Love for the Wild

Andrew Klimok
February 20, 2007
English 121-006
Professor Thorn
Personal Narrative
Final Draft
Love for the Wild

I love the wild. I love the trees, rivers, lakes, mountains, animals and everything that abides. So here I am going to experience a time that shapes who I am and who I will always be, spending time in the wild its self. Andrew! Andrew! Wake up its four O clock my dad whispers shaking me awake ugguuuuaaaa I groan I don’t need four logs; my dad laughs quietly turning on the overhead light in my room. I jump with a start quenching my eyes as tight as I could to shut the light out and diving under the covers. Son get up your wasting time we don’t want to miss the action, you know they bite best when the sun rises. At this remark I get up and rub my eyes ok, ok I’m up. Forcing myself I get to my feet and stretch thinking what I should wear.
The day before I hear my dad telling my mom or more like asking her if she would let us go camping for the weekend. Just to get away from all this work and busyness it’s driving me nuts. There’s a pause and then both start laughing. Moments later I hear my dad calling Andrew!? I come to the kitchen trying my best to act like I don’t know why I’m being called and having a hard time keeping my excitement from going wild. We’re going camping tomorrow, mom lets! Yeehaaa! I notice the satisfied grin on her face from dad saying “mom lets”. So the rest of the evening we packed all of our gear we will need from the tent to all our fishing hooks and flies. While examining my pole, my dad asks, so where are we going to go? I know he says, answering his own question, our secret spot.
I shake my eyes bringing my self back to reality. Looking into the shelves of my dresser I grab my garments and put them on. I put on an extra pair of pants and a sweatshirt just in case it gets chilly like it usually does at ten thousand feet above sea level. But at the same time trying to take as little necessities as possible because the lighter I pack and the fewer things I have the faster I go. On the way upstairs I stop by the restroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I look at my self in the mirror and say out loud “this is going to be a blast”, I grab my pack shut the lights and climb the stairs. My dad has all the gear and the tent already in the car and “I hope we aren’t forgetting anything I say, aw we’ll survive he says with sarcasm in his voice”. After eating our slices of toast and drinking our tea we head out the door and begin the drive to the lake. We arrive at the spot where we have to park and hike to get to the lake. My dad pulls well onto the side of the road and puts the cardboard sign that reads IM NOT ABANDONED on the driver side window. We start our hike up the mountain loaded with our gear but giving it not much attention. Walking quietly we breath in the cool mountain air and fill ourselves with the beauty of the wild, being careful not to slip on the morning dew, loving every bit of life for the sake of what God created for us to enjoy. After a good three miles of climbing over rough terrain huge boulders and rock slides we top the ridge that overlooks the small lake shimmering in the morning sunlight, mosquitoes nipping the waters surface making rings shows memories of seeing a shampoo commercial. Standing there we hear a splash and at the moment notice a fine buck raise its head and shies into the thicket. We’re just in time I say leading the way down the hill.
The fish are hungry and we have what they want. So before doing anything we unload our packs where we will set camp and head to the water with our poles. The wheezing of or lines and the plunks of our bait makes me feel at home in a way, the sparrows swooping by inspecting the strange figures that have intruded into their world. And the cool breeze blowing in my face sends joy down my back. The morning catch is excellent young brook trout which will make a wonderful meal. While gutting and cleaning the fish my dad starts setting up camp about thirty yards off or so having a good view of the lake and the thick pines in the distance. I arrange all my belongings on one side of the tent and my dad arranges his on the other making sure everything is nice and neat. After all our setting and arranging is finished we do one of the things I like doing best and that is making a fire. I don’t know why but there was always something about making a fire that made me tingle inside like when watching a movie of surviving the winters in Alaska. Fires are used not only for keeping you warm but they are used for safety, cooking and even when alone just for a companion. There are certain rules for building a fire. First you have to have kindle which is something that will ignite easily such as cotton or dry shavings and leafs. You then have to add very small and dry twigs and leafs because kindle burns quickly and you don’t want it to burn out. Every time the fire is burning stronger you add bigger pieces of wood until you can set big chunks of wood that will burn for hours. Having the fire burning we wrap the fish individually in foil setting it almost atop the fire so it cooks the old fashioned way. While it’s baking I fill our pot with water and hold it above the fire waiting for it to boil. Aren’t your arms going to get tired my dad asks? Its ok I like the smell and warmth of fire and though it’s already warm the heat is comforting in its own way. The same way it feels comforting just being here in the first place. Every few minutes my dad gets up from reading his book and turns the fish so it cooks evenly. From my shirt pocket I get two packets of Lipton tea and put them in the pot just as the water starts to simmer at the bottom. Hungry as we are my dad finally says, “Well the fish is ready to be eaten”. We eat it just the way it is the natural way without any salt or spices and sip the sugarless tea after each swallow. A person could live off this I say with my mouth full, yea unless you swallow a bone and it stabs you then you’re in trouble. I close my eyes and think if life could get any better then this? Only in Heaven I tell my self.
Each in our own thoughts looking from the fire to the lake from the lake to the sky I think to my self how the first people or settlers felt that lived in the mountains? If they enjoyed the outdoors as much as I do. They lived out here, little cabins scattered all through the Front Range many of which still stand. How would it feel for me to live in those times? We come here to relax and to enjoy our selves while they on the other hand had to survive without everything that we have now. Many of them would envy us now and would love to drive cars and not have to worry about the coming winter. They enjoyed the wild but for sure in a different way that we do now. And it was a lot rougher than just sitting and enjoying fresh baked fish like what were doing now. We spent the rest of the day loafing around and as I said before relaxing, strumming the guitar and again filling ourselves with the beauty and nature of the wild. Night starts to fall and we again have a fresh batch of trout wrapped in foil cooking in the fire. While cleaning up the leftovers my dad says “hey look at the waters edge a raccoon is standing on a rock looking straight at us with four baby raccoons”. We enjoy their presence and then go back to our duties of cleaning up camp. Night falls quickly and in mere moments the world is dark with the stars just barely visible and of course the light from the fire lights and warms our camp. Watching the fire die out we crawl into the tent, snug ourselves into our sleeping bags, say good night and slowly I float away into my own dream world with the olden days on my mind.
The next morning I wake up to find the sun already shining high in the sky. I look at my watch and it’s already ten o clock. I’m bummed out knowing that just after lunch we will be leaving this wonderful place. As I stick my head out of the tent to step out I see my dad walking up the other slope opposite from our camp carrying the pan in both hands with something in it. I meet him half way what’d you find? I decided to go foraging and it proved successful. Berries! Wild berries! We washed them in the lake and filled the pan just enough that we could make some tea. No fish today I ask? Well I think we should eat the food we brought with us it will make going back easier. At those words my heart sank again. With all the enjoyment time went by like a fast train, its there then it’s gone. My dad seeing my disappointment said oh we’ll be back soon and don’t you miss home? Not yet. My dad laughs well I do and come on I’m starving. Eating the snacks we brought with us and trying to drink my dads berry tea we talk about the good time that we had and wishing it hadn’t ended so soon. But sometimes as the saying goes “good things don’t last”.
Slowly but surely we wrap up all our gear milking time just because every minute out here is like a lifetime. After all is packed we thank God for the wonderful time he gave us to spend out in the woods and slowly start our trek back the way we came stopping at the top of the ridge just to take one more look at the beauty and the serenity of Mother Nature. Thinking back this is who I am. I was born to love the wild and will all this last for not only my self but others to enjoy?