Effect Essay

Take the Shortcut

Just a few days into my summer vacation before my 6^th grade, year I decided to go fishing.  One of my friends from down the road was visiting at the time, and so we decided to hike out back for a while and see if there was a good spot on the brook to catch some fish.  Unfortunately that day there were no fish caught.  We walked and walked down along the brook looking for a good place to stop, but after about 10 minutes of thick brush we decided to turn back.  Too bad we didn’t just turn around.  For some reason I wanted to take a short cut.  I thought that if we looped around we could meet up with one of the field roads we had walked in on, saving us a few minutes.  To both of our surprise though, that decision to try and cut corners and not properly plan ahead landed the two of us in some hot water.  My poor planning got us lost in the woods, made a bunch of people drop everything they were doing to search for us, and in some heat at home.  If we had just turned back around and head along the brook we would have met up with the road and been home free.  But Nooooo.

        We were lost.  And it wasn’t nearly as fun as the TV show makes it seem.  Personally the worst part of it was that the both of us had shorts on.  And that made walking all of those 7 miles through the woods, with the brush and trees just about the worst. I still remember how bad it hurt when I got in the shower that night, and had all of those hundreds of tiny little scratches get agitated by the hot water.  The most embarrassing part of the whole ordeal though?, the fact that we walked for five miles (the majority of our travel) going parallel to the road.  If we had just turned right and followed it for a mile or so we would have met up with an old woods road and been able to navigate back to my house.  But instead we continued on our path, until a slightly delayed stroke of genius hit and I used a compass I found in my tackle box to point us in the right direction.  From there we were able to navigate back to the road and get picked up by some local passersby that were heading out to the lake. 

        When we went missing, It didn’t take long for everyone on the farm to know something was up.  We were all responsible kids, and the fact that we hadn’t checked in with an adult threw up a red flag early.  So the search was on.  It didn’t take long to spread either.  In the usual small town fashion it took no time at all to gather a group of willing volunteers.  They began looking through the woods on the back side of the farm near the brook we had started at, but there wasn’t much tell of where we had went from there.  (rule #1, leave a trail)  Luckily though they also sent out a few trucks to search the local roads.  And one of them went down the very woods road we had been travelling parallel too at just the right time to meet us.  We met the truck about three miles in on that woods road, and loaded up with them to get a lift out.  Being that far in it took us a little while to navigate back out to “civilization”.  And in that time I found the most peace during that day.  In the back of a Tahoe relaxing after an entire day of my anxiety telling me to worry, worry, worry.  My body was tired, my legs ached, and there was still going to be more in store for me when I returned home.  As we pulled down in closer to the searchers I saw how frantic everything was.  I saw the chaos that I had caused, the heartache, all because of that decision I made.

        Although we did return safely, we had still stirred up plenty of grief in our wake.  And after all of the happy hugs and kisses and thank you’s, came the punishment.  My parents have always been really down to earth people.  Kind and fair.  They knew what I had gone through and how taxing it was, and were sure I had learnt my lesson after a “talk” at home.  I punished myself in a way also, because earlier I had ended up leaving my fishing pole way out in the woods after about an hour of being lost so I wouldn’t have to carry it.   But I shouldn’t compare that to Taylor.  He didn’t get off the hook so lucky.  His father has always believed in a more memorable method to parenting, hoping to ensure Taylor wouldn’t ever repeat such behavior.  So Taylor spent the first month of his summer vacation being grounded to stay home, with no bicycle and limited TV.  All for getting lost in the woods because of his friend, isn’t life fair?

        I still kick myself for that short sighted decision.  But to this day though it is still a great reminder to think thoroughly about every decision before I choose.  “Look before you leap”.  It still stands as one of the most important life lessons I needed to learn.  And I did learn it.  I’ll never forget that day I got lost in the woods all because I was in a rush.  And I'm sure Taylor isn’t going to let it go anytime soon either.

             

Process Essay

Northern Cooking

        By no means am I a master chef, nope no culinary expertise here.  But for the most part I can hold my own in a kitchen.  As long as Emeril doesn’t show up…   But sometimes you don’t always get that perfect kitchen to cook in.  Sometimes you lose a lot of those comforts that you call “necessities” and are left with just some odds and ends to work with to make a meal.  Well that’s how camp cooking usually turns out in our neck of the woods.  We work with what we have, and knock on wood, haven’t been dissatisfied yet.  It’s really quite a feeling to come into a kitchen at camp, and see the food piled high that you just made; mounds of pancakes, home fries, eggs, bacon and sausage.  All prepared on a tiny wood stove in the corner of a cramped 10’x14’ room.  What could be better?  Well, if you really want to try, I can show you.  But you’re not going to like it.  I’ll take you from gathering supplies to getting the cook space prepped all the way to cooking and the finished product on the table.  Ready, Set, Go.

        First we have to gather whatever supplies we need.  Most of the time it’s whatever we can get our hands on.  Sort out what cooking utensils we might actually use, and make sure everything is clean. (By the way, dishes with no running water are REALLY fun to do.)  Every time, the selection seems to be different there.  Sometimes we can find everything we need, and others we’re forced to make some trips back out to town.  After a while though we get it sorted out.  A fry pan or two, maybe a few mixing bowls, assorted spoons, forks, knives and spatulas, all to help the cause.  Lastly there were measuring devices, cups and spoons.  Now where did we put those..??  Oh well, we didn’t need them anyway.  Instead I’ll just grab some plastic dixy cups, and start translating the recipe to ounces.  Does that look like about half to you?

        The woodstove did not start out as my preferential cooking heat surface, that’s for sure.  The prep time alone would turn most people away.  To start I have to get a nice even fire going and let it build up heat as it burns down to embers, preferably using a hard wood that has substantial density, but anything works.  Once I have a bed of embers to work with, I add two more medium size pieces of wood to maintain temperature for the following 20 minutes roughly.  I then add a small amount of wood more every 15 or 20 minutes until finished.  Now I'm ready to get cooking.  I load up all of my gear on a table beside the stove and prep to cook.  By this time it’s roughly 90-95F anywhere on that side of the kitchen, and right where I'm going to be for the next 40 minutes. (My favorite part)  Now when I actually got a chance to inspect it in detail, there really isn’t much cook-space on the top of the woodstove I was working with.  On that tiny little thing there’s barely enough room for a 13” cast-iron pan, and maybe another 5” one.  No chance for two 13 incher’s though, and too bad, they would easily half the time it takes me to do a standard quadruple batch of lemon zest buttermilk pancakes.

        Now comes the fun part.  Just me, two fry pans, a gallon of slightly lumpy pancake batter (from scratch), and 93 loving degrees all to myself.  That little stove may have seemed to be kicking off a lot of heat for the cabin, but as far as cooking went, things weren’t so great.  There was some trial and error, but I got the hang of it.  By the end of the weekend I gotten it down to a nearly a science.   Pour in; wait for bubbling after about two minutes, and then flip and seer on the other side until golden.  Just repeat 32 times and you’re finished!  I'm sure if you can master a full pan flip you could make some seriously big pancakes.  After the pancakes are done I just cycle cooking in the big pan the sausage and bacon.  Lastly I finish with a big egg scramble loaded up with veggies and cheese.  Also I made sure and kept everything covered with aluminum, because it took so long to cook everything, the pancakes would have been cold by the time the eggs were done!

        What an ordeal.  Although I have to say I'm getting better at it, and it can turn into fun after a while if you get some help.  And the reward is definitely worth it.  Getting to see those happy faces stuffing themselves on good food you worked on is great.  Even more so when you plan ahead and delegate dish duty to someone else!  Bella my Chessy doesn’t complain either, because there is never a short supply of leftovers when we cook at camp, plus she is always quick on the draw when she sees somebody spill on the floor. 

Example Essay

Beginning college is a new adventure for everyone.  It can lead to meeting new people, exploring new ideas, and even some pretty interesting new places.  My lifelong friend John and I moved down here from Aroostook County to try out the college experience about two or three years ago.  Since then we’ve been roommates through just about all of it, living in some pretty unique places.  We went from splitting a tiny efficiency apartment for about 6 months, all the way up to living in a huge 4 bedroom house for a year or so, and a few random spots in between. 

When John first moved in with me, I was living in a tiny little efficiency apartment over in Veazie.  The location was good, about half way between UMO and the Bangor Mall.  The commute from there wasn’t bad for me at all, unless you considered the amount of time it takes to drive through Orono when it’s busy.  The only complaint I had was the size.  The building I was living in had been remodeled from a hotel actually a few years back, and from the first time I saw it I, and anyone else I asked, could definitely tell that I was living in a redesigned hotel room.  Things were cramped there for quite a while, with me and all of my tools and projects that I was working on at the time.  Then I had to find a way to squeeze John in.  But we found a way to make it work and we did it for quite a while.  Although I do remember having to sleep on the couch a lot, for roughly the last two or three month’s straight living there.  Isn’t college great? 

From there we upgraded.  We had been stuck in a tiny little place for so long we declare the sky was the limit and started our search. We wanted a place that we could really spread our wings in.  We mulled over craigslist and newspapers for weeks on end, and finally found it.  It was a huge 4 bedroom house in the downtown area, right around Hollywood Slots.  There we had all the space we could ever want and it was still just the two of us.  The best way I can describe it would be to say it was just about a frat house.  It had huge open spaces, way too much testosterone, and frequent needs to repair damage that we had done.  Nothing could be better right?  Wrong.  Just as we were getting familiar with the place, winter started sneaking up on us.  (Winter isn’t very sneaky I know.)  The temperatures dropped, and heating oil was on the rise.  We realized about 5 months too late that even though the rent was relatively low on the house, it was going to take a fortune to heat the dang thing over the winter, especially just between the two of us.  We were left scrambling just a month before snowfall to find a new place.  Somewhere where we could actually afford to stay the winter and that meant sacrificing some of that glorious space.     

And here we are; our current residence.  This one seems to be the best choice we’ve made so far, leading me to believe we may have actually learned from our mistakes.  Who would have thought?  The new place a pretty good mix of all of the things we should have been looking for from the get go.  It’s a two bedroom house, with a sun room added on a few years back, giving us adequate space for two people.  It’s about half of the size of the large house, and almost four times the size of the efficiency.  It’s a much newer house that the large one we previously rented, with lots of upgrades added to increase its energy efficiency.  New windows and plenty of insulation means we don’t need to worry about heating nearly as must as we used to.  The electrical system could use a bit of updating from the 80’s, but other than that I don’t have any complaints, but I do still have my fingers crossed that my Xbox and TV don’t short circuit anything.

I moved down here thinking I knew it all, classic teenage invincibility complex.  But through a bit of trial and error we found ourselves a place to live that’s just about perfect for us.  If I had to go back and do it all again, I probably wouldn’t change much, other than to leave most of my things that I didn’t need right away in a storage locker.  Because over the last few years I think the biggest lesson that I learned, the lesson that I want to try and pass off to everyone I meet, is that moving is a PAIN-IN-THE-ASS.  And if you have to do it, make sure you get it right the first time, or else you’ll be stuck living out of cardboard boxes for months on end like me. 

Contrast Essay

During my childhood we always made it a point to go on family camping trips.  We would find a new national park near each destination we traveled to.  They stretched from Acadia in Bar Harbor all the way out to Mount Rainier National Park in Washington State.  We chose these trips because they suited our family, quiet, remote locations with relatively low population.  Call us woodsy if you’d like, but the air is a whole lot cleaner on the side of a mountain than it is behind a line of RV’s, and the view is quite a bit better too.  Later in life I was able to go along with friends on a few occasions to experience what others considered “family vacations”.  They tended to be big expensive trips to high population centers, Fryeburg Fair for example, and were quite the opposite from what I was used to.  Now I'm not saying family fun wasn’t had; it was just a bit of a different experience for me.

        Both types of trips can strain the family unit.  Some outdoor vacationing aspects can definitely help in my opinion though, much more than being squished into an RV with all those people on the more materialistic journeys.  On my family trips we always go camping for a few days and explore the park, trying to get a broad look at all it has to offer, and really just enjoy the amount of space we had at our fingertips.  We go out and hike or bike around on trails and end each day sitting around the campfire for supper.  They are truly family oriented vacations, and I love them.  On the other hand when I would accompany John’s family to the Fryeburg Fair, things were always more of a rush, almost hectic sometimes.  Lateness, distractions, and the general chaos of too much going on would sometimes plague the success of their family outings.  And I unfortunately had to find out some of it firsthand.   The stress of trying to do too much would sometimes put family members at odds with each other.  Varying opinions of what to do, where to eat, or when to be places were just some of the sparks that could start a blaze.  And those are just no good, because I was going to have to spend the rest of the trip cooped up in an RV with them, and there was just no room to vent anger in a place like that.

        Money, money, money.  Got to have the stuff, and got to spend it too.  For example whenever we would go to the Fryeburg Fair it was always the same routine.  Parents would give the kids their allowances for the day and then set them free on the world.  Free to spend on anything and everything you can at a fair.  And we sure found enough places to do so.  Deep fried dough, blooming onions, greasy burgers, the list trails on.  All of course with the usual fair price-rate hike applied, but it still seemed worth it.  And although delicious and appealing at purchase, that is just about where the beautiful story ended for the food.  My family’s experience on the other hand was quite different. At a National Park the only thing you can spend your money on were silly knick-knacks and bundles of firewood.  But that didn’t mean there wasn’t and good food to eat, my mother made sure of that. 

        Now I can’t justify standing up front and saying that our camping trips are better than any other trip, because we do still have our fair share of mishaps and accidents, but we deal with them as they come and choose to move on.  Now it’s not much fun when you have to be told what to do and when to do it by the weather, but we still seem to have a good time.  We are steadily on the watch for dark clouds on the horizon, those that may leave us damp and cold, or even worse without a dry place to sleep.  We’ve had a few times when Mother Nature told us to turn around and go home, but for the most part it only takes a night rest in a hotel to give us a fresh start.  Now rain, sleet, and snow may not affect the RV as much when parked at the Fryeburg Fair, but being over there isn’t always a picnic either.   Fussy city-raised neighbors to deal with, overpriced deep-fried foods to attempt to digest, and to many places for losing money than you can shake a stick at all can lead to some not so fond memories.

        I enjoy my time with my family, and I will always look back on our trips fondly, hoping for more in the future.  I was raised discovering these types of places, and hope to take my children on similar discoveries.  I value each and every time I get to go out and spend time with my family, as I'm sure everyone does when they reflect on the time they got to spend together, no matter the type of trip.  And I suppose that’s what it all comes down to, whether or not you come away from an experience positively.  It doesn’t really matter what type of trip you go on, what matters is that you try your best to have everyone there you care about, and to make it the best it can possibly be.