observations.

Occasionally it is programmed genetically into my feeble mind to take back roads to places that it makes no sense to take back roads to. Much to the chagrin of my wife who sits next to me, teeth rattling and wondering, “Now why is it that we aren’t out there going 75 plus miles and hour on that expressway that the state has paid millions of dollars to build and maintain?” She tries, but I know she couldn’t possibly fully understand what causes me to do such things. I’m not even sure. I don’t dislike it at all, I enjoy every second of it, but I don’t know exactly why it is that I do this.

The other day I drove from Fremont to just east of Hesperia. A trip that would normally take one about fifteen minutes, took us a bone jarring, clock staring forty five minutes to conquer. For those of you who are not familiar with this area, or are and still don’t know where I am talking about, just read this and imagine where it might be. It’s not that important to know where I went, but if you know where I went, you’ll appreciate it even more.

First I left Fremont via Green Avenue and headed north. Then I turned right on one of those 44th, 32nd, whatever streets that run perpendicular to Stone Road and Maple Island Road, I just wanted to get over on Stone Road so I could drive past the old farm I grew up on and see how it’s changed.

By the way, they cut down the gorgeous White Pine (hello, state tree?) that was in the yard adjacent to the blue pole building. Those of you who have been there remember it as a haven from the sun on a hot day during a good basketball game. Others will recall the day dad chained a full load of railroad ties to it and drove off in the truck. Much easier than unloading them by hand, and way more fun to watch, too. I bet the people living there now always wondered what made that crazy scar all the way around that tree.

Past that we went straight at the corner of M-20 (One Mile) and Stone, curving around past Baron’s old place, past the octagon house and finally north on Green Avenue again over the Green Avenue bridge (famous for a nice cool shady dip, jump off the bridge if you dare, after haying all day, or whatever the occasion). Someone who reads this might remember when we all took off in a hurry to get there and I forgot to strap down the windshield frame on my Jeep and just as I remembered to…SMACK! It uprighted itself. Good times.

So then we went up to oh say Three Mile and headed west past John Muckey’s and the Norris’ holy-crap-they-got-a-huge-dairy-farm and over to Dickinson Road. North on Dickinson, here’s where the fun began. I went straight (you heard right—read right, straight) at Glomb’s Corner toward (now you who don’t know, don’t laugh) Mountain Hill. I have climbed Mountain Hill many times. The difficulty in continuing on Dickinson through to Five Mile is not Mountain Hill; it is after Mountain Hill, at the top. Ruts, mud, rocks, you name it, they’ve got it. Now don’t get me wrong by thinking that Mountain Hill is not a challenge. To the guy in a stock Jeep, which I have repeatedly been up it in, it is a formidable opponent. But the real trouble does start at the top. You’ve got a better chance coming back down Mountain Hill than going on through to Five Mile, and I’ve had trouble getting down Mountain Hill too.

Needless to say, I did not subject my wife and sleeping baby to Mountain Hill. The first road to the south of it, I headed west again. Fortunately I have four wheel drive because this road, Five Mile I think, was pretty bad.

But once down this road a little, we got our gem, the reason I take back roads. Well, the second or third reason anyway. I will describe it but you have to go back and look at the pictures to understand.

We’re out there. We’re several miles from any town, and a small one at that, and here up on a sloping hill to my right, I observe what appears to me to be a cave, no, a man made cave, more of a pile of rocks with a large, distinct hole in it. But next to it was a large rock.

We might have just driven past if not for my sweet redneck radar and vast back road skills. I turned around to verify my suspicions. Yes, it was what I thought it was: a replica of Christ’s tomb complete with a brightly painted cross nearby. For what? I’ll never know, unless someone who knows why (knows, not suspects) reads this and tells me. Then I’ll tell you. Promise.

No matter what the reason, it was just one of those “what the…!?” moments that really make me raise my eyebrows, tilt my head and say…nothing. But what do you say?

This my friends is merely one example out of hundreds I have of strange and bizarre things I’ve found while out taking the back roads. Is it me? Do I have good/bad timing or and just happen to be in the right place at the right time to find things like a huge sign for a daycare facility in the middle of the woods at a deer camp? I have probably forgotten more bizarre discoveries from back roads than truly interesting ones that I have seen on “main roads.”

Taking back roads is easy for me. I know which direction I need to be and I just sorta guess my way along until I get there. Map? Of course. I’m not a canine. I need help and when Jill gets that look on her face (actually the side of her face or the back of her head as she turns and quietly asks her window why we are doing this), I need to have a plan B. An “out” if you will. Hence, the map. Don’t be afraid to head out.

So as I bring this all together, of course I’m gonna draw a parallel and get all philosophical on you. Sorry. If you don’t like it, simply enjoy the comedic (if any) value of this.

When we do things the same every day or every time or the same way other people do it, it can and does get boring. Like following a map, the easy way or the quickest or the simplest, may not always be the best, most satisfying or the most interesting. Don’t be afraid to spice things up by putting your own flair into things. When I drive home from Hesperia, ask any member of my family and they will tell you there are a hundred different ways to get to or from and a million combinations of them all. And I utilize them to lower the boredom factor.

Do things differently. If your job sucks or is a blast and you want something more, don’t just be an idiot and do something drastic, change yourself or the way you do the things you do and take a back road to get it done.

I don’t know if that made sense but I just had this floating around in my head for about a week now so…yeah, that’s pretty much it. Oh, and to those who were paying attention, I finished my way down Five Mile over to Maple Island road, headed south and drove past the swimming hole, over the bridge and into Hesperia. Then we headed west again right there by Ed’s and out of town past Vida Weaver park past those amazing and incredible stone castles that someone (does anyone have any information on these?) stone castle things on the south side of the road and on out to 192nd (a.k.a. Walkerville Road) and up to my brother Dave’s house where they were waiting and wondering what took us so long because they did the same trip in about fifteen minutes. Jill was happy to be there. I was happy to have gone there.