Road Rules Kathleen Jarschke-Schultze
Page 3
|
If the slide and the rocks were small enough Norma would
stop the bus
and she and the older boys would move the rocks out of the road enough
for the small bus to get by. If the slide were bigger than that she
would send out a call for the rock knocker. Sometimes the slide was so
big that even the rock knocker couldn’t clear it in time for school so
the second small school bus, driven by Creek, would be called by radio
relay, to come to the down river side of the slide. Norma and Creek
would run the kids across the slide as fast as possible from one bus to
the other and their journey to school would continue.
Once, on the main fork, there was a single rock the size of a
Volkswagon bus, which tumbled and fully blocked the road. It had to be
dynamited. Another time some kayakers were driving along the river road
when rocks started to fall on the road around them. They tried to keep
driving but the slide got worse, their car was blocked in so they got
out and ran for their lives. They arrived safely out of the slide area
but their station wagon, with kayaks atop, was covered by the slide,
taken over the embankment and buried in such a way that it could not be
seen or found. They had a heck of a time getting the insurance company
to pay their claim. The really funny part of this story is that almost
ten years later, after we had left the river, another slide uncovered
their station wagon more the worse for wear.
Up The Creek
We live in a different part of Siskiyou County now. We have 1.8 miles
of dirt road for a driveway. Although it has had its share of plagues,
flooding, toads, and tourists, it’s not that bad. Bob-O and our
neighbor, Stan, work on it when the timing is right. That’s when there
is the right amount of moisture in adobe clay that adding rock and
gravel will be effective. It used to be a much worse road. There was
one particular place where every time I drove our pickup, no matter how
slow I tried to take it, I would be bounced so hard and high my head
would hit the ceiling of the truck. That was one of the first places to
be fixed.
It’s still a dirt road though. In the winter it becomes mud and is
prone to new ruts and holes. If the rain lasts for very long the ruts
get so deep they grab my tires and roll me along their route like the
rails of a roller coaster. It is not the kind of road where you would
want to pick your nose or apply lipstick. But, for the most part it is
a nice, calm gentle road and the rocks that bound into my path are no
bigger than an overnight valise.
Kathleen Jarschke-Schultze is planning her garden and preparing for
bees at her home in Northern
Back to Short Stories
<Back
Back to Index |