Hello everyone on this very beautiful sunny day in June.  It is a nice time of year.  This would be the time when dad and I would go out looking for those elusive insulators.  So here is another of our adventures together.  Dad and I are hiking mile after mile down the tracks.  Tromp, tromp.  Mile after long mile.  Tromp, tromp.  Finally we arrive at the first hill leaving behind that long section of lowland.  That was a long stretch, I said.  Dad looked at me and said, we’re only about 500 feet from the car!  That’s all?  Seems like we have been walking for miles, I said.  Bonehead, said dad.  At least he’s enjoying this.  It is a nice warm, sunny day.  Being wasted looking for some blobs of glass.  Amazing.  Why waste time collecting something that just holds wire to a pole?  Chunks of glass with no historical significance.

We should go back and find a nice spot to dig for some old bottles, I said, certainly a nice day for it.  Dad just looked at me.  Why waste time collecting bottles, he said.  They don’t even look nice.  Just look at those beautiful insulators sparkling in the sun, he continued, now that’s something to collect, with a lot of history behind them too.  We obviously look at those chunks of glass a little differently, I thought. 

I was hoping this higher ground would last for a while.  It was not to be however.  Just a small hill.  And a curve in the tracks.  Leading to miles of swamp.  Sigh.  Look at all the swamp, I said, might as well turn around now.  That’s opportunity, said dad, that swamp is dry and there will likely be a lot of insulators laying around just waiting for us.  Well, he might have a point.  Around here we have discovered that as insulators were removed, the linemen would toss them into the water, if there was any nearby.  Just wait, said dad, we will find a lot when you go down there looking for them.  Hmm, certainly went from we to me in a hurry, said I.

Well, the mud might be soft and you are lighter than I am, said dad.  I need to gain weight, I thought to myself.  Off I started down the embankment, which at this spot was only about 20 feet high, not as bad as some we have had to go down.  Maybe you should come along, I called back, after all, if I need help in a hurry it would be nice if you were closer.  Okay, said dad, and he started off.  Right then a train came roaring around that curve.  We didn’t hear a thing until it was right there, a common problem around here, those rock cuts always seemed to block the noise of those trains.

But it startled dad this time and he slipped.  And was he moving along down that embankment!  Right behind me.  No way I could go anywhere, there was wild rose bushes on both sides of me.  Only thing to do is run down and try to stay ahead of dad.  Right.  Suddenly, whump!  He hit me and I landed on his stomach, my backpack on dad’s face.  Ooohhhh, groaned dad.  But amazingly his glasses stayed on, usually they fall off quite easily.  As we came to the bottom I quickly rolled off dad and sploop!  Dad landed in a patch of wet, sloppy mud.  Bonehead!  Amazing that he could actually be enjoying sitting in that wet mud.

For my new readers, dad said bonehead a lot when we were out together.  I finally figured out it must mean he was enjoying himself.  Couldn’t think of any other reason for saying it.  Anyway, back to the story.  Wait, this is getting a bit long.  I will continue next time instead.  It is a beautiful sunny day.  I hope you are all able to get out and enjoy your week, God bless!

Steve and Muffin.

© 2019 Steve McLeod.