Now that snow has melted away and I hike down the road for exercise, I decided to vary the view by seeing what has shown up in the ditches. Most interestingly, it was beer cans scattered vigorously along the stretch of less than half a mile I was inspecting.
Alongside the beer cans were the beer bottles and then the empties of hard liquor. All of these must have been tossed out the window of a whizzing vehicle. So one can only assume that their contents were consumed while the driver was at the wheel. It could be that only passengers indulged but one has to suspect not really.
I could have counted the beer cans but the number might have reached dozens. Some shiny new and others in various states of crumpled decay, indicating that this pitching practice has been going on for some time. Bud Light was a big favourite but Coors and Molsen Canadian were also strongly represented. Other beers, like Stella Artois and Lucky Lager joined the crowd along with assorted vodka spiked waters and flavoured sodas, indicating a wide range of tastes and refinement.
Curiously, the beer cans and bottles were punctuated with a many empty containers of Boost, the powerful nutritional drink designed to bring failing systems back from the brink. Less frequent, but also there, were cans from Red Bull and other caffeine blasted energy drinks. Combine enough Smirnoff, Boost and Red Bull and you might have a human torpedo behind the wheel.
This stretch of road is long, straight and uninhabited, the perfect place to pitch one’s empties and step on the gas. Sometimes my neighbour and I grit our teeth when a roaring engine hits the double curve by our houses, spewing up a great cloud of dust as sliding tires chew the shoulder. The pasture fence has multiple patches from vehicle encounters. Both ends of the metal driveway tiles are bashed in. The roadside survivalist oak tree bears a livid scar on its side. The ornamental pine in the yard grows at a drunken angle from being flattened when yet another speeder lost the pavement.
So, on my walks I stay far off to the side when I hear that telltale engine snarl. Though I haven’t actually seen anyone guzzling at the wheel, very suspicious evidence lies at my feet. The ditches tell me to take very good care indeed.
Bonus Finds: Someone’s socks and a microwave oven. No explanation.