Adventure with a twist of humor across America

By Frosty Wooldridge 

“Plunge boldly into the thick of life, and seize it where you will, it is always interesting.” Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

            No matter where you travel on an adventure, you leave your normal daily orbit and fly into other cultures, languages and conditions.  It matters little which state or which country or which continent.  You will find yourself in the thick of life and you will always, as Goethe said, “…find it interesting.”  Sometimes, great anger may consume you, but then, wild laughter at the folly and capriciousness of humanity may follow.  This tale offers a range of emotional reactions.

Outside Vicksburg, Mississippi on Route 80, my brother Howard and I cranked east through the midday heat. 

            Heat waves rippled off the summer pavement while the blazing sun baked the land.  Trees lined the highway with crows and sparrows flying in all directions.  One crow was having a difficult time as four sparrows darted in on him, pecking at his feathers.  Each time they attacked, he dove away from them.

            “Those guys are giving that big bird a hard time,” said Howard.

            “I have never figured out why they attack a crow like that,” I said.

            “Maybe it gets down to territorial turf,” said Howard.  “Hey, we should make Vicksburg pretty soon. You want to stop at a salad bar place and clean them out?”

            “Good idea.”

            Riding in the south during the summer cooked bicyclists with heat and humidity.  It was so hot we looked like one of those commercials where they fry an egg on the hood of a car.  We were the eggs.  Howard and I left a trail of splashes from our sweat-soaked bodies.  

Nonetheless, we looked forward to the Civil War monuments in Vicksburg.  We smiled and waved at passing cars.  The people in the Deep South moved at a snail’s pace.  Folks seemed to get a kick out of our riding cross-country through their state. They took pictures of us along with their families crowding around our bikes.

            With so much attention, we had a lot to talk about after leaving a photo session.  People said the darnedest things about touring riders.  They kept us laughing because they thought we were either courageous or crazy.

            As we chatted back and forth, a police cruiser passed us traveling west.  We waved at him.  He waved back but had a stern look on his face.

I watched him go by in my rear view mirror. Seconds later, he turned the car around and flipped on his flashing red lights.

            “That cop turned around,” Howard said.

            “Must be he got a call for an emergency back down the road,” I said.

            I expected the cruiser to fly past us.  But it didn’t.  The police officer pulled in behind us.

            “That cop is pulling us over,” I said.

            “Probably for speeding,” Howard joked.  “Maybe he’s going to give us a ticket for going too slow.  Now wouldn’t that be a good one?  No, he’s going to give us tickets for not having a license to drive a bicycle.”

            We pulled our bikes to a stop.  A rotund, middle-aged officer in a blue uniform got out of his cruiser.  We stood astride our bikes looking back at him. We weren’t sure why he had stopped us.

            “Afternoon boys,” he said, walking up to me.

            “How are you, sir?”  I said.

            “I’m fine,” he said.  “When I passed you boys, I noticed you were smiling and laughing.”

            “Yes, sir,” Howard said. “We’re having a great day.  We just love it here in Louisiana.  In fact, we’re hoping to meet Huckleberry Finn when we cross the Mississippi.” 

            “How far ya’ll going?” the officer asked in a brusque voice.

            “We’re cycling across America,” I said.  “Pacific to the Atlantic.”

            “You boys ever had your heads examined for mental righteousness?”

            “Our mom told us we were crazy to ride our bikes across America,” Howard said.  “But, so far, the craziness hasn’t killed us.”

            The officer looked over our packs as if he might be looking for something.

            Right then, I didn’t like this guy’s demeanor.  My dad always told us to be polite and keep smiling at a policeman.  This was one of those times to be extra polite.

            “Have you had a good time in Louisiana?” he asked in a stern voice.

            “Yes, sir,” I said. “We’ve had a real fine time and we’re looking forward to Mississippi.”

            “Right now, you’re in my jurisdiction,” he said.  “When I drove by you, it looked like you were having a lot of fun.”

            “Yes, sir, you could say that,” Howard said.

            “Would you say you’re having too much fun?” the man asked, straight faced.

            “Too much fun?” I said, quizzically. “Well, er, yes sir, we’re probably having too much fun.  Right, Howard?”

            “Yes sir, that’s right, we’re having too much fun.”

            The officer stepped closer.  He looked serious.  Maybe I had seen too many movies with redneck cops hassling people.  Nonetheless, I was concerned.  He looked the part. He sported a thick neck, crew cut, short fat fingers, belly hanging over his belt and boots that hadn’t been polished in several months.

            “I hate to say this, boys, but there’s an ordinance in this county against having too much fun.  People have gotten out of hand in the past from partying too much.  Because I’m an officer of the law, I’m sworn to uphold that ordinance.  I have to write ya’ll a citation.  May I see some form of identification?”

            “Sure, officer,” we replied, giving him our driver’s licenses.

            “A law against having too much fun?” Howard said.

            “That’s right, boys,” he said.  “You wait here while I write you up.  I see you’re brothers.”

            “Yes, sir,” I said.

            “I’ll be right back in a few minutes,” he said, walking away.

            “This is crazy,” Howard said.  “This guy is out to lunch.  He’s only got one oar in the water.  He’s 51 cards short of a full deck.”

            “He’s got a badge and gun,” I muttered.

            “He can’t give us a ticket for having too much fun,” Howard said.  “That does it!  I’m going right into the county courthouse and demand a jury trial on this one.  I mean, this is nuts.  We can’t take this lying down.  We’ll take this one all the way to the Supreme Court.  Too much fun, right!”

            “I thought he was kidding,” I said. “But he’s not kidding.”

            While we waited, I drank a quart of water and switched my bottles on the down tube to have a full one ready.  It was warm water, but quenched my thirst.  Darned if I could figure out what we had done to get this cop upset.  But I had learned never to argue with a police officer.  They enjoy absolute authority.  Minutes later, he walked up to us with two tickets in hand.

            “I know ya’ll think this is out of line,” he said. “But I don’t make the laws. I just enforce them.  By the way, I like riding bicycles, too.  How come you boys are riding mountain bikes with drop bars?”

            “They’re more durable and we don’t get many flat tires,” I said.  “They ride smoother.  Plus, we have three positions for our hands with drop bars.  Straight bars fatigue our hands by keeping them in one position.”

            “I’ll have to remember that,” he said.  “By the way, I live in Vicksburg.  Are you boys hungry?”

            “Yes, sir,” we replied, not understanding why he was so friendly when he had given us a ticket.

            “There’s a nice restaurant called Aunt Dorothy’s right after you cross the Mississippi,”   he said, after giving us our tickets and walking away.

            He drove toward Vicksburg.  I stood astride my bike looking at Howard who was just as incredulous as I was.

            “What in the heck just happened to us?” I asked.

            Howard looked down at his ticket and started laughing.

            “What’s so funny?” I asked.

            “Read it,” Howard said, laughing and slapping his thigh.

            On the ticket in long hand it read, “This is a citation to the Wooldridge brothers for having too much fun on their bicycle trip across America.  You can either pay a large fine down at the county courthouse or you can come over to my house (directions below) and take showers, plus eat my wife’s great cooking.  You’re welcome to stay overnight.  My kids would love to hear about some of your experiences.  It would be an honor and a pleasure to have you visit us.”

            “I’ll be danged,” I said.

            After riding into town that evening, we followed Officer Buford Jackson’s directions to his house.  We leaned our fully loaded touring bikes against the white railing on the front porch of an old southern home where a couple of rockers awaited for the evening sunset and friendly conversation.

            We knocked on the front door.

            When the door opened, I had never seen a wider smile, a bigger grin, a larger heart or a face so full of mirth and mischief as I saw on Buford Jackson at that moment.  Behind him, two little girls and a boy must have been told that their favorite movie star and his brother were coming to dinner.  Their faces reflected youthful expectation of something special about to happen in their lives.

            That evening, we ate a dinner set for a king.  Adeline Jackson was the perfect hostess.  We answered dozens of questions from the children named Shirley, Paula and Zach.  It was truly an evening of having too much fun.

            The next morning we pedaled onto the highway.  I was reminded again as I had been hundreds of times in the past, that people are beautiful.  Never assume you know what or who they are.  No matter what their color, religion, job, or location—people are unique, and mostly, they are doing the best they can with their lives.

Even with all the challenges going on in this society, it’s basically a generous, caring, respectful and decent nation.  I know we focus on the news every night because bad news travels fast.   But when you think of every little child who laughs or smiles at you, your life is blessed.  When you greet someone and pay them a compliment, you change the world.  When it’s returned to you, it changes your world.  

In the case of Buford and Adeline, our world became richer because we were smiling and having too much fun.  Howard and I thanked them for their generosity, humor and their children with bright eyes filled with expectation.  Most of the world is filled with people like Buford and Adeline.

I hope to get arrested many more times for having too much fun.

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