We have been going to the same clay pit every may long weekend all of my life camping and fishing walleye at Burroughs lake in northwestern Ontario. My dad had been going there since he was a teenager. My grandfather brought him there. The pit we camped in was always full of Americans who came up every year as a group. Over the years, we became friends which grew into a life long friendship for one in particular.
I remember when I was about 6 or 7 years old, this feisty American jumped in and started playing baseball with my brother and I in that pit. It was always us and the Americans. Over the years less came until only one was left still coming. I remember that day playing baseball with Bobby. He worked in a factory in flint Michigan until he retired at age 51.
A little background on Bobby. He lives his life alone and simple. He loves the outdoors. It was this love that bonded us together. I remember as a child everyone around the fire pit chatting away after a great day of fishing and one by one they all went to bed until it was just Bobby and I. For years, it was Bobby, my dad, and I going mainly with whoever else in the family came. Dad passed away in 2021. Now, it's been just Bobby and I. Every year, I shed a tear
as he pulls away knowing that he is slowing down considerably and one of these years not too long from now, I will get that call at the beginning of May as he always does and he'll be almost in tears as he says he can't make the 12 hour trip up.
I'm now 46. He's now 81. He first started coming in 1961. We've been friends a very long time. We traveled to southern Ontario a couple years ago and decided to go through Michigan just so we could stop to see him. He is a great friend and will truly be missed when he can no longer come. And I know that day is coming as my wife and I had to nearly lift him into the boat. But as long as he can make it up, I will be there.
For comparison, this is a picture of my dad, me, my stepson who is now in his early 20s, and Bobby.