Two big hearted river
Of the stories on the syllabus the one that I most closely related to was The Big Two-Hearted River by Earnest Hemmingway. During my first reading of this story it was the setting and the action of the main character Nick Adams that I connected with.
Reading the opening sentences, grand visions of my childhood danced through my head. The story took me back to happy times of summers spent alone with my grandfather in the mountains of West Virginia. Like Nick, the camping and fishing trips were a welcomed relief from the city life and school for me. Although we were in a different area of the country the wilderness seems to be the same. Like Nick I remembered being dropped off near the edge of the wilderness to hike in and go camping near the river. The river just showed through the trees (Hemingway 480). As with the main character the river always intrigued me as a child. It was many things such as the smell, the sound, and the being apart of nature that I liked. Most of all I really loved having the one on one time spent with my grandfather. Just as Hemmingway describes, we to would tromp through the mountains for what seemed like forever. We make the trek all in order to find that perfect spot to set up camp. I often felt as Nick did His muscles ached and the day was hot butfelt happy (Hemingway 468). When we came across that spot, a quote from the story says it best He was there, in the good place (Hemingway 471), and The river was there (Hemingway 467). A sense of happiness filled my body because I knew what was soon to come. We would set up the camp and get something to eat. I could feel Nicks pain of being very hungry (Hemingway 470); this was one of the down sides of the trip. My grandfather would not stop just to eat we would have to find are site then we would take a break for a quick snack before setting up camp. First we would survey the site and plan the best placement for our things. Hemingway wrote He pegged the sides out taut and drove the pegs deep (470), this passage brought flash backs of my grandfather telling me how important it was to get the lines tight and drive the tent pegs deep into the ground. We would then gather up rocks and small timber to build the campfire. A passage said, Over the fire he stuck a wire grill (Hemingway 471). This was not so easy with my grandfather. The stones would have to be placed in just the right fashion in order to support the grill. He was always very adamant about this and I would have more often than not done it more than once. As the day would be soon coming to a close we would sit and talk, I would learn and be happy. When nightfall came so did the bait. Nick wanted to catch grasshoppers for bait (Hemingway 473), I would do nothing of the sort. My bait of choice was night crawlers and hellgimites. I would dig and overturn stones, as my grandfather would sit like Nick Smoking, looking over the country Hemingway 468). My grandfather would peacefully just puff, puff, puff away on a Swishers Sweet cigar. He told me they were good to keep the bugs away. To this day when I get a hint of one of those cigars it brings back a bit of nostalgia for me. I would watch him and not fully understand just what he was doing until I was much older. When the time came we would craw in and bed down and out through the front of the tent he watched the glow of the fire (Hemingway 473). The fire seemed to put me into a trance of sorts. I would hear the popping and cracking of the logs, and like a child on the night before Christmas have that anxious feeling for morning to come. As the sun came up my grandfather would be out coking breakfast, The coffee boiled