My girlfriend and I took a drive up the pass of Snoqualmie the other day and it was absolutely spectacular!  The great state of Washington, for me, is the only place where I can do absolutely any outdoor activity or sport, by simply hopping in a car and toodling less than 2 to 3 hours in any direction.  Speaking of activities, our beautiful drive gave me pause to reflect on several really good memories that I had forgotten were there. 

          I was born in the country, raised all over the place, and gained a passion for camping and the outdoors from very early on.  I was sitting on the back of my own pony, Candy, from the time I was 2; growing into an accomplished rider, I might add. 

So, what do you think was going to happen when I had kids? I was camping with my baby in a front pack, and by the time my first daughter was 15 months old, I had her in a makeshift harness that I strapped to my chest, and we did a full on Poker Run (she only rode for tiny bits).  With the addition of each baby, I gained at least one dog, bunny or cat to build up our menagerie. 

My children became the most proficient campers, fishermaids, horseback riders, and pet owners known to man… Mamma is PROUD!!!  Of all our adventures, I have to say that fishing was foremost their favorite activity; they never even flinched at worms on hooks, or descaling, or even gutting, and let me tell you they would desolate a foil packet filled with garlic butter covered Rainbow Trout!

And so, without further ado, I will relate one such memory that came to mind as we drove through the mountains the other morning…

It was the North Cascades that drew us on that particular weekend.  There was a group of about 5 families, connected through the girls dad, that always gathered and planned for at least 4 or 5 trips a year.  I was so excited for this trip, as I had heard about the Rainbow trout in the area, so off we went in our Suburban, loaded down with kids, dogs, gear, food, and the like.  It so happened that our family drew the straw of arriving early and claiming space for the small village to arrive later in the day. 

Arrive early we did, and set about the campground to make ready the central cooking pit area where all the food would be served.  I was so excited about fishing, I was simply milling around the campfire spilling orders out to my minions, waving a rolled up magazine, ridiculously, as if I were the conductor of a symphony.  This isn’t the reason for my funny story, but I am telling it anyway since it makes me die laughing at myself. 

As I was standing there barking orders, I saw the biggest, furriest, and loudest Black Bumble Bee I have ever seen… In my life!  I saw this thing from all the way across the fire pit, as well as everybody else, due to the fact that it buzzed so loud… it was like slow motion. Keeping this in mind, I have written it out play by play… sorry … it only works this way…

I saw the bee slowly move toward me from across the pit

It just slowly advanced

I thought… it’s not gonna keep coming, nah…

Kept a comin … steadily advancing… like it knew me, or something…

All I had in my defense was a stupid rolled up magazine…

Don’t do it… I will swing mister…

It came for me… So I swung with all my might… smacking said bee right down my shirt… where the bugger stung me right in the chest… knocked me to my knees…

Did anyone come to my rescue, you might ask, nope… they were all rolling on the ground, laughing hysterically at what must have looked comical, to say the least.  Yes, I lived… duh… country born! This funny event set the tone for a hilarious camping weekend with friends, but I will take you to the favorite bit that I cherish.

My middle daughter, is the most like me in both character and nature, so she was our most skilled at this sport as she got older.  On this trip she was sporting a brand spanking new Barbie pole, that she was so so proud to use.  There she was that Saturday morning, out on the dock, with us big dogs and all our poles in the water; sitting in a tiny chair, holding on to her Barbie pole while patiently watching the little bobber out on the water. 

In the blink of an eye, she snagged a fish, and it yanked the pole straight out of her hands and out into the middle of the lake.  There it just floated around in a small circle, breaking my poor baby’s heart.  She just stood there quietly, with little tears falling down her cheeks, but trying so hard to be a big girl and not make a fuss. 

Forget her, we all lost our ju ju’s!  Absolutely outrageous!!  As we were looking around for a boat or something, our friend (an avid fisherman) simply took his pole out, and with practiced ease he cast out and full on hooked her pole, I kid you not!  He just slowly and methodically began to reel it in, with all of us cheering and laughing, totally forgetting our little Fisher maid momentarily, in all the fuss. 

As God is my witness, when he pulled the pole out of the water and handed it back to my princess, she reeled in a Rainbow Trout bigger than any we had already caught, or ever did catch that weekend. 

If I ever find the picture we took of her with her fish, I will replace it for the one I used that was my haul…