Descriptive Essay On A Trip To The Mountains

The first time I saw Mt. Rainier for myself, was last summer when my boyfriend and I drove to Washington. It was the most beautiful, peaceful looking mountain I have ever seen. However, underneath it's great beauty, it hides a deadly secret. Mt. Rainier is one of the most dangerous volcanoes that we have here in the United States. One of the reasons it is so dangerous is because of it's great beauty. People enjoy looking at it, and the area that surrounds it, so they have made their homes here. Mt Rainier is not the only volcano I am interested in, in fact this last summer I also went to Mt. St. Helens and Crater Lake. But it is the volcano I chose to research for this paper because it does have so much beauty and at the

8. Do you have sympathy or empathy for the wife of Don Elias, Dona Matilde?

The scenes journey along the Appalachian Trail captures the true magnificence and greatness of the eastern U.S. of wilderness. Starting in the Deep South at the foothills of the smoky mountains, this journey overwhelms one with southern beauty while also making one experience the South’s legendary simplicity and retreat from the urban gridlock of modern society. The Appalachian Trail’s scenery attracts many people from all over the world to witness it for them. Causing many people to come with their families and possibly volunteer.

We never drove farther west than Iowa. Going to Wyoming was something my brothers and I were looking forward too. Talking about all the activities we will be doing and places we will be stopping at made us more excited. It got me wishing we were going that day, but I knew we had to wait a couple a weeks. Waiting was the worst part of the trip. I could not focus on anything besides getting ready for the trip. As those long weeks came by we finally were packed to go. It was 4 a.m. and my parents were packing the car and telling us to bring everything out. We decided to take the minivan, so there was plenty of space. My older brother always got the back seats to himself so he had his bags back there with him. My

It was a normal winter morning. I woke up freezing my butt off. The night before we

The authors have two clearly different environments and describes them in diverse ways. Abbey writes about his surroundings as a bright, clear, calm April morning. He changed his description in the afternoon as “the wind begins to blow, raising dust and sand in funnel-shaped twisters that spin across that desert briefly, like dancers, and then collapse-elements under stress” (52). While Leopold writes about his experience with on a mountain as a “deep chesty ball echoes from rimrock to rimrock, rolls down the mountain, and fades into the far blackness of the night” (49).

As I pick up speed I feel the wind push harder and harder in the opposite direction, but my jacket breaks its bite. The reflection of the sun on the stark white snow makes the path ahead harder to see; my destination is still visible, its dead ahead. As I close in I have second thoughts but it's too late for that now. I lean forward to ride my edge and make a quick turn as I launch off of the jump which sends me into a spin until I'm facing my original direction, 360 degrees then my snowboard touches the ground again and I land it. Well, at least I planned on landing it. However, the reality of the situation was different, I ended up hitting the hard snow with my head and shoulder. That happened on my most recent skiing/snowboarding trip. I've been skiing for as long as I can remember but the past few trips I have snowboarded instead. Skiing and snowboarding are some of the things that I'm most passionate about, but the most important part is doing those things with my family and friends. So, get ready to learn some knowledge about me.

The ruckus from the bottom of the truck is unbearable, because of the noise and excessive shaking. As we slowly climbed the mountain road to reach our lovely cabin, it seemed almost impossible to reach the top, but every time we reached it safely. The rocks and deep potholes shook the truck and the people in it, like a paint mixer. Every window in the truck was rolled down so we could have some leverage to hold on and not loose our grip we needed so greatly. The fresh clean mountain air entered the truck; it smelt as if we were lost: nowhere close to home. It was a feeling of relief to get away from all the problems at home. The road was deeply covered with huge pines and baby aspen trees. Closely examining the

I looked up at the morning sky painted in hues of purple and pink. The crisp air tickled at my nose. I stood in front of the open passenger door of the truck while waiting for Jacob to give me further instructions. I found Jacob on one of those mountain-climbing adventure websites. He had the highest rating of all the Mountaineers featured.

It was a cold day, so cold that your arms start to sting as if a needle is impaling the surface of your skin. The wind applies a force which feels as if your face is oozing with thick crimson red blood. The gray puffy clouds covered the sky and dropped small snowflakes onto the road’s surface. A man stood there, freezing, clearing the coat of thick white snow from the concrete road. His nose runs with a river of snot that floods out when the cold wind strikes. His sense of smell is heavily clogged by the slimy snot, but he can still smell the scent of the steamy hot chocolate which sits on the top of his snow covered car. His feet start to numb because of the cold flood which soaks through his boots to his white, silky socks. His feet feel as if he stepped into the freezing cold ocean. As if he fell through ice and he was stuck standing there. The vast pile of the ice white snow feels almost like a quicksand around his black rubber boot. Foggy figures of people shovel the big piles of snow off the sidewalks. They scrape and pick at the glossy white ice which sticks to the sidewalk like a little boy clinging to his mother's side. His feet still sting as if he was stepping on pins and needles. His hands are damp with sweat from grasping the curved metal shaft attached to a socket which holds the blade. The blade cuts holes into the thick powdered snow which is removed from the endless pile. The jet black shovel is filled with slushy snow and crystal shards of ice. The end of

When the sun slowly peeps over the range of mountains, birds shake the morning dew off their feathers and give a cheerful song that would lift even the most sorrowful of spirits. A light fog wraps around the mountain range, reaching to touch every bit of life thriving there. The slight chill in the air is enough to give a gentle shiver, but not enough for the need of a jacket. A breeze tickles the trees, making their leaves shake and sway with laughter. Sunlight seeps in past the thick canopy of branches with hopes of being able to reach the damp mountain earth. The mountains are the best place to live to be relaxed, see the most beauty, and never get bored.

When arriving at Tumbledown Mountain, I was surrounded by brown and reddish leaves that were scattered on the ground. The trees around me were filled with luscious, vibrant, green leaves that enchanted my eyes. In addition to the leaves and trees, there was a lot of moss growing on tree stumps that looked like a small blanket covering an infant. Wild, white mushrooms were also growing out of the ground, which gave the ground a pop of color. Taking a step out of the car and onto the leaves, sounded like fire crackling at a camp fire. The sound of the leaves made the hairs on my arm stick up and filled my skin with small goose bumps. At first the smell of the woods was unfamiliar, but I soon got used to it and felt at ease. It felt like I was in my own fantasy where I could escape my troubles and focus on each little detail in the woods.

The sunless sky covered the woods over the treetops which created a canopy over my head. The crimson and auburn foliage was a magnificent sight, as this was the season known as Fall. There was a gentle breeze, creating the single sound of rustling leaves. The leaves appeared as though they were dying to fall out of the tree and join their companions on the forest floor. Together with pine needles and other flora the leaves formed a thick springy carpet for me to walk upon.

It is amazing how some experiences stay so crisp in my memory, that if I were to close my eyes, I could almost swear that I was there right at that moment. It's as if my body can almost taste the sweet air, feel the cold, wet breeze on my skin, and recall the scent of the pine trees towering above our heads. Hiking in Payson, Arizona, after a snow storm is one of the best places I have ever visited in order to collect one of these memories. Payson is a great place to take the family dog hiking, but also you will be able to appreciate the beautiful landscape Payson has to offer, with it being conveniently located just a brief drive from the sweltering heat of the Desert Valley.

We were in the middle of the desert, basically having no sense of direction whatsoever. Riding down the coastline of a twenty-mile island off the coast of Venezuela. Not knowing where to go was an issue but my brother, Ben, and I were on the ATV zooming through the desert seeing various attractions throughout the trip. Watching animals run everywhere, experiencing the views of little beaches with huge waves it was like a dream come true.