Mission: Lost Snow

When our bus pulled up we hurried onto it. I didn’t exactly know what we were doing, but I was still excited because it was something new that I haven’t done before. The bus was soon full of people eager to go to the excursion. When our bus pulled off the highway to a small gravel parkway next to a river I wasn’t sure what to expect. There was a lady that met us as we got off the bus and led us toward a small shack and what looked like a meeting hall. She explained that the small shack, which was only about ten feet by ten feet on the sides, had housed four men for part of a winter when they were hunting and got lost. We passed by a cage, however I didn’t see any animals. The lady led us inside the bigger building to where a man was waiting. They served us hot chocolate and donuts before they began talking. After everyone had refreshments they began to explain that a lot of people in Alaska, especially in the backcountry, still had to hunt for every meal. They would go out for long periods at a time to get food to support their family because the nearest grocery store would be miles and miles away. They then spoke about the native wildlife of Alaska and showed us pelts of animals that they had killed or found. We were allowed to buy the pelts, though I would rather save my money for something else. After that we were escorted outside to the big enclosure. I now saw that there were two reindeer roaming around. We were given food to feed them with and when I

Suddenly my eyes flew open, the coldness slowly lingered away. My body felt warm. Almost as warm as how my mouth felt the last time I had sipped on my grandmother's tea. My grandmother always told me to have faith and to believe in the end everything would be alright. I felt the frigid saltwater against my skin. “Where am I?” I thought to myself. I couldn’t quite recall what had happened nor where I was. All that I could recall was hearing screams of innocent children and parents trying to comfort

I had survived the first part of the harsh weathers, I was hoping that it would be over before it was. I knew that I had no chance of survival. I hadn't eaten for six days, I had no water unless it rained, but then it would just freeze by he next day. I had been through so much and then then came the day were I knew I had to leave. It was early winters morning in this strange place that I had been, There were no noises but some faint wind from the few trees in sight. I stretched and got out of my tree to find something to eat like I did every morning, knowing I wouldn’t find anything, but then I thought I saw something in a bush. I had a rush of excitement wishing it would be food. Then I saw a blurred object approaching me, I blinked my eyes once or twice and then that blurred object wasn't blurry anymore. I saw something that I couldn't believe, It was a bunny! An actual bunny in the flesh! I slowly walked towards the creature, I could hear my stomach grumbling. When

When I woke up again from my deep sleep, I got re-dressed and headed out to my car. The snow was still deep as ever, the wind was still bitter, dry, and freezing cold. I warmed my car before I headed out and I headed back inside for a little while to wait for the car to heat. As I sat inside the warm and cozy house my mother warmed me to watch out for the thick spots of snow and ice because I could slide and crash into something. As I continued to sit in the warm house, I started to remember things my parents would tell me about people sliding off the road and going off the road. Of course I had the thought in my head that it would

However heart wrenching; the story is of finding hope for survival, throughout the biting cold,

A lone candle burns into the senseless night. Its wax trickling down its side. I stare at the clock and it is barely half past nine, yet time seems to stand still. I stare at the window and investigate the nasty mesmerizing blizzard falling outside my window. I could not grasp anything other than the snow. All I can do is moan as each passing second this bloody snow lingers and destroys my vision of a perfect Christmas, in which Santa would come and visit me in my sleep. At the time I was only four but I treasured Christmas and the snow surrounding it. Little did I know the damage that it would entail into my life.

Kneeling on the frozen snow nor feeling nor knowing what is beneath me?…. my cells are no longer responding… My body is shivering, begging me to stop…….My hands are pale as if my blood has frozen, barely moving, barely thinking, barely conscious. My glim of hope vanishing as I realise I won’t survive in this vast of white snow… Lost the sense of direction. How many days have I travelled? Believing in a glim that goes nowhere. Am I going insane? Not knowing the date nor the time nor someone to talk to but only myself. Only if my friend was here… What am I talking about his already dead. How did he die ? I can’t remember well? We were walking nearby a river hoping if we follow the current it may lead us to people,I heard a splash I turned my back and he was into the cold water, I helped him to get up but his foot got stuck into a puddle pulling his head under the water, he was struggling I tried to pull him towards me but I was too exhausted, as he was drowning I saw his face expression it gave me a

As I heard my alarm clock go off at two in the morning, feeling prepared mentally but not physically. My mind,at that point in time raced with thoughts and expectations, although my body felt like it wanted to die. Finally dragging myself out from under the soft covers, I pulled my gear to the bed of the truck and threw my bag up over the side of the truck's bed,-- hearing a giant thud from the heftiness of my pack. I felt mixed emotions coming from my body, my mind ready and my body said: “go back to bed hate you, I hate you, I hate you”. As soon as I plopped myself into the truck squished with three people in the back seat, after about five minutes of driving all three of us passed out fast asleep. The moment I woke, pulling into the parking lot of Mount Washington, New Hampshire I felt ready. When I stepped out of the car, I threw my hands in the air, the best feeling of stretching after a car ride. I look up to see this mountain completely covered with snow and only one round part completely treeless; that's where we hiked too. Strapping my fifty-pound pack on my back containing ski boots, skis, poles, winter gear, and food felt more tiring than it should have.

Unexpectedly, May was the cruelest month. I thought the snowy.mountain tops where beginning to melt off. I was wrong, and May had other plans. At lower altitudes it was rain, but above 10,000 feet it fell in the form of sticky, wet, snow. Winter was mild, letting on that Colorado would be passable by late spring, it was a hoax. Hikers formed into parties and attempted to hike on, only to be forced by the snow to turn around. We sat in town for days, twiddling our thumbs and pitching ideas around. On the forth day we came up with a solution. We stuffed a minivan with seven hikers and seven backpacks and headed to Wyoming. Our plan was to hike south, back to Colorado, connect our footsteps.

4 miles later I find some high ground to set up for the night. I realize the ground is still muddy from the rain a few days prior. Involuntarily, I look up at the storm clouds at the horizon. I swear they’re taunting me. While laying out the base of my tent, I notice a set of large tracks in the mud a few meters away. They are pointing in the direction I am headed. I think nothing of it and finish setting up my camp. I lay down in my tent to sleep lying awake for a few minutes still a little unsettled by the tracks I saw earlier. There is a flash and several seconds later thunder. The storm must be getting closer. Hopefully, it rains tonight and doesn’t interrupt my journey tomorrow. Another flash followed by thunder and then a light rain strikes my tent. Then a third flash and thunder. Then it occurs to me that I forgot to hang what little food I had left in a tree as to not attract any bears.I sit up and reach into my bag for the bear proof container in which I store my food in. Just as I lift up the container out of my bag there is another flash. Only this time against the wall of my tent I see the silhouette of a full grown

In 2004, the Vermont Association of Snow Travelers (VAST) requested a land use permit in order to open trails on state land. A meeting was held in the Vermont State Treasury building for the community to express opinions on the matter. My father and I attended in the hopes of keeping motorized vehicles off of state land. In protest we put a chainsaw in my school backpack and when it was our turn to speak, turned on the chainsaw, let it run for a minute and then ended by saying “It’s public land! We pay taxes! We should be able to do what we want!”. It was a drastic attempt to be heard after so many failures: speeches about health risks, environmental impacts and constant reminders of how much land has already been set aside for these vehicles. This experience was one of my first introductions to activism and the power of the people.

I just ran. Before I knew it, I was out of the trailer and walking back down the trail. That’s when the real fear set in, it’s strange how you feel so open and exposed walking on a trail. The trailer was sitting there it looked almost evil. I turned a corner and it disappeared out of sight. But the feeling of being followed remained. The trail was almost a trench carved in along a steep hill one side it sloped down and you could see a small pond. I began to visualize what could've happened. The different ways it could’ve ended. I wanted to go back and see if someone was really there, but I knew that would be a waste of time. I summed it up in my head as the wind pushing the door open. I still constantly turned back, looking over my shoulder to see if there was some truth to what I thought, if something was actually following me. It was a windy day out and as the wind the blew the trees would creak and crack. Branches fell off and slammed on the ground crashing down and taking other branches with it. The sound was amplified through the quiet and almost sleeping woods. It was strange, there were no animals, no squirrels or chipmunks. The woods were dead. I was still looking over my shoulder every now and again, still startled by what I had experienced. The walk took way longer than it should’ve. It felt like the seconds were minutes and no matter how fast I walked I couldn't keep up with the pace in my mind.

Hello, I am known as the Creature, and I am creating this paper to document what has happened after my supposed death. Humans believe that I was terminated from Earth after I drifted off into the ice cold ocean. It had been many days where I lay afloat, with absolutely no food supply or warmth. I was in solitude, and I knew that this was the end for me. Besides the frigid cold and the hypoglycemia, I finally felt happy with myself. I wouldn’t have to deal with the hostile and rude humans, I would go to a better place—a happier place. But, unfortunately, fate decided that I would stay on Earth, as I kept frozen for more than 200 years, preserved in the ice. I woke up to find myself on a granulated surface accompanied with an intense heat,

I looked up at the black sky. I hadn't intended to be out this late. The sun had set, and the empty road ahead had no streetlights. I knew I was in for a dark journey home. I had decided that by traveling through the forest would be the quickest way home. Minutes passed, yet it seemed like hours and days. The farther I traveled into the forest, the darker it seemed to get. I was very had to even take a breath due to the stifling air. The only sound familiar to me was the quickening beat of my own heart, which felt as though it was about to come through my chest. I began to whistled to take my mind off the eerie noises I was hearing. In this kind of darkness I was in, it was hard for me to believe that I could be

It was a frigid day in December. I wore so many clothes that I looked like a penguin. Every breath I took makes a small cloud and scattered. The gloves I worn seemed to be mildness like paws. The buildings behind me were covered by the thick snow. The wall became more brick-red because of the spotless white snow. Some snowflakes drift down on my hair gently. The snow was heavy, but not much wind. My friends bounced from worm house and laughed to me. “We should build a snowman. The snow is heavy enough.” One of my friends advised. We all cheered and started to pile the snow together.