Favorite Fishing Place

The early morning has just begun, that time when the sun has not yet risen but the sky is changing from black to shades of blue. I make the twenty six mile journey arriving on the gravel road that takes me to my destination; I descend the last hill which is like the tallest point on a roller coaster. I pull into my spot up from the camper .I have now arrived at my most cherished of all favorite fishing places. The day awaits me and I am now on my way to get skunked, or to have a basket full of succulent fish for the afternoon meal.

Ethel Lake, which is by the railroad tracks on the Santa Fe Line. Every time I hear a train coming I get found memories of my Grandpa of when we use to fish back home on the Chickahominy River, in Virginia. He would come home after being on the rails for three days at a time and we would go fishing; Ethel Lake, by the tracks gives me pleasant memories of a long time ago. Every time a train rolls metal against metal I feel the vibration in the seat of my pants;  having spent forty hours a week on the Lake for five years the engineers’ always wave .I try to catch a fish and bring it out of the water as they pass by this can be a challenge I never know when I will have a fish on my favorite lure and line. Forty eight       acres of some of the best fishing I have ever have experienced. I get the boat ready putting the motor on, four rod and reels, two tackle boxes; I am in a hurry to get some alone fishing time before my Dad arrives. I push off the dock and now I am on my way to the beginning of a great day.

I have been on the lake now for two hours with twenty fish in the basket, not bad for a start. I see my Dad arrive in his minivan and he is making his way with his walker to the dock .This is the signal that he wants to fish today. It is because of my Dad that I am even here on this lake. He taught me how to fish here at the age of forty years old. I wonder is this going to be our last summer together or will

God give us just a few more. It gives me great joy to get Dad on the lake; I am always doing my best to point him at the best spots. I know he will want to go in after only an hour, yet that hour will be full of fond memories in the near future.

Now we are back on the dock and Dad is in his favorite chair enjoying the shade; thinking about the crappie he just caught. I clean the fish making boneless filets. I have the deep fryer ready to partake of the meal of our wonderful catch. I have now prepared a fish fry for two, we enjoy our catch together as we eat washing it down with a Dr. Pepper. We sit and talk about times from the past relatives dead and gone, but not forgotten. It is not only that the fishing is great it is the time with my Dad that makes this my most favorite fishing place. We talk of Grandpa often, he was a fisherman just like my Dad I guess on Ethel lake, I am a fisherman too.

Now that I have arrived at my favorite fishing place I find it hard to leave. The sound of the trains whistle is like an alarm that I must go to return to my obligations. I feel like Grandpa has been with us the whole time. I say my good bye to my Dad leaving just a little sad. I walk to my car and as I turn around Dad gives his usually hand wave goodbye. The car climbs the hill back to civilization the drive back to my flat is a time of introspection. I hope I will enjoy many more days catching fish on Ethel Lake, with Dad. However, I know that by being born we all will die, it is the living and loving that I experience that gives me joy.

Padhopper