Masaw Trip To Mountain Washington Essay

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Seesaw Trip to Mountain Washington

The wind howled with frenzied madness through the rocky mountaintops six thousand feet upwards during a freezing Spring afternoon, it lashed without mercy at tourists, rock, and the bare vegetation left. The creamy milk hued rocks were cut into rough prisms, stacked amid each other as jenga pieces, left there purposely for no purpose. The newcomers swayed like seaweed dancing on the ocean floor to climb over the boulders under the tyranny of the gale, still, amateurs and experts flew up the slopes like mountain goats, unfaltered and experienced. I was not an amateur or an expert, and neither will be in the foreseeing future. My pessimism was not due to the overwhelming fear of investing effort to improve or the difficulty of becoming an expert but the unconscious fear of death from falling or becoming mashed potatoes from boulders. Then
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However, my climb on the first president was not my first adventure up the the unfazed tall beasts. The beasts stood unparalleled longer than any immortal tree or hundred year old infant tortoise, and many stood towering over skyscrapers silently, growing mold on their caps. I have climbed mountains that spurred above the cold cotton candy clouds as the Yellow Mountain Range of China, which towered as tall as Mount Washington, still most of its lush green trail paths are paved for easy climbing and convey the mountains humid weather, where bamboo stocks were amble like grass. On the other hand, Mount Washington was two steps more difficult from the usual stroll in the damp forest of the Fells of Winchester. Arguably, I frequented the Fells every month, if there was free time to burn, I cruised through the forest’s damp earth, toddling my way over roots and rugged pebbles. Above all else, I roved
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