Hi there! I’m B. and I write over at iCantbelieveable; but I’m thrilled and honored that Tricia is letting me hold
her readers hostage as I occupy her space today! Thank you for reading! Here’s
my tale of an amazing summer vacation:
It was 1995, the year that brought along some of the most
amazing things. MTV was still showing music videos, some of the most
incredible songs ever came out in 1995 and the year brought out some of the
most
memorable films. To summarize, 1995 was possibly the best year ever.
It’s no surprise, then, that I also had one of the best
summer vacations that year. I was 11 years old and summer officially started in
mid-June. My two sisters and I were already in full-swing summer mode within the
first two weeks of being released from school. Per the rules of summer - we
slept in late, got up in time to watch cartoons and game shows on television
and then proceeded to play our SNES and Sega Genesis until a little after lunch
which is also known to children as the perfect time to take a shower, get
dressed and go outside. These are the rules, so we followed them.
Outside, we naturally gravitate towards where our bus stop
usually is during the school year and meet up with all of our friends that live
in the neighborhood. We brainstorm ideas on what we should all do. Having
already watched TV, played video games and eaten food…the options were slim.
Somehow a genius among us recommends we go walking around the neighborhood (in
child language, we called it “going on an adventure”).
We decided an exploration seemed most suitable and my
sisters and I rehashed a tale of a snake that was found in our backyard the
summer before. My parents assumed the snake came from a ditch that ran on one
side of our backyard and throughout the yards of all of the houses in our block.
Naturally, we needed to explore the area, go through the break in the fence
behind my house and follow the ditch to wherever more snakes were living. An
adventure is not for the faint of heart, mind you – so the faint of heart all
departed to their separate homes claiming “boredom” and just a handful of us
brave souls set off for an exciting excursion into the deep, murky depths of
the ditch alongside my house.
Outside of the potential snakes, this was a dangerous
journey to start with, since the house directly behind mine belonged to an old
couple and the man was particularly crotchety. He had a garden in his backyard
and if we stepped foot on it, we would surely be eaten by his elusive wife
(whom we never saw and imagined she was a dragon that feasted on little
children). We all hurried through the
fence, ran fast past the old man’s garden (keeping an eye out for any smoke)
and made it past his house and the next few houses quickly. We stayed along the
side of the ditch for what seemed like hours until minutes later, we came
across a creek. The storm water emptied into the creek a few blocks down. As we
followed the creek, we could tell the water was getting a little deeper and
more rocks were appearing along the creek, so we climbed up onto a grassy hill
that ran along the right side of the water. At the top of the hill, a few feet
above the creek water, we came up to what would change our summer forever.
A fallen
tree trunk served as a bridge between our hilltop and the opposite side of the
creek, which was another grassy hill that backed up to someone’s large, wooden
fence. Without discussion, we knew we had to cross the log bridge and get to
the other side. The fate of our adventure depended on it! So, being the bravest
of them all, I decided to go first. The log was huge and sturdy; but one glance
down at the rushing creek water could cause even the surest foot a little
uncertainty. I tried to take my time across, straddling the log between my legs
and inching my way across as my sisters and friends cheered me on. When I was
nearly to the other side, I stood up…tried to balance myself and took one step
forward…all I needed was about three more steps and I’d be the first explorer
to cross the creek and declare the other side my own. My Christopher Columbus
moment was interrupted by the most menacing dog bark I’ve ever heard my whole
life. Apparently, Cujo was living on the other side of the creek and we
couldn’t see him (nor he us) due to the huge fence. But we definitely heard
him! I was so startled I almost fell over into the creek; but luckily I
regained my balance and jumped across to where Cujo was attempting to turn
barking into an Olympic sport. I was relieved to find no break in THAT fence
and assured the group that Cujo was all bark and no bite so they could venture
over. Once everyone reached the other side, we continued to explore (trying to
steer clear of Cujo’s fence). While the first part of the creek ran along a
street, we discovered that the hilltop and log bridge were kind of tucked away
beneath trees and not by too many houses. Basically, it was the perfect secret
hideout for a bunch of kids during the summer and we were so happy we were the
kids that discovered it!
During our trip back home, the few of us decided to make a
pact for the summer. The Creek was ours. All the other kids that failed to come
with us on the adventure would surely want to know about the secluded oasis we
found. But we didn’t want everyone to know about it. We pinky promised that we
would keep this a secret and if we decided as a group that we’d like to add someone
into our secret club, they would have to walk the creek.
For the remainder of the summer, we slowly began to add more
kids into our fold. We enjoyed watching newcomers, as a form of initiation into
our club, navigate the log bridge and nearly fall into the creek when Cujo
“greeted” them (he never failed us). Only one boy fell into the water the whole
summer; but we let him in the club anyway since it was so entertaining.
We spent the remainder of the summer dodging dragon ladies,
hunting for snakes and walking the creek. We played freeze tag, listened to all
the amazing music that came out that year on my walkman and talked about what
we wanted to do when we grew older. The trips to the creek stopped when school
began and the next summer wasn’t the same with everyone a little older and
going off to different camps and family trips – but that summer back in 1995
was one of the most incredible and memorable summers of my life. It might not
have been a long road trip, a camp experience or an exotic vacation – but it
was one fun-filled summer!
Image Credit: Pic
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