Camping
"Hey, be careful and don't do anything stupid," my dad said to me right before I hopped into Chase Miller's dark blue Chevy S-10 with a camper shell on the back. I looked at Chase and Tyler Becker and said, "Let's go camping." As Chase pushed down the gas pedal, a big cloud of black smoke shot out of the back of the truck and the smell of burning motor oil filled the cab.
It was in July, and we wanted to go camping. I asked my dad if we could go up to our family's cabin in Elk Springs, which is near Montrose. He agreed, so Chase, Tyler and I, all sixteen years old, packed our stuff and were ready to go camping. With excitement, we jumped into Chase's truck, and took off to the woods.
It takes a good hour and forty-five minutes drive to get there from my house, and the drive gets a little boring. Chase's truck was full of junk. I found a roll of fishing line, and we got this bright idea to tie a piece of plastic to the end of the fishing line. I rolled down the window and threw out the plastic piece while holding on to the roll of fishing line. I let out more and more line, until the end was way out there. People would drive up to it and be confused, because they wouldn't see the fishing line, just the plastic piece.
Before I knew it, we were pulling up to the cabin. When we stopped, the first thing I did when I got out was take a deep breath. Then I said, "What do you guys want to do?" Chase just shrugged his shoulder.
Tyler suggested, "Let's take a hike." We all agreed to that, because it sounded fun.
As we were walking away from the cabin, I remembered that I brought a slingshot. I thought it would be fun to shoot rocks at stuff, so I suddenly said, "Wait for me. I have to get something." I ran to my bag, which was still in Chase's truck, and grabbed the slingshot. We took off into the woods. Every now and then we would stop, and Tyler and Chase would carve pointed sticks, and we would try to shoot birds, trees and other animals with rocks. We
It was in July, and we wanted to go camping. I asked my dad if we could go up to our family's cabin in Elk Springs, which is near Montrose. He agreed, so Chase, Tyler and I, all sixteen years old, packed our stuff and were ready to go camping. With excitement, we jumped into Chase's truck, and took off to the woods.
It takes a good hour and forty-five minutes drive to get there from my house, and the drive gets a little boring. Chase's truck was full of junk. I found a roll of fishing line, and we got this bright idea to tie a piece of plastic to the end of the fishing line. I rolled down the window and threw out the plastic piece while holding on to the roll of fishing line. I let out more and more line, until the end was way out there. People would drive up to it and be confused, because they wouldn't see the fishing line, just the plastic piece.
Before I knew it, we were pulling up to the cabin. When we stopped, the first thing I did when I got out was take a deep breath. Then I said, "What do you guys want to do?" Chase just shrugged his shoulder.
Tyler suggested, "Let's take a hike." We all agreed to that, because it sounded fun.
As we were walking away from the cabin, I remembered that I brought a slingshot. I thought it would be fun to shoot rocks at stuff, so I suddenly said, "Wait for me. I have to get something." I ran to my bag, which was still in Chase's truck, and grabbed the slingshot. We took off into the woods. Every now and then we would stop, and Tyler and Chase would carve pointed sticks, and we would try to shoot birds, trees and other animals with rocks. We