Upon our arrival in Utah we discovered that cousin Ryan had been planning a fishing trip with Uncle Eric, and we decided to crash it. As in nearly the entire family. Ryan was nice enough to let us tag along. If you're a Vawdrey, and you want to go fishing, Uncle Eric is totally the family member to take you. He gets the worms and puts them on the hooks. He plans the trip. He even brings along those little donuts covered in powdered sugar that are so yummy and lets you eat some of them. He doesn't complain when you aren't quite ready to go bright and early at 6:30 am like you said you would be. He doesn't get mad when the two year old is sick and he has to go to the store and get medicine for him before you can go fishing. He doesn't mind it when the two year old and the three year old throw rocks into the water just feet from where you are fishing. I'm just saying that some people weren't quite as appreciative and understanding of the rock throwing of the younger crowd as others were and didn't want the rock throwers to come along. And despite the rock throwing, we still caught fish. Loads and loads of them. I think the final count was somewhere around fourteen or fifteen. There were also several that were thrown back. My personal theories are that the fish were attracted by the commotion caused by the rock throwing and came to investigate or that Sarah's incredibly bright and creative outfit was reflected across the entire lake and drew the fish in with its many varied patterns and colors. My first theory is backed up by the fact that we caught a ridiculous amount of fish despite the rock throwing. My second theory is supported by the fact that Sarah caught more fish than anyone else in attendance. We completed the morning with a picnic in the truck and ice cream for all, of course. In the end, everyone enjoyed the fishing fun-the real fisherman, the amateur fishermen and women, the rock throwers, the chaperones, and grandpa.
Upon our arrival in Utah we discovered that cousin Ryan had been planning a fishing trip with Uncle Eric, and we decided to crash it. As in nearly the entire family. Ryan was nice enough to let us tag along. If you're a Vawdrey, and you want to go fishing, Uncle Eric is totally the family member to take you. He gets the worms and puts them on the hooks. He plans the trip. He even brings along those little donuts covered in powdered sugar that are so yummy and lets you eat some of them. He doesn't complain when you aren't quite ready to go bright and early at 6:30 am like you said you would be. He doesn't get mad when the two year old is sick and he has to go to the store and get medicine for him before you can go fishing. He doesn't mind it when the two year old and the three year old throw rocks into the water just feet from where you are fishing. I'm just saying that some people weren't quite as appreciative and understanding of the rock throwing of the younger crowd as others were and didn't want the rock throwers to come along. And despite the rock throwing, we still caught fish. Loads and loads of them. I think the final count was somewhere around fourteen or fifteen. There were also several that were thrown back. My personal theories are that the fish were attracted by the commotion caused by the rock throwing and came to investigate or that Sarah's incredibly bright and creative outfit was reflected across the entire lake and drew the fish in with its many varied patterns and colors. My first theory is backed up by the fact that we caught a ridiculous amount of fish despite the rock throwing. My second theory is supported by the fact that Sarah caught more fish than anyone else in attendance. We completed the morning with a picnic in the truck and ice cream for all, of course. In the end, everyone enjoyed the fishing fun-the real fisherman, the amateur fishermen and women, the rock throwers, the chaperones, and grandpa.
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