Beaver Creek Bridge - Where does it go?

Well I am no Huck Finn and my life was never like his but these old bridges bring back a lot of memories and stories that ought to be preserved.  So please send me your stories.

This bridge is straight west of Grainola on the first road outside of Grainola on your way to Neal and Sue McConaghy's house.  This bridge can take you to a lot of places and in fact is has taken a lot of folks all over the world.  Today I will tell you just a few of the places it took me.

It was the turn around point on hundreds of quail hunting trips with my brother Larry (above).  Just a side note he just retired from Clemson University where he built from scratch a Bull Research Center (not to be confused with my stories which some say are full of bull, just a joke).  He made us all proud being a Dr. of Cowology, just kidding on the cowology.  He really is a PhD (stands for Piled high and deep, just kidding again).  He just happens to be the smart one in the family and more than anything he always knew what he wanted to do and was very focused.  He lives in Barnwell, South Carolina.  Back to the story:  Those quail hunting trips were some of the best times and we never had hunting dogs unless you count me as the dog.  I never minded crawling up and down those creek banks trying to jump a few quail.

the rows of cut hay are called wind rows.

That old bridge was also where you could stand and shoot turtles for hours if you were not caught by dad and solicited to get back to helping on the farm.  The Beaver Creek Bridge was right next to several hundred acres of farm land that we leased from Aunt Helen Conner (now she really was not my aunt but that is what we called her and I loved her just like family - and she was family).  I remember one year we planted wheat and as we were getting it ready to plant maize we needed to burn off the straw.  Well we took off the straw spreader on the combine which caused the straw to be put it in wind rows like the hay in the picture above.  Now Dad had a fun idea and that was I took a two gallon can of gasoline and ran as fast as i could pouring gasoline on those rows.  As soon as I was done Dad and I lit the straw with gasoline.  Wow, it was so cool as the fire chased the rows of hay back and forth across the field.  Now don't go play with fire and matches.

That bridge was also the way to Tanny and Nanny Olsen's place (those names are real and they did marry each other and yes we are relatives even though we don't spell it the same so stop asking questions).  The great thing about that was as soon as you crossed the bridge you could turn right and go down to Spec Weaver/Don Conner's old place or Soup's fishing hole or on around to the the rest of the world.  But if you crossed the cattle guard and went straight west it was open range country (bet you don't know what a cattle guard is?  or open range country) you would cross another bridge that crossed over about a 5 acre pond.  It was known for its fish and I loved it when dad would take off and we would go fishing there.  One time we met some friends there that had fished all night using trotlines.  The had about 20 catfish and the smallest was 16 lbs.  From there you would pass the big round barn which looks like a setting moon when you are back east.  Then on past the limestone hills and on to the train trestle.  Now that was really cool because for years that is where the trains crossed and that is also how all the cattle were taken to Kansas City and beyond.

But one year as the train had already been shut down the Trestle was to be removed.  That trestle was where you tested your nerve.  I believe it was Jay Olsen who was the last person to walk across the trestle before it was blows down with dynamite.  The fear was always getting caught on the trestle and a train would be coming but as far as I know no one ever got caught on the trestle when a train came.  Anyway there was a big gathering as the dynamite was put in place.  It took hours for them to plant the dynamite and it was like a big party.  But that day when they lit the fuse and the many cases of dynamite blew the trestle never moved.  I did not get to see it fall but it was like a party with everyone parked there watching all day.  A day or two later it fell after more dynamite had been planted.  It was really a shame to see it gone.

Man I can think of forty-eleven stories about that bridge and where it has taken me and I look forward to telling you more.

What did I learn from that old bridge:

• That bridge can take you wherever you can imagine but you make the choice
• That bridge or any bridge can be your bridge to nowhere or anywhere
• A bridge allows you or me to "seize the day"
• I have been blessed by God and by that old bridge 

Thanks for your time,
gary@thepioneerman.com