You know, while we were in South Georgia for the wedding, we did something that brought a lot of things back to mind . . . we drove down dirt roads.
Believe it or not, pavement is a relatively new invention! I know . . . right?!?! It's not something you really think about since we take our roads and highways for granted.
Navigable roads were actually first built in ancient Mesopotamia, way back in about 4000 BC (or so they surmise). . . there were some real forward thinkers in that society. Their choice of material: stone and handmade bricks. Nah, they had no cars, but I imagine that after getting your chariot stuck in mud a time or two, you might start thinking "There's got to be a better way!"
Would you believe archaeologists uncovered roads made from timber in Glastonbury . . . in England? Does that place sound familiar? Camelot ring a bell? Yep, the legend of King Arthur hails from Glastonbury!
It wouldn't be until the 1700's that more modern roads would be built: layers of large stones, broken stones, and a layer of finer gravel. Still . . . no cars though! Tar roads wouldn't be built until the early 1800's. And in 1824 the first "modern" road was built and paved: The Avenue des Champ-Elysees located in Paris. France liked to get ahead of the curve!
By the late 1800's America started paving, and our first paved road was none other than Pennsylvania Avenue. Recognize that road?
But paving was expensive!! Many of our cities chose to pave their roads with brick, and if you visit places like Savannah, Charleston, or Georgetown, you'll see them. I love brick roads; they're very charming . . . take you back to another time and place if you close your eyes. Okay, I'll admit brick roads are very uneven and can be rather noisy, but I like them anyway. I've seen a resurgence in the building of brick roads, and I looked it up . . . cities are turning back to brick for paving for a variety of reasons: flood control, aesthetics, speed control. Even our campus has some brick inlay at some of their intersections . . . makes it a lot prettier!
However we're not talking paved roads . . . we're talking dirt!
I've driven down a LOT of dirt roads in my life . . . some of my best memories come from dirt roads! My oldest memory is of going to see my grandparents when they lived in South Carolina . . . the car kicked up a lot of dirt on dry, dusty days. Most of Grammy's family lived in Georgia . . . on old dirt roads! We even drove down dirt roads in Europe . . . to camp, to explore!
When we got back to Georgia from Spain, Grandmother Cochran and Papa lived in a trailer on a dirt road . . . he farmed while she ran the trailer park for the guys who worked out at Plant Hatch (that's the nuclear plant outside of Lyons). Well, they weren't EXACTLY dirt . . . more red clay . . . but they certainly weren't paved. MY favorite days . . . but no doubt the bane of all those who drove . . . were the rainy days . . . that heavy soaking rain that stopped the world sometimes. After the rain was when the "magic" happened: the air smelled fresh, mud puppies appeared in the ditches, people stayed home if they didn't "need" to go somewhere, snapping turtles emerged, and those dirt roads turned slick and muddy!! All of us kids would run out and spend the day sliding down those roads . . . we didn't need sleds or plastic trays . . . we slid on our bellies and butts and backs!!! Then we'd head down to the ditches off Highway 1 to capture mud puppies, generally terrorizing those poor creatures who no doubt hated landing in the hands of 12 year olds, scoop up tadpoles to put in jars so we could watch them transform into frogs, try to get a snapping turtle to crack a stick in half with its powerful jaws!
I spent a couple of weeks out of the summers, after I turned 15, at Aunt Gwenera and Uncle James' farm, and they lived on a dirt road. We'd pick tobacco from "can't to can't" and then spend the evenings playing basketball, catching fireflies, playing tag, making ice cream while breathing in that Georgia dirt. I loved watching farm trucks go by at breakneck speeds just to watch the dust fly! Nothing felt better on bare feet (well except for a few days after the rain, when the dirt hardened to a concrete like state and the rocks felt jagged).
In my adult years I found dirt roads out west that led to amazing sights: Devils Tower and Wind River Canyon in Wyoming, Canyon de Chelley in Arizona, dozens of old missions in Montana, ghost towns in Colorado, Deadwood in South Dakota (a real "wild west" town).
Dirt roads . . . to me . . . were freedom!
I hope you know dirt roads one day!
John Muir, a naturalist, author, glaciologist, and an early advocate for the preservation of our natural lands, was known as the "Father of National Parks" . . . he had this to say:
"Of all the paths you take in life, make sure some of them are dirt."
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