Today, Judy and I went to pick up a lady named Shirley to take her to get a new pair of glasses in a town that was about a half hour away. Shirley lives .. off the beaten path, let's say. To get to her, we had to cross over Sturgeon Creek. Twice.
The bridges one must cross to get over said creek are extremely narrow. I'd heard stories this week leading up to today about these bridges. Now, it's been raining on and off since I've been here, but it rained steadily all day today. When we picked up Shirley, the water was rushing under us. When we brought her home ..
Remember Oregon Trail? Remember fording the river with your oxen, and holding your breath while praying that you wouldn't lose any? Judy and I did that with a minivan today. The creek had risen very quickly, and we couldn't even see the edges of the bridge at all. I'm gripping the edges of my seat, Judy's white-knuckling the steering wheel, and Shirley's saying "Aw, go on ahead. Just drive straight." So, we did. And I'm typing this, so we clearly didn't get swept away. But we felt quite adventurous, indeed.
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