Fishin' and campin' with them boyz

Jon is a great kid.

When my grandson Silas invited Jon to join us on a fishing and camping trip I couldn't have been more pleased. Silas is a great kid, too.

I knew they'd bring a sense of adventure, enthusiasm, laughter and just enough delightful mischief to keep each other busy. I wouldn't have to do much but direct traffic, pass out chores and enjoy my time with them.

Jon and Silas are both 13, and have known each other since they were babies. Their moms are best friends and their children, Jon and Silas' siblings, are growing up together.

When Silas was nine he expressed a wish to go camping and fishing with Grandpa Chuck. After seasons of delays and cancellations, that time finally came for Silas. I told him he could invite a friend and was delighted when he chose Jon.

A couple of years back I introduced Silas' family to Patrick McManus and Pat's boyhood idol, the old woodsman Rancid Crabtree. If you haven't yet discovered young Pat and the crusty old Rancid in McManus' writings, their adventures are hilarious. When I sent an itinerary and checklist to the boys' parents, I couldn't help but lapse into Rancid Crabtree mode:

"Fishin' an' Campin' with them boyz."

"I wuz planning on feedin them boyz sum flapjacks fer brekfus while we wuz campin' and I always kep a box of pancake mix handy in the camp box. When I got to repackin' and chasin' the hibernating critters outta the camp box and I noticed that the pancake mix felt like it had a brick inside. I looked at the expiration date and it said March of 2013. Serious, I ain't makin' this up. It's been around nearly as long as them boyz has. I throwed it away.'

"So fer brekfus I'll feed them boyz fresh hen fruit and pig meat an' maybe some spuds. And I'll maybe pick up some fresh pancake mix fer brekfus next day.'

"When I throwed out the rest of the stuff that didn't walk away on its own, that camp box was almost bare. I'll restock it with other stuff so them boyz don't starve or have their bellies explode from sumpthin' they ate.'

"I'll have camp chairs, 7 X 10 Coleman Olympic tent, a kite, fly tying gear, stuff like that. The idea is to make memories and have fun."

Jon arrived early. His dad brought him to the house and Silas' mom brought him to camp later. Silas missed the first evening's fishing, while John got off to a jump-start under my friend Mike Hansen's tutelage.

The following day the fishing started slow and when the weather turned flat-out hot, Silas announced, "I feel like jumping in the river."

That's all Jon needed. The boys took off in a flurry of giggles for a tall rock that jutted into the top of the long pool they were fishing, climbed it, jumped almost in unison and floated the 60-yard length of the pool before returning to camp and fly tying, kite flying and loafing until time for the evening hatch.

Before we set out for our final evening of fishing I told them where to find trout.

Jon, with his head-start from Mike the evening before, caught four that evening while Silas got an impromptu casting lesson. As I left him to practice, he yelped with excitement, "I've got one!" His fish was a good one - possibly the best of the trip, and he was super-excited until the fish went under a rock and broke him off.

"I looked for foam, current moving at walking speed, green water and edges," Silas reported, "I kept putting my fly in those spots."

Silas was learning. The fish will come later.

Over coffee the following day I found Silas making breakfast and Jon breaking camp. I mused, I couldn't ask for better camping companions.

We headed for a small wilderness stream. This was a golden time for the boys to explore on their own. They took off down a trail at a pace I couldn't match. I set up a camp chair and waited for them to return. They explored, found trout, lost a couple of flies and returned wet and with grins on their faces. On the ride home they talked of next time.

Grandpa Chuck? He got totally skunked, but really didn't care. Like them boyz, he was there to have fun and make memories.