Living at the cross roads of The Middle Of Nowhere and Redneck Territory, basically means that there is an over abundance of large trucks on over-sized tires with beds long enough to haul 4-wheelers or a handful of people, the males at my high school were no exception.
My friends and I thought nothing of riding around town in the back of an open truck bed – feeling the wind rip through our hair, our backs to the little sliding window along the back of the cab, country music blasting loudly. We rode that way to football games, bonfires, and sometimes just rambling down miles of dirt roads in the country on a weekend because there was nothing else to do. We were free of worries and responsibilities. If we were plagued with those they were soon forgotten in the wind, whipped from our minds and left to mingle in the open air with the faint strains of music we left in our path.
We’d lie on blankets in the bed of trucks parked out in fields watching the stars or dancing to the radio from opened car doors. On a warm fall night, after a football game, I even turned in my v-card in the back bed of a pick-up truck to the high school guy I thought I would love forever. My friends and I would ride around town having water balloon fights from the back end of trucks. We would have garbage bags full of water balloons as we raced up and down the town streets tossing our water grenades at friends in other trucks at the intersections and laughing until we cried when an unsuspecting bystander on the sidewalk would wind up on the receiving end of one of the water balloons.
I know it all sounds very small town cliché and it is, but those were the days of my teenage years. The days of carefree simplicity sprinkled with a very healthy dose of backwoods mischief and imagination that defined the girl I used to be at that moment in time.