One thing I hated about driving in the city of Baltimore was the hazards of too many people. Roads are crowded with drivers who got their license out of a Cracker Jack box and pedestrians crossing the road everywhere except in the crosswalk when and where they are supposed to cross.
“Ahh, the country life!” I thought. “No people and quiet roads.”
Almost.
First, the locals down here don’t know what “Stay in your lane” means. Through all the twists and turns, they do their best to straighten out the road – at seventy miles per hour on a road best traveled at thirty. That I haven’t rounded a turn and into a head-on collision is nothing short of a miracle. (Of course, I now travel those same roads at seventy, but I do stay in my lane. That’s a hazard of becoming too familiar with a road. I need to slow down.)
On the thirty-mile trip through the marshlands, I might meet one or two cars. During rush hour, I might meet as many as five. While the occasional time I round a sharp turn and meet a car is startling, I’m fairly comfortable that the marshland roads are a hundred and two times safer to drive than any city street as far as being concerned about the other driver.
Pedestrians are another story.
In the city, pedestrians are easy to spot. And they’re usually pretty smart. They might start to cross the road, but then have second thoughts and jump back up on the sidewalk until you pass. Sure, some just like to tee you off by pretending they own the road, but none does anything really stupid like run out in front of you as if they were a blind mouse.
On the marshland roads, the pedestrians aren’t people. The multitude of animals freely cross the road wherever and whenever they want. The animals haven’t quite figured out what a vehicle is and always act scared and surprised when they see one. Some animals love to frolic in the road. As much as a vehicle scares them, they haven’t made the connection that roads equal vehicles.
And, unlike pedestrians in a city who you clearly see on the sidewalk before they try to do something stupid, the animals come out of nowhere, without warning, from inside the woods or tall grass.
Reptiles and amphibians are notorious for loving the warm pavement of the road. I’ve long since lost count of how many turtles I have moved off the road and how many frogs I have dodged. Rescued snakes are fewer because I swear people purposely swerve to hit them. Just last week, though, Keith and I did rescue a king snake resting in the middle of the road. He rested peacefully on the warmth as we passed him. We got him out of the middle of the road within minutes of another car coming. There’s no doubt that that driver would have purposefully aimed his vehicle at the snake as he rested comfortably.
We did meet one person who is so terrified of snakes that when we asked her if she purposefully runs them over if they are in the road, her answer was an emphatic, “No!”
“Really?” we asked.
“Of course not. If I try to run them over, they might jump up under my car, get inside, and attack me.”
So to anyone who wishes to visit Toddville, heed this warning. If you try to run over a snake, it’ll get you. If it can’t get into your car to attack you for your mean-spiritedness, it’ll hitch a ride under your car until you get home. Then it will slither into your house and get you while you are asleep. Word to the wise: swerve to miss the snake in the road.
Below is a list of cautions anyone should be aware of if they choose to drive through the Toddville tidewaters.
- Early spring or late fall when the nights are cool, watch out for the amphibians and reptiles. They like the warmth of the road and will be lying on it. Surprisingly, even a large turtle is hard to see until you are on top of it. Drive slowly and watch out for them.
- After a rainstorm, watch out for the frogs and toads. They’ll blanket the roadway. No matter how hard you try, you will hit some, but drive extra slow and avoid as many as you can. Think of your drive as that old arcade game, Frogger. The twist, of course, is that you aren’t the frog getting across the road. You’re the driver of the vehicle trying to allow as many frogs to get across as you can.
- From about sometime in September to about sometime in December, keep in mind that deer are especially dumb. It’s their rutting season so between raging hormones, does trying to escape the non-stop amorous advances by the stags, and hunters behind every tree, the deer aren’t thinking straight. They’re running every which way and, in that split second you see one, the way you think they are running is not the way they choose to run. It’ll take a lot longer, but from dusk to dawn, slow your speed down to less than forty. It could save a fortune in insurance bills.
- Early spring around April and May at sunrise watch for the ducks standing in the road. I’m not sure what fascination the road holds for them, but they’ll be there. In that early morning light, you won’t see them until you hear the splat. If there’s water around, go extra slow. That pretty much means go extra slow through the whole road.
- Middle to end of July from late afternoon to dusk, be wary of the mother turkeys. Their young are out an about and, as the sun starts setting low, Mom is trying to find a roosting place for her and her young. Without warning, the mother will dart out of the tall grass in the ditches alongside the road and take flight. They wait until you are close enough before they dart out. Unfortunately, getting more than twenty pounds airborne takes some effort so if you’re going to fast, you’ll hit Mom. Drive slower and don’t hit Mom.
- Dusk or dawn, watch out for foxes. They’ll dart out in front of you and you’ll slow down thinking they have plenty of room to get across, but then they’ll double back on you. Sometimes, they’ll double back and race your vehicle. Sometimes, they’ll double back and double back again. It must be their smartness. Foxes are known to double back on their tracks to confuse their predators. To them, your vehicle is a predator and they are doing their best to confuse you. If you see a fox, come to a near stop until the dang thing figures out where it wants to go.
There you have the safety rules of driving in the Toddville tidewaters area. If you can’t remember the specifics, sum it up as drive slowly and be alert. On your trip, if it’s not already in the road as you’re coming, it’ll surely dart out in front of you while you’re going.
© 2007
Mark Darien
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