Creative Writing: The Legend Of Windy Gorge

The Missouri River can be a wonderful yet terrible place. So much joy can be experienced from being on the river, but at the same time, so much destruction can happen. I have had both wonderful and terrible experiences on this river.

Pine needles and underbrush crunched underfoot as I climbed uphill on the mountainside. The forest canopy acted as a strainer, blocking all but the most lucky rays of sunlight. Sweat rappelled down my face and jumped off the tip of my nose, falling to the soft earth. My body commanded me to stop, to rest, to give up. For days I had already hiked and camped among the Blue Ridge Mountains with no sense of accomplishment, and I hungered for satisfaction. Rain and constant change in elevation broke my spirit, and encouraged me to go home. I felt as if nature itself taunted me, pushing me to give up. It became my worst enemy.

"Wake up, partners," the trail boss, James called. I sleepily looked up , shivered, and saw I was the only one not up. "Here," James said, giving me the horses' bridles and saddles. "Take these and get the horses ready. We have a long day today." I groaned in reply and set up the horses for the day's long drag. I was the horse wrangler and this was my everyday job but I still couldn't get use to the idea of waking up before the sun and working. We drove the cattle into open plains against the winter's cold wrath.

Grand Teton National Park is wonderful to visit any time of year, but Fall is my favorite. Autumn brings many wonderful things to the Tetons, but one thing it takes away are the large crowds of summer. Whew!

The castle kitchen counter was laden with a gigantic roasted goose, a perfect golden brown glistening with sauce, and long hot loaves of sourdough bread, plus an industrial-sized pitcher of grape Kool-Aid. For dessert there was blue cake and yellow ice cream. The smell of food made me temporarily forget my

Right in her own backyard, Everest finds a map in the forest. She runs back inside to inform Lio of her discoveries. They both follow the map through the forest. The map leads them to a very dark place in the woods. They look around with flashlights and then they hear a buzzing noise. There is a fairy. Her name is Dream. Dream spots Everest and Lio. They say, “Oh wow, who are you?” She responds, “I’m Dream the fairy.” Everest and Lio are slightly frightened. After a while, they get used to Dream and agree to learn about Dream and her world. She is a fairy who was sent out to retrieve the map that Everest and Lio had. She decides that she might as well take Lio and Everest to her world since they were so fascinated. Dream leads them to a

As I hack away at chest high buckthorn I glance into the distance to locate the opening I've been waiting for. Finally, I have forced my way through the dense brush and onto a ridge above the glistening waters of the Bighorn River. The glare of lethargically moving water stuns my eyes as I cautiously make my way down the bank and splash my face with a handful of water. While maneuvering myself across the river I struggle to stay on my feet. I push forward and locate a flat and clear area ideal for my campsite. I reach a relaxing stop underneath a willow tree to provide pleasing shade during these hot Montana months. The sun's slowly starts to disappear over the distance mountains as my eyes gaze into the majestic star filled Montana night

Hidden in the seclusion of the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, sits a tranquil pond blanketed in a sheet of fragile ice. From atop the limestone peaks, the glistening rays of the morning sun tint the mountain side a sunburnt orange. The sloped peaks of the rippled mountain side are covered in snow, like they have been dusted with icing sugar, and cast a foreboding shadow over the pond below. In the valley, the arid, yellowed grass has been suffocated by the thick layer of snow and ice, for the winter storm has hit hard this season and spring has arrived later than usual. Yet, beside the frozen pool, there lies a growth of bright, rich evergreens, their trunks rising towards the stars, and their branches extending to the shape of a cone. From them,

Two Rivers is a campground not too far from Sartell, I have been there countless times throughout my childhood. It is called two Rivers because the Mississippi River and the Platte River connect at a bay that surrounds the entire campground. The Platte River is much smaller than the Mississippi, which makes it popular to tub on, like a giant lazy river at a water park. Tubing on the River is one of the most popular activities, with that you can also canoe and kayak. Most years the water in low and slow with some rapids, but this year it was particularly fast.

mine employee, even though her silent stance against dating anyone from work resulted in slim pickings around town.

I can feel the warm breeze push against my face as I am travelling up the mountain. I can feel the sweat dripping down my face. A mountain lion roars in the distance. Trees become scarce as I continue up to the summit. I can smell the sweatiness of myself and the other backpackers as we scramble up the boulders. The dry air is tickling my taste buds, as oxygen becomes more difficult to obtain.

In that moment, their waitress appeared in front of the table, tray laden with their orders. “I have here the buttermilk pancakes-for you miss? And the French Toast-here you go sir. Am I missing anything? No?-”

Sitting touching the familiar worn benches beneath me, looking out seeing the familiar view, and getting that familiar feeling, I was home. Hume Lake Cristian Camps with its tranquil water stretching out, and the forest behind it stretching even farther. The silowate of the trees framing the lake, the view everyone longs for all summer was right there before us, welcoming us.

WHEN THYSTLE LEFT THE FALLEN Rose Inn, she told herself she just wanted a walk, some fresh air, and nothing more. She walked quickly, with her shoulders hunched inside her long, dark coat against the wind. She continued to pretend she had no destination in mind as her long legs carried her through Haven’s central square and market, both empty now. It was pure coincidence, a simple matter of geography, when a short time later she arrived on the other side of Haven, within a block of the Moulterwood Tavern.

There he is. The love of my life. Looking so handsome standing under the Jacaranda tree.The lavender flowers blooming and orange sky in the background made the scene look perfect.The orange sunset shimmering through the gaps of the branches radiating down on his gorgeous rich dark brown hair making it shine even more than it does. He is perfection.I notice his big brown innocent eyes peering at me for a few seconds then quickly looking the other way. Giving me chills down my arms, I know he is trying to hint at me to come to him. I shake the plastic bag that I am hiding behind me and he neighs with great joy. He knows it's his favourite- carrots. Divine River, aka ‘River’ my horse of three years. He is the horse everyone desires