I’m sure I previously mentioned that I grew up in the suburbs. This was in Atlanta, GA. When we first moved into the house I grew up in (back in 1960), there was a thin band of woods behind our back yard. Beyond that was an open field, then a creek, a steep hill, and more woods. There was also a small wooded lot diagonally across our street. A creek divided that lot from its house, then it went under our street through a pipe a few doors down. Eventually it joined the previously mentioned creek.
So, I had plenty of places to start, if I wanted to follow a creek. I also enjoyed following the rabbit trails through whatever woods I could find. I’d climb trees, run the paths, and there was even a place where I could slide on my butt down a steep embankment. Such fun!
There’s something else I did sometimes, in my early teens. We had lots of pine trees. I’d heard my older brother telling our mother about how he did this with his best buddy at our previous house. I was younger than 4 back then, so I didn’t know any better. But, I heard what I heard.
So now, at 12 or 13, I’d climb up to the top of a pine tree, where it was really thin, and start it swaying back and forth. Eventually I’d get it swaying enough so that I could jump from one tree to another—just like I’d seen the squirrels do!
But let me be clear: it was hard, and it was scary. It was hard to get the tree to sway enough to be able to get close enough to jump from one tree to another…and scary because I never knew for sure if I’d make it to the other tree.
I didn’t find out until I was grown, in my early 30s, that my 10-years-older brother told me that he made up those stories just to freak out our mother. (He was also amazed that I had actually done what he had only claimed to do!)
But all that changed within a few years of moving there. Since we didn’t own any property beyond our meager back yard, we had no control when the actual owners decided to develop their property.
Yes, the people that owned the open field behind the small wooded lot behind our yard decided to develop it. They changed the entire landscape, got rid of the trees, and built apartments. (This was all done so their son-in-law would have a job, as I found out later.)
So, I would always watch the guys with all the cool earth-moving equipment, as they pushed down trees, dragged them off, and just generally re-arranged hills and other things. They even moved the creek on the far side of the field. They just pushed it over, and got it out of the way, to make room for more apartment buildings. To accomplish that, they chopped off the hill and created a steep embankment, then they dug out a new groove for the creek to run in. They filled in the old creek and presto! Now they had more room for another row of apartment buildings. I watched them move all that earth, and I learned from it.
Many years later, when I got a job as an equipment operator on a construction crew, I was able to put it all to work for me! I knew exactly how to accomplish the objectives, so all I needed to learn was how to actually operate the equipment. That part was easy for me, push this lever to go forward, pull on that one to turn left. This lever lifts and lowers the bucket, and so on.
I also watched the next crew build those apartments—the bricklayers, then the carpenters… as they constructed the frames… all the way to the roofers putting the shingles on. I learned so much from watching those crews!
Ok, so back to my story.
Now, the steep embankment that the “earth-moving guys” created when they chopped off that hill to shove the creek over is where I learned to slide off an embankment. It was really fun, I’d just take a little run—or better yet, make it look like I slipped and fell over the edge, then slide on my butt down the steep grade, disappear over the edge… a fraction of a second of free-fall, and finally drop onto a pile of dirt next to the creek.
The kids back at the top freaked out when they saw me disappear over the edge, they thought I was a goner! But I couldn’t wait to do it again. I just had to figure out a shortcut to getting back to the top. But there wasn’t one, it was a long hike. When I finally got back up there, the other kids sure were surprised to see me!
For a long time, I wasn’t happy about the development of those apartments. They did away with a tract of woods behind my house! And that open field was where my dad taught me how to ride a bike. Yeah, they got me a bike that was (of course) way too big, I couldn’t get near the ground with my feet when I was on the seat. So, he’d hold the bike between his knees while I climbed aboard, then he would release me to coast down the hill. Balancing was easy, but I couldn’t reach the pedals except when they were at the top of their arc, so I couldn’t pedal very weel. And, when I stopped, I couldn’t simply “put my feet down.” No, I’d just fall over. So that was the true value of learning on that grassy field.
As far as I was concerned, the only good thing that came about as a result of those apartments was that lots of families moved in. That wasn’t great by itself, but most of those families had kids—and some of them were around my age. That’s where those kids came from that I refer to, regsrding the embankment slide-off.
Especially I enjoyed the girls, I’m sure I mentioned that. But I could never think of what to say to engage them in conversation. Apparently, they had the same problem. So, while I was playing ball, or just hanging out with the guys, I’d gaze over at the girls. They were often gazing back. What a waste of time, ‘cuz we were young and inexperienced. If only….
Seriously, I did make some good friends with those kids. We’d go hiking, play ball, ride bikes, or walk on the railroad tracks. On those long walks, sometimes we’d even share stories. Sometimes, those stories would be fantasies about those girls.
So anyway, besides playing ball, frisbee and other stuff with friends, I did enjoy my time alone in the woods. I had hours of fun running the trails, climbing trees, swinging on vines of kudzu, and so forth.
Another thing I enjoyed was following the creek near my house, to see where it went. The first part wasn’t so great, where I had to climb & crawl through the drain pipes that went under the street. But, I’d end up back in the open air soon. Then I could just follow along the creek and see where it went. I discovered waterfalls, cataracts, and even a culvert that went under railroad tracks. Now, that one wasn’t a pipe, it was a tunnel. It was big, and open, and even had a ledge to walk on, so I didn’t have to get wet. (By the time I got there, I’d already dried out from crawling through the pipes, crossing the creeks, etc.)
In some places this creek was pretty deep. I found a few places to swim, and even found a rope swing at one place, where you could swing out, let go of the rope, fly through the air a bit, and plunge into deep water. That was fun. Along the way, I caught a large salamander (of course I released it), and saw a very large eel. Big, fat thing, must’ve been really old, too.
The cataract falls that I discovered turned out to be a great place to take girls in my early teen years. It wasn’t like Tululah Gorge, but it was nice. The water running over the granite, rushing downhill made a cool sound. The water was cold, but not biting cold (except in winter). We could even go skinny-dipping…and stuff. Being secluded…well, it was nice for privacy. Except there was one house, way on up the hill that overlooked. Many years later, I discovered that one of my college professors lived there for decades. Certainly he never….no, he wasn’t home during the day…was he?!
One of the great parts was that, once I left my neighborhood, I wasn’t in anyone’s yard. I mean, I know someone owned the property, but they didn’t care if I went hiking by. I wasn’t actually in their yard, or near their house.
I learned that I could also get to the cataract by hiking along the railroad tracks for part of the way. The railroad tracks were not very far from my house (maybe a mile). Then I just had to watch for the steep path that led down off the tracks, to the tunnel where the creek ran underneath. After climbing down that path, I’d end up where the creek came out after going under the railroad tracks. Then I just followed the creek the rest of the way to the cataracts. Easy hike.
Those railroad tracks, after 5 miles or so, passed under a bridge. If I climbed up to the street above, I ended up next to a Dairy Queen—which I frequented in my teens.
My wandering and following creeks gave me a lot of enjoyment in the outdoors. Maybe it was the suburban area of a big city, but out in the woods it seemed like wilderness. No, I never saw any deer or other “large” game, but I also never saw any roads, or heard any traffic. Just trees and nature. It was nice.