousins.  This all put my sister into a whirlwind of authority driven panic.  "Get to the side of the road!" she shouted and nudged my bike with her own.  As she moved into me, my bike nudged into Vince which had a catastrophic effect.  I watched as he slowly went over the edge of the road and into the ditch below.  I managed to keep myself from going over and saw Vince sprawled out on the bank below us with him on one side of the water and his bike on the other side.

Before any of us could even react, Vince sprung up from the muddy bank, grabbed his bike and somehow vaulted his way up the side of the ditch and back down the road from which we came.  He was on his bike and pedaling like mad.  I took off after him but even though I was bigger I couldn't keep up with him.  He disappeared into the cloud of dust the recently passed car was leaving in its wake.  I could hear the calls of Bobby and my sister behind me but I kept pedaling even though I couldn't catch up with Vince.

When we got to his yard his bike was in the front yard but Vince was already in his house.  We ran up to his back door and knocked, calling for Vince.  His mother came to the door and told us that Vince didn't want to come out right now and we should wait for him until later.  We waited around his yard for a while and then finally went back to our yards.  About an hour later Vince came back outside.  We rushed over to him.  "Are you alright?" I asked him, "I thought you were a gonner!"  He said, "I nearly was done for that's for sure," he paused to sit down and we crowded around him.  He continued, "When I fell into that ditch I landed just an inch from a water moccasin.  It reared back to bite me and I ran it over with my bike."

"You really road away fast," Bobby mentioned, "Were you scared?"  Vince stood up.  "No way was I scared," he said, "I road away fast because I thought I had been bitten and I wanted to get home before the venom had a chance to kill me."

Now there were several things about Vince's story that didn't settle with me.  First of all, Vince was a bigger fabricator of stories than even I was, which was quite a hard thing considering how loosely I valued the absolute truth.  Second, my vantage point gave me a perfect view of his position and if the snake had been an inch from Vince there was no way he could have run it over with his bike, which was on the opposite side of the ditch.  Third, being the daughter of my snake fearing mother, I knew the last thing you wanted to do was move about very quickly if you think you had been snake bitten.

Even with my suspicions I held my tongue.  I figured as long as the topic didn't turn to how he had fallen in the ditch then I wasn't going to point out the obvious fabrication.  Even though my bike had bumped his by accident, Vince had a mean streak and would exact revenge on me if he thought I had played a part in the fall.  Luckily he just basked in the 'nearly snake bitten' role he had created.

Later on after Vince had gone home, Bobby asked me, "Do you think a water moccasin nearly got Vince?"  "No way," I said, "He is just making that up."  "Yeah," Bobby said, "I didn't see any snake."  We laughed.  "Do you want to go to the store?" I asked.  "Sure!" he said.  And we headed back down the longest mile again.