The roads in swamp Florida are thin strips of civilization that must
constantly be defended from the constant press of nature pressing to
take it back. They are generally winding, thin and absolutely without
shoulder. They are often on a berm to keep them out of the wettest
and lowest of the bog and the result is that you drive on the tops of
long hills with little to no margin for error. The first night of our
visit the cousins their friend and I jumped in the miniature van and
drove the few miles to the junior college to go and play racquetball.
On the way we were overtaken by an ambulance, lights and sirens and
my cousin, quite correctly, pulled over to the side which meant into
the sloping vegetation which made up the non-existent shoulder. When
the ambulance had passed my cousin tried to pull back onto the road
but with the wheel turned too hard just succeeded in sliding down the
embankment and down into swamp territory. He tried a couple of times
to drive up but with too aggressive an attack the van just slid
around and deeper into the bayou. A little nervous and frustrated he
turned the van over to me to try and get out of the mush. With a few
kids pushing to get it started I took a nice gentle line back up the
hill and onto the road and soon we were back on the way to play some
racquetball. My cousin's friend mentioned that she was impressed at
my driving ability and I had to admire her excellent judgment of
character. That is when I think I decided she needed to be pursued so
I turned up the full force of my over-eager seventeen year-old charm
and was a little louder and more trying-too-hard-to-be-funny then
even usual.
