NorthernRedneck
Well-known member
Every year since I was a child old enough to remember, my family went camping on remote crown land near a lake called Burroughs lake for the annual opening of walleye fishing.
I met this feisty American named Bobby from Michigan who was coming up every year with a group of Americans to go fishing. They stayed in the same pit as us. We were friendly with them. I was about 8 years old when I remember that feisty American, who was in a cast on his arm at the time, playing baseball with my brother and I. Eventually we ended up sharing the same fire pit at night where we'd share stories of fishing throughout the day.
Over the years there were less Americans coming up with the group until there was just Bobby left coming. He has now been up to fish every year for 65 years straight. We aren't counting the covid years.
Sadly, time doesn't stand still. Bobby came up this year again. He and I just sort of hit it off years ago and had a bond despite only seeing each other once a year. For years it was Dad Bobby and I going fishing together every spring. Dad passed away 4 years ago. Bobby still kept coming up.
This year we could see that time is not on our side as he struggled to do many of the things he used to do. To the point where he went to tie his minnow bucket to a tree on shore and fell down a 4 ft bank into the water hurting himself. I helped him up. I could see his frustration when he couldn't tie his own fishing line anymore and struggled to get in his boat from the shore. He was determined to make one final trip up the lake in his boat and I wasn't stopping him.
There were other things like his ability to back up a boat trailer was gone when he jacknifed his truck and boat backing up breaking his tail light.
The weather was cold and snowing on and off all weekend. We didn't get up the lake fishing but I decided to take him for one last drive down the bush roads in the area where we'd often drive for hours looking for firewood and exploring. He had wanted to get in to a little lake on the water and river system we fished for years. I knew of a smaller access road barely wide enough to my truck without rubbing branches that accessed the lake. The weather was crappy so instead of sitting in the camper we went for a drive and made it in as far as we could then walked down to the lake down the rest of the way.
Sadly Bobby is also starting to show the beginning stages of dementia. I spent most of the weekend trying to convince him that it was time to pass the torch on to the younger generation and kept reminding him that we love having him up every year but see him struggling more and more and are genuinely concerned about his safety as he makes the 12 hr drive to get here. Bobby is 82 years old now. I am 48. We have both come to terms with the fact that he have a strong bond that can't be broken. With tears in our eyes, we said ours goodbyes yesterday morning as he headed back home. As soon as he pulled out I burst into tears as I knew that was possibly the last time I would ever see him again. We made a commitment to call each other more often. I will miss him and cherish the times we spent together every year. Next year just won't be the same without him.
I met this feisty American named Bobby from Michigan who was coming up every year with a group of Americans to go fishing. They stayed in the same pit as us. We were friendly with them. I was about 8 years old when I remember that feisty American, who was in a cast on his arm at the time, playing baseball with my brother and I. Eventually we ended up sharing the same fire pit at night where we'd share stories of fishing throughout the day.
Over the years there were less Americans coming up with the group until there was just Bobby left coming. He has now been up to fish every year for 65 years straight. We aren't counting the covid years.
Sadly, time doesn't stand still. Bobby came up this year again. He and I just sort of hit it off years ago and had a bond despite only seeing each other once a year. For years it was Dad Bobby and I going fishing together every spring. Dad passed away 4 years ago. Bobby still kept coming up.
This year we could see that time is not on our side as he struggled to do many of the things he used to do. To the point where he went to tie his minnow bucket to a tree on shore and fell down a 4 ft bank into the water hurting himself. I helped him up. I could see his frustration when he couldn't tie his own fishing line anymore and struggled to get in his boat from the shore. He was determined to make one final trip up the lake in his boat and I wasn't stopping him.
There were other things like his ability to back up a boat trailer was gone when he jacknifed his truck and boat backing up breaking his tail light.
The weather was cold and snowing on and off all weekend. We didn't get up the lake fishing but I decided to take him for one last drive down the bush roads in the area where we'd often drive for hours looking for firewood and exploring. He had wanted to get in to a little lake on the water and river system we fished for years. I knew of a smaller access road barely wide enough to my truck without rubbing branches that accessed the lake. The weather was crappy so instead of sitting in the camper we went for a drive and made it in as far as we could then walked down to the lake down the rest of the way.
Sadly Bobby is also starting to show the beginning stages of dementia. I spent most of the weekend trying to convince him that it was time to pass the torch on to the younger generation and kept reminding him that we love having him up every year but see him struggling more and more and are genuinely concerned about his safety as he makes the 12 hr drive to get here. Bobby is 82 years old now. I am 48. We have both come to terms with the fact that he have a strong bond that can't be broken. With tears in our eyes, we said ours goodbyes yesterday morning as he headed back home. As soon as he pulled out I burst into tears as I knew that was possibly the last time I would ever see him again. We made a commitment to call each other more often. I will miss him and cherish the times we spent together every year. Next year just won't be the same without him.