Not knowing where you're going can be scary. I have never liked to get in the car and have no idea where the final destination might be. Point A and point B are definitely two important parts of a trip. Especially when there is a specific time that you are supposed to be at point B. I also don’t like being lost. I never realized that I should enjoy the journey instead of worrying so much about point A and B. Until I got lost in the woods. It was early on a saturday morning. The sun wasn’t out yet, as usual. Our saturday fishing trips normally started pretty early in the spring. My mom was running around frantically trying to finish up her last minute packing of food for the day. “Riley! I can’t believe you ate that! I told you I bought that …show more content…
Surprisingly me, my girlfriend Abbey, sister Reese, and mom had made it all the way from point A to B without making one stop. That wasn’t normal for us. Usually at least one of us had to take a pee stop or something. We found a spot to park and then got out of the car eager for a day of fishing. The park was beautiful as normal. The trees were green, the water was clear and flowing hard, and it was nice and sunny outside. A perfect day for fishing. I guess I had made my assumption too soon. Not a whole lot of fish were caught that day. I caught a couple of small trout that were pretty easy to hook. Nobody else had had any luck either. Abbey thought she had hooked a big one but it was really just a rock. “I just got a bite from a huge fish!” Her line had broken off on the rock. I tried to tell her that it was just a rock but we ended up going with her story about the fish. After a couple of hours of disappointing fishing we got bored and started to look for new things to do. Me and Abbey decided to split off from my mom and sister and go to walk the trail at the park. It was a quarter mile long trail that went through the woods that I had walked many times before. What could go wrong, right? We confidently started to make our journey on the trail. We had no clue what we were getting ourselves
I never predicted this beautiful trip ending up as a nightmare in my existence. I drove for approximately 40 minutes and my partner shared the driving for an additional 40 minutes. We were driving my friend mom’s brand new Toyota Camry XLE; one of the most comfortable cars I had ever been in. We enjoyed the elongated ride with new hit music, and air conditioning set to an exact temperature that met our necessities. On the way to the beach some doubts about going there started to circle around our minds, but the fact that we were about half way there made them a...
To me, the drive felt like forever even though it was only 35 miles from Petoskey to Mackinaw City. As 10-year-old me sat in the back seat of my mom’s car, I remember repeatedly asking the question most parents dread to hear, “are we almost there?” Every time I asked she would shake her head in bemused frustration and respond, “you’ll know when we get there”. At the time, I was not sure what I was most excited for: the ride on the ferry, the big horses, the historical fort, the inevitable delicious ice cream; it all sounded whimsically amazing and I could not be more excited to arrive on Mackinac Island.
So we packed up some cloths and water and started on are bike ride. We were riding on a very muddy and rough trail we found a little creek that two or three people were fishing in so we checked it out and the continued are bike ride. A little further up the trail it was really muddy and my dad wrecked and face planted into the mud and again of course I have to get some pictures of that. My dad got all cleaned up and a little further up the trail there was another creek to fish out of so we tried fishing there for a little bit but we didn't catch anything. So we headed back down the trail and went to the other creek to fish and we caught four good size fish. We packed the fish up and headed back to are camp to clean them and cook
Many of the things I witnessed on my first trip to Lost Lake closely reflect primary interests in my life now. That smallmouth bass introduced me to one of my very favorite hobbies: fishing. I now go fishing at every possible opportunity. Unfortunately, central Illinois is not blessed with fishing lakes, so my fishing is limited to local farm ponds and creeks. I try to go fishing at least once a week.
Billy Thompson and Sam Westfield were similar in many ways. Since a young age they both has excelled at sports and both loved more then anything, the sport of football. While growing up, the boys did not know each other and probably thought they would never have too. But all of that changed with the diagnosis.
One day my mom told me we were going to visit her friend Peg”s farm. I didn’t feel like going out, but my mom insisted. So, we drove for 40 long minutes to this big farm out in the county.
Growing up as an only child I made out pretty well. You almost can’t help but be spoiled by your parents in some way. And I must admit that I enjoyed it; my own room, T.V., computer, stereo, all the material possessions that I had. But there was one event in my life that would change the way that I looked at these things and realized that you can’t take these things for granted and that’s not what life is about.
As the sun was rising from the horizon it started to warm us up, by the time we got to the oil rigs the sun way a pretty good distance into the sky. The clouds only lettings small slights of the sunshine through. Once we got to the rigs we began fishing for bait, using a steel leader with 10 small hooks and a lead weight at the end. We would be right next to the oil rigs casting the line next to the giant steel pillars that supported the rig. And with one reel in there would be approximately 6 mackerel stuck on the small hooks. I wouldn’t be lying if I told you catching the bait fish was more fun than the actual tuna.
A calm crisp breeze circled my body as I sat emerged in my thoughts, hopes, and memories. The rough bark on which I sat reminded me of the rough road many people have traveled, only to end with something no one in human form can contemplate.
Each of us had learned something from that trip. For me, this experience has taught me what gratitude is, the impact a good attitude has, what a servant looks like, and really how the relationships we make with our life are the most important aspect of life. It was the summer after my freshman year of high school. Earlier in the year, my parents had decided that they wanted to go on a mission trip as a family and serve somewhere.
Thumbs Out A girlfriend of mine once defended me to her father by saying, calmly, “Not everyone who wanders is lost.” The dad kicked me out of the house anyway. But the damage had been done. Not everyone who wanders is lost.
Fishing is one of my favorite hobbies for the uncertainty and excitement it brings to me. It was a cold morning in the month of June we began our journey. My family and I embark on our trip to go on a fishing trip to Iowa City.
My father parked the car, we all bundled up, and then we climbed out of the car. There was a lovely gift shop next to the congratulator Pike’s Peak sign. My family and I separated as we searched for souvenirs. After finding a shirt, keychain, or pocket knife we started off on a scavenger hunt to piece together the family. My mother was located in the bathroom, she had an overactive bladder and this trip, thankfully, was not too long for her. My sister was examining the gemstones found in the nearby mines. It took a decent amount of time before we found my brother and my father. However, when we found them it made sense why it took so long. The elevation was not being friendly with my brother and stole the majority of his oxygen. We hurriedly purchased the overpriced souvenirs and decided to head back down. Exiting the building we caught glimpse of the breathless view. My mother noticed that it was in alignment with the Pike’s Peak sign and decided that we should huddle together quickly for a photo. We had a stranger take the picture and we headed down the mountain. After careful review, we decided that it was the best photo that we have ever taken together; I still hold pride in it.
It was a bright sunny day. The sun had awoken and the moon had left. The aroma of the daisies and roses filled the air. Butterflies flew from rose to rose and from daisy to daisy. As I walked through through the garden I saw an old friend. She sat on the bench, that was near the water fountain, sadly and lonely. I walked over to her and asked her what her name was for it had been ages since I had spoken to her.
The morning started just as any other. I would wake to a bowl of cereal and then make a dashing escape out of the house to meet a friend. My friend’s and I all lived on the same block. Anything we had going on involved one of us. We were a very tight pack and never let anyone get in with the group without some sort of initiation. On this particular day, in the late September month, we had decided today that we were going to finally find out whether the stories were really true. The weather was perfect, not a cloud in sight. When all of us finally got together, we began our trip to the river.