While We Are Moving: Bouncin’ Barb

Today, I am so very excited.  Kristina (who is one of my favorite people) has asked me “Bouncin Barb” to be a guest blogger on her blog while she’s busy moving to the beautiful state of Colorado.  Having just moved myself a couple months ago I don’t envy her.  And I only moved 4 miles up the road from where I was!  She’s going 1/2 way across the US.  Still, I’m really honored to be here on her blog.  She’s a very multi-talented young lady whom I wished lived closer to me because I know she’s an amazing massage therapist.  And so Kristina, focus on moving today and leave the writing to me.  I’m looking forward to meeting some of your blogger friends here today and hope they will enjoy me enough to check out some of my other posts at “This and That (As I Bounce Thru Life)”

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When I was a young teenager of about 14 in the early 70’s, I discovered freedom when I got a new 10 speed bike.  My home life growing up in NJ was OK, but there was always hollering and shouting going on.  My parents arguing, or my mother and one of my brother’s getting into a hot disagreement.  My mother was a yeller. Plain and simple.  When she started in on me for doing something not to her liking, or not doing it  when she told me to at that very instant, I’d get it done and then take off on my bike. 

There was a county park about 3-4 miles from my house that was my escape.  In the winter, the pond would freeze over and we ice skated there.  There were picnic tables all over.  Swing sets for the little kids.  And a huge winding road that covered the grounds.  It was a big park.  In the summer there were free concerts.  There was a concession stand where you could get cold drinks or food in the summer.  There were bike trails that went through the woods and ran right alongside a gorgeous stream.   At one point the stream opened up wider to a big damn that was so fun to cross on a hot summer day.

Sticking out of the bank of that river was a big cement drainage pipe.  I used to park my bike up against a big tree and climb down the bank and sit on that pipe.  Sometimes for hours because I didn’t want to go home.  I smoked cigarette after cigarette, would get a cold soda and sit there stewing over how mad my mother would make me.  I’d sit there and talk to myself in my head and would think of the things I wanted to tell her but didn’t dare.  It was a shallow stream with a lot of rocks and it was so soothing and pleasing to watch the water run downstream and listen to the beautiful soothing sound of it running over the rocks.

When my first boyfriend was supposed to call me so we could hang out for the day and he didn’t, I would go there and sulk or cry.  All the times he broke my heart I ran to my spot.  I didn’t want anyone to know how hurt I was.  When my brothers would get on my case for something and I got tired of yelling back and forth at them, I would pedal my butt down to the park. 

Once I began smoking pot (hey, it was the 70’s people) I would go down there and pack a lunch (munchies) and sit there and solve all my problems.  Sometimes I’d even bring a paperback book that I stuck in the waistband of my jeans and would just sit there and read while the sun beat down on my face. I even took a nap or two there when the sun was hitting just right and making me sleepy.  It was the best! It was my little piece of heaven and no one was allowed there.  Not even my best friend K.  She and I would ride our bikes to the park if she was able to get out of the house but we went to other places.  That drainage pipe was mine. 

When I turned 15 and found my first serious boyfriend of 17 with a car, I stopped riding my bike.  Things changed in life and I matured quickly.  At 17 I left home and took off out west in what was to become my lifetime adventure (which you can read about in my very beginning posts) I found other “places” to do my thinking.  Yet none of them were ever as peaceful, energizing, and secretive as that drainage pipe. 



It looked very similar to this.  Sure wish I had a camera back then.

I would love to hear from some of you as to where your favorite spot was where you would go to get away or just relax.  Or what you may have done differently when you were in need of venting your anger.  Let me know.  Look forward to hearing from you.

Bouncin’ Barb