Garret W. Caltrider
Mr. Irwin Oltmanns
29 September 2017
On an early summer morning, I opened the door of the camper and allowed the brisk morning air to infiltrate the warm interior. Right behind me was my dad to accompany me and to make sure I don’t get myself in trouble. He handles some dry firewood that had been stored underneath the large vehicle to be kept away from the morning dew. I admire his every step as he kindles the bonfire in the desired fire ring just meters away from our living quarters.
About an hour passes of us admiring the flame and taking in the scenery of this beautiful morning sky of oranges, pinks, and yellows. A few sounds came from inside the camper and then the door had opened with my four-year-old brother on the other side. He grabs a chair and plops it in the wet grass right beside us two and tells us that the breakfast will be ready momentarily. We quickly discuss how today will go while eagerly waiting for breakfast to be ready until we finally hear “Food is ready” from Jill through the window. We rush into the camper to a smell of sizzling bacon and freshly fried eggs.
With our bellies full, we scurry out of the door and grab our fishing poles out of the back seat of the scorching truck from the sun shining in. Wayne, my father, carries most of it because he is a heavy set, muscular fellow that is able to carry a lot more weight than my little brother and I. Around five minutes later, we are required to climb a steep hill to get to a large, algae filled lake named Lake Anita. We dropped everything a long, narrow beige dock and began to attempt to cast past the moss and catch the big one. We only stayed for about an hour because we kept catching moss rather than fish, but still happened to catch a few largemouth bass.
As Dad, Grant, and I stroll along the natural, dirt trail, we hear a “Hey, you three. Help.” come from a young boy about my age named Spencer. He was shorter than normal and had short black hair and abundant freckles.
“What’s wrong?” Wayne asked.
“There’s a huge fish down here that needs water!” exclaimed Spencer.
“We’re coming,” Dad said while we slid down a mound of dirt and discovered a large grass carp that had floated downstream into too narrow of water. Wayne grabbed the carp by the gills and threw it up the hill feet by feet until we had all gotten to the beaten path and could carry a part of the fish each. After releasing it into the lake, we have observed that we were too late.
We had built up an appetite carrying the beast of a marine creature and decided that we should all, including Spencer, cook hot dogs over a flame that had been kept lit by the smoldering hot lumber from the morning of. We all eat and then sit around the fire quenching our thirst with ice cold water from the 15 gallon cooler adjacent to the camper door. After a while, both parents...