Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Drive - A Memoir 86th Installment

We’d been tossing the fish into an old washtub and it was nearly full. We figured the washtub could hold about a hundred fish. Nearly all of the fish we caught were chubs, a few suckers, and only a couple trout.

Chapter 22
The only time we had another kid sleep over was the week that our cousin Victor stayed with our family when his father was hospitalized and taken to a hospital far way. His family lived in the city of Idaho Falls, and Victor was definitely a city kid. The day they brought him, he was wearing brown oxfords and a sweater. I’m not joking, a sweater! Looking dapper was new to us; we were, of course, in our work boots, jeans and flannels. He had a small suitcase in one hand and a rifle in the other, and upon seeing the rifle, we liked him immediately.

That night we were ‘chewing the fat’ recounting the day and reminiscing.

I really don’t like being an adult at 15 years old,” Russell was being more miserable about our upbringing.

I’m an old, over–worked man at fourteen but I like it.” I lectured. “It’s not like we’re in the city running with gangs all the night and sleeping all day. I feel bad for city kids. Besides, we have everything we need: food, security, and a nice house to live in; we’re only tormented by having to decide what more we would want! You know Alfred’s kids live on the side of a hill and each of them build a little lean-to built with sage brush in the summer and all 12 members of the family live in a two room shack in the winter.”

I hate you,” Russ groaned, “but I’ve got an idea; how about we sleep out on the hill like we’re camping. Remember when were a lot younger and dumber, and we decided to dig a hole, straight down until we hit water or at least broke through to China?”
 
Yeah, I do, and we were strange little kids.” We were digging one night after chores and supper; we worked so late and were so tired we just slept on the side of the hole. In the morning we started up digging again. Camping is always an adventure. That’s why I like camping so much!

One of the adventures we told Victor about that night was the time Russ and I got permission to go camping up by Tommy’s place, (Neil and Don’s dad) near the Sheep Experimental Station several miles north of Dubois. From there, Russ, Don, Neil and I planned a trek into the foothills, up into the Rocky Mountains, and to the top of the Continental Divide. We planned to look into Montana, come back into Idaho and stay a couple days. This was three or four years ago; Russ was twelve, Don and I were eleven and Neil was ten. We packed up a few

500 more words tomorrow
 

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