We packed up and drove to Richard’s parents in southern Calhoun. They live in a holler at least 30 minutes from any medical care, so I wasn't sure it was a good idea. It had also rained for several days and the holler often gets blocked after heavy rains. If I had an emergency, we couldn't get out and help couldn't get in.

The next day, Richard wanted to go for a 4-wheeler ride in a remote area where an old family cemetery rests (about 3-4 miles from the nearest home). He packed some medicine, water and other essentials and I finally agreed to go.

It was as far back in nowhere as you could possibly get. The road was so remote I wasn't sure we would ever get there. Eventually, at the top of the mountain, we came to a small white church with a fence surrounding a handful of headstones, most of them over Richard’s relatives from way back. Years ago, his grandfather used to gather 14 kids and walk several miles to this church for Sunday service. We took the fork in the road that looped to the right side of the church and parked near the cemetery.

I was just starting to feel relaxed when a stomach pain indicated I needed a restroom - fast. Richard said, "Go to the woods." I said, " I don't think so."

Off in the distance, completely surrounded by an overgrowth of thorns and nastiness, he spotted an old outhouse that obviously hadn't been used for decades.

He decided to make it usable for me. Again, I said I don't think so. I just knew that was a perfect snake hideout and I wasn't going to risk it. He insisted, and even cut me a pathway to the door. Inside, he cut away some more weeds, tore up an old T-shirt to sit on, and left the door open so I wouldn't feel alone. I still hesitated. It just didn't feel right. I think Daniel Boone was the last person to see the inside of that shack and it was just plain scary.

After much more prodding, I finally agreed to go in. I cautiously approached, scanned the inside, and even peeked down the hole. Nothing seemed to be breathing in there and my pains were getting stronger. I made Richard stand in front of me with his back turned and decided to finally sit down.

No sooner than I made impact, a pain shot through my backside - I felt something latch on. I screamed, tried to run and pull my pants up at the same time. I could feel the weight of it dangling from my rear and I knew what it was. I was sobbing and gasping and Richard turned around white as a sheet. If he hadn't been standing there to catch me, I would have fallen to the ground. It was a scene right out of a funniest video show and we probably would have won a fortune.

After a few feet, it let go and the weight lifted. Afraid to look back, I could feel what I knew was blood dripping. Richard came to my rescue and started laughing hysterically. I didn't think it was too funny. All I could think about were those doctors telling me to stay close to medical care and not do anything to trigger a reaction -- and here I was about to die from a snakebite on my rear in the middle of the woods in the middle of nowhere.

If the bite didn't kill me, the blood pressure would, or even worse, the stress would trigger a mast cell reaction. I just knew I was a goner. At least I was near a cemetery; they wouldn't have to carry me very far. For a moment, I was wondering if Richard had this planned all along.

If I could have, I would have decked him right there. When he finally calmed down from laughing enough to talk, he grabbed the perpetrator and held it up for me to see. It turned out to be a woody briar as big around as your finger about 3-4 feet long. The thorns were very large. It must have been growing under the toilet hole. When I sat down, it latched on, and when I got up to run, a few of the branches pulled out of the hole with me.

I have to admit that I cried and had the shakes for a good while. I don't know if I was more scared or embarrassed. Richard got me a bottle of water and I sat there on the ground until I calmed down. He asked me if we could do that again so he could get it on camera, and I told him where he could go.

He helped me up and we got back on the 4-wheelers to head home. When we followed the forked pathway on around the little church to the opposite side I spied something against the back wall I couldn't believe - an almost new outhouse, clean as a whistle. No weeds in sight, not a single briar blocking the door. I got off to take a closer look. Inside there was even a toilet ring, a nice vinyl floor and a couple rolls of toilet paper. But the urge wasn't there anymore. I just shook my head in disbelief and got back on.

Richard was laughing so hard at this point, his face was beet red and tears had formed in his eyes.

Like so many other decisions in our life, I couldn't help but wonder how different my day would have been if only we had taken the other fork in the road.

Hoping to simplify their lives, Kim Butler’s family recently returned to Calhoun County after 20 years near Charlotte, North Carolina. They spend their free time putting their old farm back together, keeping wildlife out of the house and honing their country skills. Contact Kim by email at kimbutler@frontiernet.net.