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The One That Got Away Ever since I was a little boy, my dad, my older brother, and I have gone to Canada on fishing excursions. This tradition started when I was 9 and my brother was 12. Just about every summer we would drive for 15 hours to Canada, and stay there for about 10 days. The first four times we set out on this trip, we drove in my grandpas 79’ Dodge, ‘Coachman Camper.’ This camper was very cool inside, equipped with a bathroom, stove, refrigerator, and microwave. But because it was so old and had been driven a lot of miles, it had some minor problems. The fuel, and the speedometer gauges only worked part of the time, and the engine burned oil. My dad always had to check the oil levels, so we did not blow the engine. I don’t know how, but the camper always seemed to survive the long drive to Canada. Luckily my dad was pretty handy and mechanically inclined, so we always felt safe. In my family, fishing has always been an activity that has been passed down through the generations. My brother and I were taught how to fish by my dad, and grandpa, and so was my dad, and his three brothers by their dad and grandfather. And some day I will teach my children how to fish, with my dad. My dad takes my brother and my