In addition to Carrie being my friend, her family was friends with my family. During the summer months our families would camp together. These trips were always full of fun. S’mores, stories, hikes, mud, and of course, fishing.
On this particular trip Carrie and I were 10 years old. One morning we decided to go fishing in the creek about ½ mile away from camp. We gathered our fishing equipment and headed out. While we should have noticed that the creek was less than two feet deep and there were no fish in sight, we did not and continued to cast and reel, cast and reel, cast and reel.
Soon, I realized that I needed to go to the bathroom. I HATE to go to the bathroom in the woods. Mainly because it is messy and I always stress about peeing on my clothing, but this was quickly turning into an emergency so I had no choice. Next to me on the bank, was a clump of willows with a rock that seemed to be placed for just this purpose. I set my pole down, pulled down my pants and sat on the rock (yes, my bare, 10 year old bum was actually on the rock—this was the only way at the time that I knew I could definitely keep my pants dry). When I finished, I stood up to pull up my pants and ran into a “snag” of sorts.
I had sat on my own fish hook.
I’ll say that again, a fish hook was hooked in my bum. My bare bum.
(This is the point when those of you who actually know me are thinking, “Only KaLee, this could only happen to KaLee”).
So there I am, standing in the middle of a group of willows, unable to pull my pants up all of the
way, and unable to get the hook out, because I couldn’t see it. Mortified, I didn’t really know the next step to take, so I carefully pulled my pants up so that I was modest and called Carrie over. I explained the situation and after she stopped laughing, she decided that she would try to get the hook out. (Oh, what a brave friend she was!)She was unsuccessful.
We then determined that this problem was going to require parental assistance so we headed back to camp the only way that seemed logical at the time. I walked in front and Carrie held the fishing pole and walked behind (why we didn’t think to break the line, I’ll never know). As we marched into camp, it quickly became obvious that no one was there and I became even more mortified (as if that was possible) at the thought of being stuck this way for any amount of time. Carried dropped me off in my parents’ trailer and then went searching.
This story does have a happy ending. My mom was not far from camp and successfully removed the hook.
And now, I always, ALWAYS know where the hook on the end of my fishing pole is. Lesson learned.
4 comments:
Oh KaLee that doesn't sound like fun. But I think we all have fun wilderness experiences, like the time I squatted in poison oak, yeah it was not comfortable for the next week or so, so I sorta feel your pain.
One time when we were hunting pine nuts in southern Utah, I sat on a cactus growing out of a rock (I was wearing short shorts) and GRAMMY had to pull the cactus prickles out of my bum.... I think my embarrassment was about as bad as yours, though my story doesn't involve peeing on a rock!
WOW - I like these stories you are remembering. Keep them coming! :) Ronnie & I used to have to pee in a coffee can while on vacation in the car. I'm sure there's something embarassing to be told about it, but since I was too little to remember much, I will leave it at that.
Oh my heck that is hilarious! I totally agree about going in the woods, not my thing at all but I guess in emergencies you do what you have to do!
Post a Comment