Descriptive Essay On Mountain-Climbing Adventure

Most nights Wenatchee River looked eerily beautiful when the fog rolled over the fiery trees, but that night the mist clung uncomfortably to my skin and skewed the forest around me. I had to rely on the distant sound of chaotic whispers and a faint warm glow ahead of me. The

Trails of exhaust were propelled out of every single car in the bumper to bumper traffic, making the recirculation button a necessity. The dull roar of hundreds of people walking, talking, shouting, and blaring their car horns gradually blended into one unpleasant, continuous track that I was forced to listen to. Litter and cigarette butts pooled around gutters and lined the curbs, so I redirected my gaze upwards at the towering skyscrapers. I liked the view, so long as I kept my eyes above street level, and I supposed I liked the city, so long as I did not breathe in too deeply. I tried to appreciate nicer aspects of the busy city, but where I really wanted to be, was hiking somewhere in the mountains.

“Please trust me, when I tell you that I will take care of the mountainside. You must never tell anyone about it, not even your parents. Will you promise? You and I both know they would never believe you went up there and came back.”

At first, no one said a word; they only stared at Staring at her with a shocked expression on their face. Placing his hand over his mouth, Neal nickered, “You’re not hiking on Putney Mountain? That’s a crazy idea.”

“Ah, so nice of you to come on such short notice. We must get started. Here, follow me.”

The sun was glistening through the tall, swaying pines. To the right of the trail, a gentle river flowed softly down towards the mouth of the lake. Walking across the rickety wooden bridge, I inhaled a deep breath of refreshingly crisp mountain air. The sun beat down on me as I made my way across the bridge and back onto the well-used hiking trail. The ambient sounds of chirping birds, babbling water, and the croaks of several frogs filled my ears as I made my way around the bend. As I entered the mouth of the forest, I could see my father standing in the middle of the path, glancing upwards, taking in the beauty that had began to engulf us. “We better get going.” he said, looking back at me. “There’s still many miles to go.” I smiled and turned, taking in one last view of the beautiful creekside. Then, with determination, we set out to finish the challenging trek we had started.

They awoke the next day ready to trek on into the woods to find the legendary cabin that had been so widely talked about throughout school. With not the slightest bit of nervousness in their minds they walked, and played and enjoyed the fresh air of the Colorado forest. Some time had passed and he too stumbled across a treehouse. They thought it was strange that there be a tree house this deep into the woods where there was nearly no signs of human inhabitants at all, but Casey and Joe were curious to find out the mystery as to why such a structure existed, so they climbed up the

Finally, as I neared the center of the woods I noticed something. Just a few hundred feet before me was a waterfall stood among the thicket of trees and brush, nothing in comparison to niagara falls, but a waterfall none the less whose waters would eventually seep into the soft soil and help to fill one of two lakes at the center of Breakheart Reservation. Its waters were perfectly clean and pure. Wet from the small cascade of water, rocks shined in the minute amount of sun that was able to peek through the canopy above. Now this waterfall was, in most senses, relatively unimpressive. It was only about a measly six or seven feet tall and had only a small stream of water roughly falling down its side, but these characteristics were not what was amazing about the miniature falls. Walking through the woods, the thing that impressed me the most about this waterfall was that I have lived in Wakefield all of my life before this moment never noticed this little waterfall. Whenever I am in these woods I only ever focused on the negatives, the trash that is littered among , the forgotten merchandise that after years of rainfall and decay were now a haphazard tapestry of holes, and was thus blind to the beautiful things in those

“Well, hop on board,” Tucker said without hesitation. “I’ll have you there in a jiffy.”

Would you climb both dangerous sides of Mt. Everest at the age of 60? At the age of 60, it starts to get harder to do things very active or sporty. You would also start to get tired as you get older, so do you think you can do it? Well, Dr. Julio Bird did it. Dr. Julio Bird, one of the bravest souls to climb both sides of Mount Everest at 60 years old.

I wake up surrounded by wet trees that sparkle in the morning sunlight. A rapid river and a water fall rushes next to me. I pack my hammock and tarp away in my backpack and start hiking. At the bottom of the gorge it rains daily. Water that has collected on leaves soaks me as a walk down the trail. Today my pack and I hike to the peak of the next mountain. As I start walking the rain pours from the sky. I love hiking in the rain. The sound of water hitting the leaves and flowing down the mountain give me comfort as I start my accent. The blue color of my pack turns to brown as the dirt turns to mud. The 40 degree slope of the mountain combined with the flood of water flowing down the trail makes it almost impossible to stand up. After three hours I make it to the top of the mountain. I look down on the clouds in the gorge that fill the river and make the waterfalls. It is clear at the top of the

We packed our backpacks with the necessary gear for the day. “Hey, don't forget the GPS” Kevin said. “Oh yeah good call bro.” I said a little embarrassed that I had almost forgot it. We had finally gotten to the mountain and started our first big day out on the mountain.

Over the summer, my family and I drove up to Maine in order to visit my grandpa and relax. For the past couple of years, my dad and I have planned a few days to go hiking. We got into hiking a couple of years ago when we first discovered Tumbledown Mountain. After our first hike together, we were entranced by the beauty of nature and peacefulness that we were eager to plan more. This became a tradition because my dad and I rarely get to spend a lot of time together due to our busy schedules.

We humans are social animals. We normally prefer others around us and enjoy sharing experiences with others. In some situations, some of us like to experience the world alone. If the empty, open trail beckons you, then solo hiking might be what you’re looking for. There may be potential consequences when solo hiking which you need to be prepared to deal such as being prepared for solo hiking, and the dangers of solo hiking.

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.