Sunday, August 4, 2019
The Land of 10,000 Lakes :: Personal Narrative Writing
The Land of 10,000 Lakes My favorite part about my Minnesota vacations were the fishing trips I went on with my dad. We would wake up very early in the morning, even before the sun was up. As the birds were just beginning their morning songs, I rolled over in bed, still half asleep. As the thoughts of heading out on the lake and catching fish entered my mind, I was quickly wide awake. I got up, and put on my favorite pair of jeans. These jeans have been through a lot, with holes in the knees and a long slit down the back of one leg. Next came my lucky Hinton football shirt that I wore every single time I went hunting or fishing. When we were dressed, we headed out to the kitchen and ate a quick breakfast of cold cereal. I loaded up the cooler for the day as my dad made us both some sandwiches. When everything was packed, we carried out our cooler, rods, bait, and tackle boxes down to the dock. The sky was just beginning to turn a light gray color, and all the trees were standing still. We filled up the boat with our fishing supplies, and I untied the ropes from the dock. The boat was white and blue on the outside, with a matching interior. The engine was always a little slow starting, but that morning it fired on the first try. On our way out to our favorite fishing place, all the houses along the lake were still dark. The boat ride to our spot was only about twenty minutes, but it was hard to drive fast in the predawn light. My dad taught me that the best time to catch fish in clear water was in low light hours, when the fish couldnââ¬â¢t see the boat. Only one other fisherman was out as early as us, but we both knew that more latecomers would be arriving with the light. Finally, we arrived at the spot where we loved to fish. Every year we went to the exact same place on the lake because this is where we have always caught the most fish. I always liked to sit in the back of the boat and fish straight out behind us. My dad went up front and controlled the trolling motor, pushing the boat perfectly over the drop-off where the walleyes liked to float and wait for food.
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