I gazed out the crystal clear window as we sped down the highway. We were going to fast for me to make out everything that was blowing passed us, but I was still able to make out shapes. Two trees, a telephone poll, an exit sign. The sun was beating down so much it was as if it had wanted revenge for something we had done to it. Even the car’s air conditioner on full blast was no match for the sun’s powerful rays. I could feel the beads of sweat racing down the side of my face, competing with one another too see which will reach the end first. When are we going to get… my Uncle cut my thought off short. “You ready to catch some big ones today!” he asked ecstatically. “You bet I am!” I responded with an equal amount of enthusiasm.

Around twenty minutes later, the car screeched to a stop. You could tell by the sound the brakes made that they needed to be looked at, but my Uncle was fond of the term, “If it is not broken, do not fix it.” I looked up and out of the windshield and in front of me was an enormous lake that seemed to stretch out for miles and miles on end. The greenish-blue water swayed back and forth and it was as though the lake was performing an intricate dance using its own tide. Wave after wave, each ripple seemed to follow one another in a synchronized fashion. The sun’s beams reflecting on the water created such a strong gleam, that it could blind anybody that stared at it for more than a few seconds. “You ready to get going?” my Uncle asked. “Yeah, I’m ready. Lets go,” I answered back.

I opened the door and hopped out of the passenger’s seat. I proceeded to the back of the car and opened the trunk. I grabbed the pole my Uncle had bought me for this special occasion. It was a shiny light blue fishing rod and it was the perfect size for me. My uncle grabbed his pole and the bait and closed the trunk. “Follow me, there’s a spot I know where we can set up,” my uncle murmured.

Along the walk towards the spot, I couldn’t help but admire the fishing pole my Uncle had given to me as a present. I loved fishing my entire life, and this was my first official pole that I could call my own. The fishing rod glimmered in the sun’s rays and its reflection of me was so perfect, it could have been mistaken as a mirror. With each step I took, the hook swung back and forth. It moved as if it was a child on a swing set, constantly swaying and never seeming to settle.

We finally arrived at the spot my Uncle was talking about. We dropped all the stuff we were carrying and headed down to the water. I couldn’t stop smiling, the excitement was glued to my face and there wasn’t anyway to get it off. I picked up my fishing pole and casted away. Now it was a waiting game. I sat there watching patiently and with every move the fishing rod made, I jumped up out of excitement and preparedness.

After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, my patience began to wear thin. “Why are they not biting today,” I asked in exasperation, “Are there even fish in this lake?” “Yes are there fish,” my Uncle responded in a clam voice, “But you need to have patience…” My uncle was cut off by the sound of the fishing line racing out towards the center of the lake. It looked as if it were moving at the speed of a racecar, and with each second we wasted the fish got further and further away.  “Go grab your pole!” my Uncle screamed in excitement. I ran over to my fishing pole picked it up and the battle began.

Reel it in, let of some slack, reel it in, let of some slack. I kept repeating this in my head in case I forgot. I was so anxious to catch a fish; I really did not want to screw this chance up. The fish put up a good fight, it never seemed to give up. You could see its tail splashing around in the water. Every one of its movements disrupting the lakes synchronized dance. “You almost got him!” My Uncle said encouragingly. My arms were starting to get tired and the sweat was building up on my face. With what appeared to be all the strength I had left, I started to reel in the line again. Reel it in, let of some slack, reel it in, let of some slack. Finally the fish was in front us. My uncle grabbed the net and scooped it out of the water. He handed it the net to me and I held it up in the air like I had just won a gold medal at the Olympics. The battle between boy and fish was over, and I emerged victorious.