Deer Here

York County is country.  Farms and fields, acre after acre.  Woods and animals, mile after mile…

Practice went well and the whole team was pumped for the game the following afternoon.  I loaded up the van with our gear: bats, balls, gloves, helmets.  Half the team depended on me for a ride to the games.  Anything smaller than a van wasn’t going to get us to the ball field.

It was getting dark after dropping off my team mates.  I was exhausted after a long day of classes, followed by practice, followed by delivering my girls to their homes.  Calculus was on my brain, calculating how long it would take to do my homework after a hot, relaxing shower.  The showering thoughts made me sigh.

He came out of nowhere.  My mind was still lingering on the shower when the white of his chest caught my eye, just not quickly enough.  I slammed on the brakes.  They squealed loud, the rear of the van began to fish-tail.  The impact slowed my momentum but sped up my heart rate.

I put the van in park to see how much damage he did.  The front passenger side was crushed.  Headlight obliterated, turn signal broken and hanging from various wires.  Damn it!  I walked around to the side and realized the door was also crushed.  Fucking deer.  Must have swung around to do double damage, just my luck.

It was completely dark now and I only had one headlight.  I glanced over at the fucking buck, my guts twisting when I realized he wasn’t dead.  All that damage to my van and the son of a bitch is still kicking two of his four legs.  One was missing completely and the other bent at an unnatural angle.  This didn’t stop him from attempting to get up.  His struggling, snorting and blood coming from various injuries should have evoked sympathy for the white-tail.  It didn’t.

I walked to the back of my van and opened one of the double doors.  I pulled out the team’s equipment bag and dragged it around to the front.  Two solid swings and his escape attempts ceased.

“You’re outta here!” I yelled, to no one in particular.

gaping wounds and punctured tires

Keeping up the bridge at Beaver Hole must be a challenge.  The wear and tear on this structure is catching up to York County quickly.  This photo was taken March 17, 2011.

Just two months later and several fierce storms the side of the bridge looked like this..

and my coffee cup had room to spare!!  The county is aware of the condition of this bridge and has emailed me that it will be repaired this summer.  I am hoping its early summer versus late as the mortar and now stone, is just falling away.

big bread, little fish

 While standing on the bridge, feeding the fish, I noticed the concrete was eroding away where the road and bridge connect.  Upon closer inspection I see the rebar is sticking out of the crack.  Not just showing, but actually sticking out with pointed edges, waiting to puncture a tire.

tire hazard

As you can see in the picture, the crack is large and the metal sticking out is plenty long enough to puncture a tire.

Where the Beavers roam

Travelers on the Bull Road beware….if the bridge doesn’t collapse on you, it may just take a bite of your tire instead!

On a good note…..someone loves Judy!


Roots, rot and wrecks

Forensic Bridgeology Report.  Bull Road. Warrington Township  PA

Angry fingers grasping the dirt

B: Forest-The trees bare their roots against their will.  Water and ice rise during the rainy, cold seasons tearing away the life supporting soil.  Roots tear out of the ground like fingers, desperate to keep hold of the dirt.  The fingers are of many hands, twisted, deformed and arthritic.  Clinging to their last chance of life.

D Roadside:  People drive to fast on country roads.  Country roads are tricky for city slickers.  They are also quite tricky for drunks.  One particular tree along Bull Road stands out among the rest.  This tree suffers many scars from drivers who just didn’t navigate  that curve correctly.  It’s not that difficult to menuver but just as you take that itty, bitty curve and start to straighten the wheel, out of nowhere this tree suddenly jumps out and bites your car on the passenger’s side. 

  R: Active decay- Nature has a way of recycling herself.  Giant pine trees that once towered over the creek now lay on the forest floor.  The felled pines have been there for decades, maybe longer.  The remains of a pine tree are ugly, bug infested and decaying.  The branches are bare of bark and poke out like skeletal arms of different lengths.  Perhaps fending off the decay thats slowly returns the body, back to the ash it was born.

More sections of forensic report to come!

It’s a York County bridge!!

I heard back from Dover Township very quickly.  The bridge ID#66722009243209 and here is what they had to say:

Ms Crider,
the bridge is maintained by York County.
According to a PennDOT list of York County bridges it was inspected in Feb 2009 and due to be inspected the end of this month.

He also gave me the name and phone number of the gentleman who would know more about that specific bridge.  So, now I’m on a personal search for information on this bridge.  I sent my original webblog page “who’s bridge is this?” to this contact person and also requested information on its history.  coincidentally, I have to write a non-fiction story about something I feel closely about.  Since I already have the momentum flowing, I’m going to stick with the Beaver Hole bridge theme. 

These pictures are from July last year.  My sister is so graceful.  She winds up in the water every time we go to Beaver Hole.  Tesla and Blaine love it there and it makes for beautiful background in pictures. 

The most recent picture is of Tesla yesterday. 

More posts to come about Beaver Hole and the story of the BIG LEAF FIND!

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