The Mathis Ferry Road sidewalk shows its 26 year age. The roots of the big Oaks have heaved up its asphalt. There are gaps and broken places where road or utility work has obliterated part of it. Grass has broken through.

I and my son Jackson followed it home Saturday morning, hoping to beat the rain.

There is much to commend the worn path that winds along the road. The old Oaks provide shade. Their massive trunks give a sense of protection from the cars barreling down the road.

The Oaks were once much grander. On one side of the road, the trees stand, with half their crowns hacked off by the utility companies, uneven and distressing.

These trees were planted when this road was dirt and oyster shell. They allowed horses, mules and their passengers to travel free of the beating sun. It is a practical tradition going back to the roads of Rome.

Some highway planners see such trees as a hazard to the drunk or careless driver, an obstacle to speed. Applications to replace missing Oaks to shade future generations have been denied. We roast on linear deserts of molten asphalt like Highway 17 so drunks can drive them safely at seventy miles per hour at night.

The sidewalk brings you to Circle K. The people there are friendly and ready with a cold soda. Getting to the store requires sharing pavement with the darting automobiles on the busy corner. No sidewalks connect the store to the path along the road.

Jackson bargains for a drink and Cheetos. Thus fortified, we continue on.

It isn't a pretty day, but there are people in their yards along the way to meet and say hello to. A jogger bobs by about every 500 yards.

A woodworker has brought his refinishing project out onto his driveway. This sidewalk is a critical link in his life. After his wife passed away, he moved to a house a few doors from his parents so they could help him care for his two precious children. The children are further down the sidewalk at the playground with Grandma now, enjoying the narrowing time before the rain begins.

The next landmark is the busy County Branch Library. Children have beaten a path across the landscaping from the sidewalk. Like at the Circle K, there seems to have been little effort to connect the sidewalk along the road to the building. One still has to cut across a busy parking lot without benefit of a cross walk.

Publix is close, but the road to it has no sidewalks, vertical curbs or guarding trees. Impatient cars have cut off the bends meant to slow them down. It is neither a safe nor pleasant walk. We continue down Mathis Ferry road.

We pass a "Private Community." It has no guardhouse or gate to make this claim effective, only an unfriendly sign telling us it is off limits. The sidewalk is friendlier and we stay on it.

A six foot chain link fence separates our sidewalk from a nearly identical path within the "private community." These two paths run along side each other for one hundred yards. There the public sidewalk ends and the private one turns into the woods. Robert Frost advised us to pursue the road less traveled on, but the fence forces the opposite decision on us.

Without benefit of light or crosswalk, we must cross the road. We pick our time carefully and make a dash for it. On another day, when I am alone, a driver will yell obscenities out of his window because of his momentary fear that he might have to slow down. It is easy to yell at pedestrians when you are driving fifty miles an hour. Nobody we meet on the sidewalk yells at us.

There is a two hundred foot gap before the sidewalk picks up again on the road's opposite side. In a community where some claim nobody walks, a smooth path has been worn through the grass until it reaches the ribbon of lumpy asphalt again.

There is a new subdivision as we approach the last turn before home. No walks connect it's sidewalks to this one. The grass median and diagonal curb cuts seem to force the pedestrian along Mathis Ferry Road into traffic. Jackson and I avoid the traffic and tromp over the barriers. Perhaps the developers assume everyone coming or going to the homes they build will drive. Certainly, if the sidewalks end, they are more likely to do so.

The last few blocks are the easiest. There is nothing complicated about a good sidewalk and these blocks are lined with them. There is a grassy median several feet wide between sidewalk and street. The trees spaced along the median are young, but will grow to provide safety and shade. There is a five inch vertical curb to keep cars on the road. Every few blocks stands a bench or low wall on which to rest. Jackson can spread out his Cheetos, drink his soda and have a feast. While we feast, we chat with neighbors. These streets have bends, T shaped intersections and turns which slow traffic to a friendly pace.

Jackson and I spend almost an hour walking these last few blocks. These smooth, friendly sidewalks are busy places. There are people to talk to and new flowers in the yards to admire. We peek over the fences seeking signs of Spring. We aren't in a hurry anyway. When the rain begins, the hour and a half spent walking home will be remembered as the best time of the day.

Soon the Town of Mt. Pleasant will begin repairs on the old, worn sidewalk. You have to walk its length from Highway 17 to Highway 17 again to appreciate its deficiencies and possibilities. It is a walk worth taking to places worth going. If our avowed goal for this life's journey is to appreciate the people and nature around us, the short, slow trip down the Mathis Ferry Road sidewalk is better than most of the fast, long ones we drive.