Of all the stupid things we did as kids under the guise of adventure, sewer

pipe exploration was undoubtedly the most idiotic.

Looking back on it, I can only think that at some point we must have ran out of

intelligent ways to amuse ourselves to stoop so low (if you'll pardon the pun)

as to crawl through sewer pipes.

It started innocently enough. On one of our expeditions through our neighborhood

woods, we came across a sewer pipe drain. It was under a old bridge that crossed

the stream that split the woods. The round opening was about three feet above

the stream and maybe four feet high. A trickle of brackish water flowed from the

concrete tube.

There were five of us in the woods that summer day; myself, my brother, and

three of our friends. After staring into the dark void for several minutes, it

was decided that two of us would venture into the hole while the other three

waited at the opening listening for screams.

I, along with a friend named Mike, volunteered to check it out. We were given a

couple of packs of matches, and, I believe, our last rites, then sent on our way.

Due to the confined space, we had scuttle crablike through the pipe, bent low at

the waist and crouching. For a time the brightness of the opening provided

enough light to see. After a while however, the pipe curved and we began to rely

on matches.

We realized rather quickly that the match as light idea was ill conceived. They

provided little illumination and only lasted a few seconds before burning a

couple of fingers. And,, as if that weren't bad enough, in the darkness, between

lightings, we would hear scurrying sounds and other weird noises.

At some point, after we had shuffled for some distance, Mike made an unfortunate

reference to a movie we had just seen called The Time Machine. In that movie, an

ugly race of humanoids named the Morlocks lived below ground and used sewer

pipes, similar to the one we were in, to get around.

I became certain that those hairy hunchbacked Morlocks were now all around us,

kept at bay by the tiny flickering flame of our shrinking match supply.

We decided to head back to the entrance as quickly as possible. As we got closer

to daylight and freedom, we began to smell something funny. It smelled as if

something was burning.

As we crawled nearing to the opening, the smell became more intense. Then we

began to see wispy smoke in the gloom when we lit a match.

We found out later that our friends left behind found themselves bored waiting

for our return. They decided to use the matches they had left to start a fire.

It was our misfortune that the fire they started was at the entrance of the

sewer pipe. As I said earlier, nobody ever accused our gang of being

intelligent.

When Mike and I realized that our exit was blocked, and that the smoke was

getting thicker, we had no choice but to turn around and shuffle back into the

darkness.

With our match supply dwindling, we traveled a good distance in the dark, using

our hands to guide us. The smoke had driven all thoughts of Morlocks out of our

heads. We simply wanted to survive to see the sun again.

We had traveled what seemed like a mile when suddenly we saw tiny streams of

light from above us. We had left much of the smoke behind us, but the acrid

burning smell was still in the air.

Several feet above us was a manhole cover. A rusty iron ladder set in the

concrete tube led up to it. We climbed up, I led the way, and, with all our

strength, pushed the heavy cover to the side. 

We had found ourselves in an alley of a neighborhood we didn't recognize. Some

kids, who were playing nearby, saw us emerge from the depths and were frightened

enough to run away screaming.

We had made it. We survived the smoke, the darkness, and maybe even the

Morlocks. We replaced the cover then tried to get our bearings. Mike and I

discovered that we were in a community several blocks from where we began.

We hiked back to the woods, sore, smokey, and pissed-off. As we neared our

departure point, we noticed that the guys had not only extinguished the fire,

but were, in fact, in a relative state of panic, thinking that they might have

accidentally  killed us.

They were much relieved (and a bit shocked) when we came upon them from the

opposite direction. Some angry words were spoken and I'm pretty sure that Mike

threw a punch at one of them. But before too long, all was forgiven and we

resumed our trek through the woods.