My Experience In My Life

We started our trip on June 3. It was about 7:30 in the morning when we had to start packing our bags into the car. Well it was more like a bus. We had rented a huge Ford SUV/truck for the trip, since the were seven of us going on the trip. So me my two step sisters, my mom, my step-dad, and my grandma got into the car and left. We were meeting my uncle at the hotel in South Dakota. It was going to be a long trip, two and a half days.

Have you ever been in a conversation where you have no clue what to say next. Have you ever been in a situation where you see someone you don't know and wanna talk to them but dont have the courage to say anything?

The last glimpses of the dark blue truck which my mother was driving in disappeared behind the trees, and we realized that we were truly on our own. My dad, older sister, and myself began our journey along the most difficult part of the Foothills Trail. This was our first backpacking trip, and I had a feeling that we were vastly unprepared for the task which was at hand. On the trail side was a sign which read: “Table Rock State Park-14.0 Miles”.

The second day of the hike helped me learn that I could accomplish hard things. The first day, Monday, had about four miles of trail to hike with no extreme ups or downs. Then came Tuesday, the longest day of the hike. On Tuesday, we had to hike about seventeen miles compared to four. Everyone had to wake up at the crack of dawn and be on the trail by 7:30. As we trekked along the trail, the brutal Arizona sun beated down on top of our heads. The hikers all became overcome with exhaustion and fatigue from the intense heat. As the day grew longer, I started to wonder if we would make it to camp before dark? Fortunately, the group made it safely to camp, however all of us filled

In August, I spent a week at Philmont Scout Ranch, a Boy Scout operated high-adventure base in the backcountry of New Mexico. Upon the start of my forty-two-mile trek, my crew and I left our cell phones and wallets at the base camp, as none of these would have any use in the middle of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. The relative solitude of hiking with just nine other members of my troop allowed me to truly take in the lovely sights surrounding me. One specific instance was on the last day of backpacking—when we were returning to the base camp. Before the monumental march back towards the hodgepodge of tents resembling civilization, we had to climb the stony monolith known as the Tooth of Time. This picturesque clump of rocks looks as it sounds: a big, rocky chomper jutting out from the surrounding sylvan mountains. From the base camp and a multitude of points throughout the hike, the Tooth seemed minuscule, but this perspective radically changed when I was scaling its side at a forty-five-degree angle. With a tinge of fear, I continued upward until I completely ascended the nine thousand and three foot peak. Atop this summit, a majestic panorama of land and sky pleasantly intruded my eyes. I realized how small I am compared to Mother Nature, making the incoming storm clouds and gusts of wind oddly humbling at the moment. To my surprise, the mountains moved

One year ago, I embarked on a week long expedition in the Mojave Desert of California. On the third day of the trip I decided to spend the night completely alone. As the sky burned with vibrant orange of the setting sun, I left my group with optimism and the prospect of adventure. The landscape was stark and unforgiving and without light my progress was slow. The further I went, the less I recognized but my stubborn resolve outweighed by intuition to turn back. As the sky continued to darken, the temperature dropped. The terrain only grew more challenging and my confidence completely vanished. I was lost.

So my mom and dad took days off their jobs for we could go. It was a Friday morning at 4:30am we packed all of our stuff and left. The way there was boring, until we got the see the big mountains, and landscapes we took a ton of photos. We started to see unique things that we have never seen before.

I remember the first hike I ever took. It was a real hot sunny Texas day. I was at Mineral Wells State Park and it was going to be an hour long hike. I could smell all kinds of flowers along the trail and feel sweat pouring down my back. We saw lots of nature, got good exercise and when we reached the top, I took a picture with my mom to celebrate that we had done it.

In April of 2012, I was ten years old and living in a loving, happy household in Southern Maryland. My family consisted of my mother, and my two older sisters, Rachel and Lauren. I was of course like every other typical ten year old; I loved to watch Nickelodeon, Disney Channel, hanging out with my friends, and to spend time with my family. I did not think much about boys the way my sisters usually did, but I knew that one day that I was to marry a boy because that is what seemed to be the only option growing up.

As I lay in the back seat of the car, asleep I start getting really annoyed by all the restroom breaks we have to take…...Cause I just want to get there. But as my mom always says, “a good adventure takes time to start, and an even better adventure is saddening to end.” But it’s not ending cause it hasn’t even started! That’s when I realized I was daydreaming, and when my cousin Olivia, and grandma woke me up I thought it was for another restroom break, but it wasn’t. . .

Throughout my life I have encountered many circumstances that have shaped me into the person I am today. I started life in a small house outside of Mackinaw, Illinois. I lived in that house for eleven years, and while I was there I became the oldest of four children. That in itself has been an experience, teaching me a lot about being an example and impacting my views on responsibility. I have a brother who, quite frankly, is the worst behaved kid I know. He lies, steals, and misbehaves compulsively. Academically he is not much better. He was held back in first grade due to a refusal to do homework, and has barely scraped by ever since, consistently getting D’s and F’s. Miraculously, he is now in eighth grade, but he still is not doing much better academically or behaviorally. He is actually very smart; he just refuses to do work which is why he fails. At home he fights with my younger brother and sister and pushes my patience to its limits constantly. Through it all there is a silver lining. He has taught me tolerance and patience. I have learned to deal with other people and annoyances through my experiences with Brock, and find that I am generally harder to anger than others. The lessons in patience that I have learned from Brock have helped me a lot in working with others, and have contributed greatly to my successes in academics, but no single person or experience has impacted my outlook on life as much as my Mom.

Life is a series of tests. The test varies by person and it all comes down to how well you take the test that you were given and chose to take. I was given the test of being the first in my family to ever apply for a college education because both my parents never had the opportunity and privilege to attend college due to their family obligations. Finally, I chose to undertake the only sport that could ever emulate the spirit of rugby, swimming, basketball, and wrestling in one: water polo.

When I was younger, I always found myself with a pencil and paper in my hand. I would leave a multitude of marks on the paper in some form or fashion, whether it be scribbles, repetitive words and sentences, my name, or the names of family members. Growing older, I would find myself writing more than enough when it came to essays. I could never bring myself to leave out any details and I rarely used simple sentences. Originally, I thought it was because I wanted the validation of my parents and teachers, but it was something else I had yet to realize. I liked writing and it hit me one day when I was in my room, listening to music.

I felt lost. I had no hope, motivation, or joy. After hitting a brick wall in my path towards graduating, I felt totally incapacitated. Suddenly, through the struggle and pain shone a tiny, fluffy, and cuddly beacon of light. Her name would eventually be Boogies. She brought a purpose back into my life. Her love filled a void in my heart that I could not have previously defined. My relationship with my cat has helped me regain ambition and a true excitement for life.

Day 60: W-why am I here? I’m not crazy… Besides, it’s not my fault, he still terrorizes me!