Brad at 16 sporting a "Mullet" and a Northern Pike
A friend of mine that has been blogging for a couple of years told me that the best blog stories come from real life experiences that have happened, that you may have left behind.... Here is a story that took place around 1975 to me and my wife and my two sons.
It was summer time and a vacation was what everyone had in mind. We lived in Scottsdale and had been here about a year or so from the Chicago area. Brad was about 2 1/2 and his older brother Stu was about 6. We decided to go camping in the mountains to Woods Canyon Lake. I was a part owner of a used car lot at that point in my career, so to take a camper for the excursion was just anticipated. The only one we had at the time was an old Datsun 4 cylinder pick up with a big cab-over camper attached to it. The four of us, along with our original "Bogie", a 150 LB Fawn male Great Dane climbed anxiously into our home for the next week, along with all of our camping gear, leaving Dutchess our female Dane at home, as she had just lost a pretty serious fight to a German Shepard.
The trip to the mountains took forever as we never took into account the weight we were pulling up those mountains. When we would finally get to a place where traffic could pass us, we'd pull over to the right and let them all pass. One by one they passed and put up their middle fingers to us, to let us know we were number 1 in their books! It seemed that no matter what gear I chose, I couldn't get that thing to go over 18 miles per hour up those damned mountains. We sure met a lot of people!
When we finally got there, we set up camp and started to relax a little after cracking open a few beers. Since the little camper wasn't big enough for all of us to sleep in, my wife along with the baby slept in the camper and Bogie, my older son and I slept in the tent I'd set up. Bogie not only has gas, but barked at every noise he heard keeping us up most of the night, even with the beers.
The following day, we got up early and enjoyed a camping breakfast. Nothing is better than a breakfast cooked over an open fire, truly. I made friends with the guy that was camping next to us and his family, a wife and a little girl. The guy, who claimed to own Danny's Car Wash, seemed nice enough and we decided to go fishing together. So I, along with Stuart, my older boy and Danny and his daughter went to the lake. I think we might have caught a fish or two, but after listening to Danny for a while, I seemed to think he might have worked at the car wash, but doubted that he owned it. Around noon we headed back to camp and to the women and Brad that were anxious to see what we'd caught. Brad was mesmerized by the fish that dangled from the line and started to tug at my pants leg. I looked down at Brad and asked what he wanted. He pointed to the fishing pole that leaned up against the camper and asked if this is what I killed the fish with? Suddenly it occurred to me, that if you don't know, you have to ask things! Bending down to Brad's height, I stopped whatever it was that I was doing and explained to him how fishing works. Whatever I told him, must have sunk in because he eventually became an avid fisherman.
Brad has his own boy now, just about the age that Brad was when we went fishing for the first time. I hope he teaches little Max to fish too!
A friend of mine that has been blogging for a couple of years told me that the best blog stories come from real life experiences that have happened, that you may have left behind.... Here is a story that took place around 1975 to me and my wife and my two sons. It was summer time and a vacation was what everyone had in mind. We lived in Scottsdale and had been here about a year or so from the Chicago area. Brad was about 2 1/2 and his older brother Stu was about 6. We decided to go camping in the mountains to Woods Canyon Lake. I was a part owner of a used car lot at that point in my career, so to take a camper for the excursion was just anticipated. The only one we had at the time was an old Datsun 4 cylinder pick up with a big cab-over camper attached to it. The four of us, along with our original "Bogie", a 150 LB Fawn male Great Dane climbed anxiously into our home for the next week, along with all of our camping gear, leaving Dutchess our female Dane at home, as she had just lost a pretty serious fight to a German Shepard.
The trip to the mountains took forever as we never took into account the weight we were pulling up those mountains. When we would finally get to a place where traffic could pass us, we'd pull over to the right and let them all pass. One by one they passed and put up their middle fingers to us, to let us know we were number 1 in their books! It seemed that no matter what gear I chose, I couldn't get that thing to go over 18 miles per hour up those damned mountains. We sure met a lot of people!
When we finally got there, we set up camp and started to relax a little after cracking open a few beers. Since the little camper wasn't big enough for all of us to sleep in, my wife along with the baby slept in the camper and Bogie, my older son and I slept in the tent I'd set up. Bogie not only has gas, but barked at every noise he heard keeping us up most of the night, even with the beers.
The following day, we got up early and enjoyed a camping breakfast. Nothing is better than a breakfast cooked over an open fire, truly. I made friends with the guy that was camping next to us and his family, a wife and a little girl. The guy, who claimed to own Danny's Car Wash, seemed nice enough and we decided to go fishing together. So I, along with Stuart, my older boy and Danny and his daughter went to the lake. I think we might have caught a fish or two, but after listening to Danny for a while, I seemed to think he might have worked at the car wash, but doubted that he owned it. Around noon we headed back to camp and to the women and Brad that were anxious to see what we'd caught. Brad was mesmerized by the fish that dangled from the line and started to tug at my pants leg. I looked down at Brad and asked what he wanted. He pointed to the fishing pole that leaned up against the camper and asked if this is what I killed the fish with? Suddenly it occurred to me, that if you don't know, you have to ask things! Bending down to Brad's height, I stopped whatever it was that I was doing and explained to him how fishing works. Whatever I told him, must have sunk in because he eventually became an avid fisherman.
Brad has his own boy now, just about the age that Brad was when we went fishing for the first time. I hope he teaches little Max to fish too!
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