I made the drive up to Waverly. Being able to drive again is such a godsend. It feels as if I have been oppressed forever and now I am free at last. I rolled down all the windows and felt the wind on my face and in my hair.
I pulled out onto the dirt road leading to the pond passing by the former home of my late great uncle. The house looks in terrible shape and is falling in on itself. I stopped on the old wooden bridge over the train tracks. I heard a freight train coming and wanted to watch it. This old wooden bridge was built in the early part of this century out of creosote soaked railroad ties. I am always amazed that it is still standing and in good shape. I stood there on the bridge as the freight train roared underneath me. I could feel the bridge shake under my feet. My heart pounded from the adrenaline. The squeal of the flanges on the wheels filled the air as the train rounded the curb. I stood there for a long time until it had passed and I saw the end of train device blinking further and further off in the distance until it disappeared around the curve. I got back into the car to the sound of rumbles of thunder off in the distance.
I drove out the dirt road and decided to forego fishing that evening and head on to my camping spot. It was going to come up a gully washer in a few moments. I parked the car in a clearing off from the dirt road and hiked up an old fire line “road” to my camping spot. This was the place I used to camp at when I was homeless sometimes. There is a nice level clearing covered with pine straw looking out on a field of broom sedge at the edge of piney woods. I hurriedly set up my tent and put all my gear inside. I got into my tent and started to unroll my sleeping bag and organize my gear. The thunder was growing ever louder in intensity as I sat there. I had the door open and looked out across the field and saw a line of heavy rain marching towards me. I could see streaks of lightening hitting the ground off on the horizon. Oh boy, here we go, I thought to myself.
The storm turned out to be one hell of a light and sound show. One strike of lightening was so close I could feel my bones rattle from the thunder. I winced and cringed several times with my fingers crossed. Heavy winds buffeted my tent and I was glad I took the time to push my stakes into the ground. The storm didn’t last long though and was over and gone almost as soon as it arrived. This is typical for the south on a hot and hazy summer’s day.
The sky soon cleared to a beautiful blue filled with puffy cumulus clouds. Steam was wafting up off of the land in the hot afternoon sun after all that rain. I set out to find some firewood and get supper started. After building a teepee of wood, no amount of trying would get the damp wood to start. It just would not catch fire. No hoboes for me last night. I ended up pulling out my little Coleman camp stove and screwing on a butane cylinder I had in my backpack. I made a poor man’s stew out of the ground beef, potatoes, and onions. It was almost like a hash but tasted surprisingly good.
I closed the evening by lying on my sleeping bag and reading a book as the sun set. The sky turned a beautiful orange and pink as the sun slid down beyond the horizon. Before long I was sound asleep with the book lying on my chest. I awoke early in the morning to the dark of the pre-dawn and just laid there for a long time. The night had turned really cool and I crawled into my sleeping bag pulling my camp pillow under my head. I laid there for what seemed like hours until the sky had grow light enough for me to see and I packed all my gear up and headed for the car. It was a great night and I am almost tempted to drive back out there again today.
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