I decree that all roadwalkers should have a background check and be licensed before they are allowed to walk on the roads of Backroads.
Yesterday morning I headed to town for the weekly shopping. As I rounded a right-angle turn to the left, I had to slam on my brakes to keep from flattening three fisherboys. They were around 7th grade age, still lanky and not stocky, with fishing poles slung over their shoulders like so many hobo sticks bereft of red bandanas. I could not go around them, because in the oncoming lane was a dude on a 4-wheeler, stopped to talk to them.
4WDude motioned with his head for them to get over on his side. Out of my lane. They glanced past their bare-hooked hobo sticks at me. And laughed. While not moving out of the road. Yes, it is the end of civilization as we know it. Here was 4WDude, breaking the law by riding his off-road vehicle on the road, blocking said road, in fact, trying to school these fisherboys in proper pedestrian/vehicle etiquette. And they were having none of it.
Wake up, fisherboys! You are not Gordie, Vern, Chris, and Teddy, on a coming-of-age journey to Back Harlow Road to find the corpse of Ray Brower. There will be no miraculous camera tricks to save you like child stars on a train trestle with a smoking steam engine bearing down on you high above the Royal River. Do not scoff at Val and her trusty T-Hoe, but rejoice at the fact that anti-lock brakes come standard on such a vehicle.
4WDude gunned his four wheels and eased on down the road. The fisherboys moved into his lane, where at least they were facing traffic. Once they were done giving me scathing looks, of course. How dare I drive my vehicle on the road! While licensed!
I plan to operate the Official Roadwalkers Licensing Office out of my proposed handbasket factory. Take a number. I'll bet you can't wait to see your official license picture.