Threads

 

Before we move on, let's look at what I will call memory threads. These will be those memories we all have that fill in the time between the more arching moments of our life and give us continuity with our past. Of course, more things happened in our high school years than any can attempt to recall, but here are a few that come to mind.

Things like fishing trips with my Dad, they would range from going down to the old muddy creek bank fishing, to fishing at the bluff on the Tennessee River. On those more special occasions, we would go to Pickwick and fish below the Dam. Those memories are specifically vivid, the earlier trips when I was younger made quite an impression. The place seemed so huge, the water especially turbulent and noisy. We would stop by a little fishing store on the way and buy a thing called a barracuda. It was a small shiny metal lure with one hook on the end. It was used to catch what we called Skip Jacks. They were not for eating, just catching. Dad would use their guts to bring home as bait for Catfish when we were fishing at the bluff. I suppose fishermen still do that, however, we just gutted them there on the bank and pitched what was left back in the river. I suspect you probably couldn't do that now, kind of a messy process. I enjoyed these trips with my Dad, but we never really talked. It was all about the fishing trip, usually, I just listened to the Conversations between my Dad and whoever went with us. Times like these are excellent opportunities to watch for ways to teach our children life lessons. We both missed that opportunity, we focused on the fishing and not each other. 

I realized I did much the same thing, I thought just spending time with my boys was being a good Dad. But I realize now our children need more than just time, we need to communicate to them how to live and what to expect out of life. Prepare them for many of the things we as parents have already walked through. We do much the same thing with our faith, we take them to church, but in actual life, we rarely ever communicate our faith to them. Such as studying with them in family devotions and answering their questions about faith and life issues. It is good to take our children to church and let them see our Christian faith lived out through family adventures. However, they need more than just time spent, they need us to communicate what we know to them. Later in life, there were things I needed to know, things I later felt too old to ask Dad about. It would have been helpful had he taken the initiative and given me more guidance. If you didn't get that guidance, that's not an excuse to lay at anyone's feet, just a helpful note we can apply to our own families.  

On another note, as the newfound friendships were developing from the Old Store adventures, there was a band of boys forming closer to home as well. A family from out of state had purchased a farm adjoining our property. As a matter of fact, that old abandoned road bed that we traveled through the woods to my cousin's house went right through the middle of it. This family built a really nice home on the farm and appeared financially wealthy as compared to my way of life. However, those boys never hinted that this might be the case.  You would have thought they never even noticed the old shack of a house we lived in. They were special boys, I know that because when they arrived they did so on Tora motorcycles. These bikes were made by Rockford and were rare in these parts.  

I had never seen a Tora, so a Tora friendship immediately sprang. I was quite amazed, especially at the youngest. He was too small to get both feet on the ground at the same time. He would start it while on the Kickstand, then take off and jump on it. If you have never ridden a motorcycle, you have no idea what an advantage you have if you can get your feet on the ground. My amazement was the places he was able to ride that thing while not being able to touch the ground. In those days if you were driving around the community, you would see little paths meeting the road's shoulder. These little paths would lead to a small bat cave-like entrance into the woods. These were trails that were interlinked which we traveled in our adventures. 

Times were a bit different back then, we had no idea whose property we were on and it never became a problem. We were just boys and we were just riding, it seemed the world was our playground. One such place was called "blue cliff." Again, we had no idea whose property it was, it never occurred to us that should matter. The name "blue cliff" was simply the name we gave it. It was a wooded area that dipped down into a valley. At the bottom was a branch that ran with water for most of the year. This particular part of the Branch or stream had this blue clay exposed in the bank. A portion of the bank had this cliff that was probably 25 feet or so high.  To us then, it looked more like 60. I guess it's that boy thing again, but we felt it necessary to climb it with our motorcycles. If you could, well, let's just say you gained the respect of this band of boys. We would spend our time helping each other get our bikes to the top, sit and talk about the fact we actually did it among other boy things. We even had some vines cut so we could swing the Tarzan way across the Branch. Our parents let us go off on these adventures, and many times we took our guns with us, if we killed anything we skinned it and cooked over an open fire. Then we would try to eat it if it was eatable! We always had our knives, like I said, times were a bit different then. 

There were 5 of us that met regularly at the blue cliff and the surrounding trails, it was a place for boys to go and feel like men. Once a group of real men who road big dirt bikes came through, they somehow knew about our trails and cut through them. It was an exciting day, we went down as soon as we saw them. They were gone by the time we got there, but we could see their tracks. We were amazed! Their bikes tore up the ground in our trials like we had never seen! We talked about it all day, it was one of those things you would take a picture of with your phone and post on Facebook! But if we had those things back then, there probably wouldn't have been any trails to start with. 

While we are on the subject of climbing hills, it must be a thing boys feel is necessary. There was a place about 40 miles or so from the house.  We had heard you could go there and ride your dirt bikes all day. Of course, having heard that, it had to be checked out! 

It was said there was a hill there that was about 300 feet high, one person was said to have already been killed trying to climb it. Now I remind you, I have never claimed to be a brave man. However, all this sure sounded intriguing. Remember that image I was trying to promote? I couldn't help considering that even trying to climb that hill would be a great boost to that endeavor! As it turn out, this truly was a great place to go and spend the day with friends and ride our bikes. There was an old country store within a short ride. After a full morning of riding, we would ride our bikes to this old store and buy ourselves some beanie weenies, crackers, cupcakes, and a Coke. I have never eaten beanie weenies anywhere that tasted as good as they did there. Dirt bikes, trails, friends, and beanie weenies, it was hard to even think of life being any better!

We made this trip at different times with different friends, and of course, tried to climb that big hill. This was no blue cliff, this was a monster! It was very steep and full of rocks and was indeed nearly 300ft to the top. I, nor anyone with me was ever successful in making it to the top, as much as I enjoyed bringing up the fact I had tried, it would never be as good as being able to say I actually did. In my Senior year of high school, my DKW friend and I decided to skip school and go over there and CLIMB THAT HILL. I think I was riding my CanAm 125cc at the time, I don't know how many times we tried. There was a 2 or 3-foot lip near the top that was practically straight up. We were able to make it there, but that lip stopped us every time. Once, I was able to throw the bike over the top of the lip. I then climbed over it myself and pushed the bike over the top. I will have to admit, sometimes when speaking of the hill, I would confess to climbing it without thinking to mention the part about pushing it over the top. Hey, after all, that fact is just a small technicality.

Those days were special, the hill and the trails associated with it are no longer available to be ridden. Times change as well as our lives, it is a reminder that our world as well as our lives are very short and temporary. At the time it seemed life would be forever, I took little thought of tomorrow or what course I was going to take in life. I suppose that's the way it is for most of us, however, should we not enjoy such moments while at the same time being aware of their brevity? Would that not prod us to consider our lives more seriously? As I consider all the things I was able to do as a young man, I am reminded of Joni Eareckson Tada. She was a young girl during this same period of time that was injured in a diving accident at the age of 17. I remember first hearing about her through a movie that came out about her life. Much like us, she was out with a group of friends having fun together. She has been a paraplegic now for over 50 years. Yet in all her difficulties, her faith in God and Christ as her Savior is so profound. She has grown spiritually so much more than I have. She is an inspiration to me, every time I feel the pain of aging or face some difficulty, all I have to do is consider her and I immediately turn to a grateful attitude with a humble heart. My problems suddenly look very small indeed. 

High school would end and another chapter would begin, but then, that's another story.

God bless,

David