Swinging on the Vines

Scott, Luke, Samuel, and Benjamin stood on a steep hill in the woods on the northeastern corner of the Henning family farm. The hill they were on was quite steep. The three boys steadied themselves against a couple of trees as they looked out and absorbed the sight before them. 

The ground before and below them was covered in a thick layer of leaves that had accumulated unhindered for years. As they kicked at the ground underneath their feet, the leaves got smaller and damper until they reached the layer of peat and dirt underneath. It was early spring and the air was cool. The shaded area around them would be much more shaded in a few weeks when the trees above them were covered in bright green leaves. He air was clear and crisp but smelled a little heavy because of the moisture in the air around them and the damp leaves under their feet. The damp leaves added a unique quality to the smell of their environment. It was almost musty, but not quite. There was a sweetness to the odor that was hard to describe. 

The sounds of the woods were equally mesmerizing. The branches of the trees rustled and creaked as they were teased by the winds that buffeted the hills of the farm. The birds chirped and whistled in the trees. Squirrels scampered across the ground and up the trees where they ran across tree branches that the boys were certain were way to small to support the weight of the small animals. The puffy tails of the small rodents jerked from side to side in an effective attempt to maintain balance until the small creatures reached the ends of their branches where they leaped with apparent reckless abandon to other branches belonging to a different trees. Lager animals made fleeting appearances as well. A few white tailed deer wandered about on the opposite side of the wooded valley while evidence of other smaller animals was unmistakable in the cover of the forest floor.

Luke finally broke the silence.

“Well,” he began. “How about this one” 

He reached out and grabbed a thick scaly vine and looked to his older brother for confirmation of the wisdom of his choice. Scott walked forward, being careful to maintain his balance on the steep terrain, and firmly grasped the vine before him. He gave it a series of sharp tugs until he was reassured of the structural integrity of the wild grape vine.

“Yeah,” he nodded as he reached into his pocket for his hand-me-down Leatherman pocket knife. “I think this one will do nicely.”

He got down on his knees and began sawing away at the base of the vine with the saw blade of his multi-tool. It took him nearly a full minute to get through the two and a half inch thick vine. Finally, the vine broke free of it's own root. Benjamin caught the vine as Scott folded his knife up and returned it to it's rightful place in his pocket.

“Okay,” Samuel smile. “Who wants to give this thing a try first?”

“I think Scott should go first,” Luke stated confidently. “He's definitely the heaviest person here. If it holds him, it'll hold everyone.”

Scott looked at his prominent paunch with some embarrassment. In most cases, he might rush to defend himself against what he may have considered a 'fat joke.' However, in this case his weight had provided him with some advantage in that he got be the first one to swing on the vine. Of course, being the family vine tester definitely had it's risks. For instance, the vine they had chosen was about half way up a steep embankment. The projected path of the vine would swing the rider over the ravine in front of the boys so that, should the vine fail, the fall would be well over twenty feet and there was no telling how far down the embankment one would slide before coming to a stop. The stop was the most dangerous part of such a ride as it would most likely be the stout trunk of a tree that would provide the stopping power. 

“Welp,” Scott shrugged. “We didn't come all the way out here just for the scenery.”

He took the vine from his youngest cousin's hands and walked up the steep hill as far as the vine would allow. He firmly grasped the vine at chest level and inhaled deeply. He jumped from his spot on the hill and held on tightly as the ground dropped quickly out from underneath him. He looked down with wide eyes at the ground far below and gripped the vine tighter as the ride seemed to pause for a split second before swinging back to the hill. He dropped to the ground and slid to a stop with the vine still in hand.

“Wow!” he exclaimed to his companions. “That was cool! And a little scary...”

“But you made it!” Benjamin exclaimed. “And the vine held up just fine. Luke, you're next.”

“Wait, what?” Luke asked as he surveyed the valley below. “I mean, absolutely I'm next.”

He grabbed the vine and followed his older brother's example with equal success. His assessment of the experience was identical to that of his brother's: way cool and kinda scary. Samuel, the oldest of the Jonathan cousins went next.

“Okay, Ben,” He prompted. “It's your turn. Just hold on tight and don't look down.”

“But keep your eyes open 'cause you need to see to land,” Scott added.

“Right,” Benjamin nodded as he grabbed the vine with some apprehension. “I think I'm just going to start from here.”

He walked the vine about half as high up the hill as his older companions. He pulled himself up on the vine and swung away fro the hill. The vine returned him safely with a smooth landing.

“That wasn't so bad,” he nodded with relief. “Here you go, Scott. It's your turn.”

“Nah,” Scott responded. “You should go again. That was just half a ride.”

The four boys laughed as Benjamin accepted his cousin's offer to take another ride. This time he went a little farther up the hill and enjoyed a slightly more exhilarating ride. The boys took turns on the vine for almost an hour. They laughed at the excitement of swinging out over the deep ravine. 

Finally, they had enough and began the slow descent to the bottom of the ravine. The trip down was somewhat laborious. The trip up was easy. The boys just pushed from one tree to another, from one rock to the next, using both their arms and their legs to make their ascent. They had to be extremely careful of their footing because one misstep would send them sliding to the bottom leaving them with very little control over their direction of travel. To avoid this problem, the boys would pick a tree to aim towards and walk briskly until they more or less slammed against the trunk. They would stop for a moment to pick the next barrier to their descent and start again. This was the cycle, one tree to the next until Scott got tired of the slowness of their journey. 

He looked below him and saw that he had a clear path all the way to the bottom of the ravine. He sat on his rear, bit his fellow travelers adieu, and pushed of with both hands. He slid with increasing speed all the way to the bottom of the steep incline. He used his arms to balance himself as he slid until his rubber booted feet stuck in the mud at the bottom of the hill bringing his quick journey to a sudden stop. He pulled his feet out of the mud, taking a certain amount of joy in the sucking sound caused by the mud's hold on his boots. He stood to his feet and hopped across the small creek that ran along the bottom of the valley to a small sandbar of sorts. He turned back towards his brother and his cousins and proceeded to yell his assessment of the experience.

 

“Well, that was much faster,” he stated with excessive volume.

“It may have been faster but I'm not sure mom will appreciate what you just did to your pants,” Luke responded as he pointed at his older brother.

Scott instinctively felt the back of his pants and was surprised to feel his fingertips brush against the bare skin of the back of his thigh. He strained as he twisted his torso to get a good look at his pants and was dismayed to find a seven inch gash in his gray uniform pants.

“Oh well,” he said with as much confidence as he could project. “Good thing I wore work clothes. I still think it was worth it.”

The three boys on the hill shrugged their shoulders and followed their leader's example. They took turns sliding down the hill and found the experience to be quite enjoyable. Each boy checked his pants in turn to see if he had avoided Scott's fate. Though their mother's would most likely be frustrated by the dirt and leaf particles on their respective seats, Scott was indeed the only one to have experienced that particular wardrobe malfunction.

Scott shrugged his shoulders and turned towards the west incline of the ravine. He walked over to a small pool that was fed by a steady stream of water that flowed from a small hole in the side of the hill. The pool was actually a large cast iron pot that had been set into the ground by one of the previous Henning generations. Using both hands, Scott began to scoop the leaves and sediment out of the pot until the pot was completely empty except for water. The boys watched as the fresh water from the spring flowed into the pot. The water slowly went from dirty brown to crystal clear as the fresh water pushed the dirty water out. After a few minutes, Scott declared the water to be clean enough to drink. He placed one hand on either side of the pot and bent forward until his lips touched the cool clear surface of the water. He drank deeply of the fresh spring water until he had quenched his considerable thirst. He stood up and stepped aside so that his comrades could follow suit. 

“Well,” Scott declared after everyone had partaken of the spring water. “I suppose it's time to go back to the house. It's only a matter of time before we get a whistle.”

The other boys nodded and began the walked out of the woods. They followed the creek until they reached the edge of the woods. The spring sunshine greeted them as they left the woods behind.

“I'm glad we got to come up here for spring break,” Benjamin commented with contentment as the boys walked.

“Yeah,” Samuel agreed. “I miss the woods.” He looked at his older cousin and smiled. “Now we just gotta figure out what to do about those pants.”