Peaks Place Trail: A Short Story

This topic the Oregon Trail deals with all these people were looking for a better life or some freedom to practice their religion for themselves along with their families. Saw that they needed to move somewhere else and many of them decided to move west and take the Oregon trail or move to the state of California. Even though they knew it wasn't easy there was many trails that they had to go threw. They decided to take on that idea to leave for the Oregon trail.

On August 29, 1860, Loving and John Dawson started a herd of cattle to Denver to feed the gold miners. Loving sold his cattle for gold and tried to leave for Texas but since the civil war has broken out the Union authorities prevented him from returning to the south until he was told to. Loving was commissioned to take cattle to Confederate forces by Mississippi. Once the war ended they owed Loving between 100,000 and 250,000 dollars.

It was eleven o'clock of a Spring night in Florida. It was Sunday. Any other night, Delia Jones would have been in bed for two hours by this time. But she was a wash-woman, and Monday morning meant a great deal to her. So she collected the soiled clothes on Saturday when she returned the clean things. Sunday night after church, she sorted them and put the white things to soak. It saved her almost a half day's start. A great hamper in the bedroom held the clothes that she brought home. It was so much neater than a number of bundles lying around.

Before settlers began to move to Oregon it had already been inhabited. Native Americans lives in Oregon this was their homeland. With the Study of Oregon, anthropologists had come to the conclusion that as many as 180,000 natives had lived in Oregon long before Europeans began to arrive. Therefore as the Oregon Trail became more popular and more people pushed west it brought an uprising of conflicts between pioneers and Native Americans. This interest in the west began with in 1803.

“The paint on the outside of our barrack was cracked and chipped, and the front screen door was torn. Our outside toilet, which we shared with our neighbors, leaned to one side. The shed on the side of our house, where we took bathes in a round aluminum tube, was in need of repair, and the water was oily and foul-smelling like rotten eggs ”(Pg 68)

Starting from county road 550, drivers will take Junctions Creek road which is on county road 204, then they will take a right onto county road 205, which goes around Turtle Lake and then ¼ of a mile the road will turn left into Hidden Valley. Once in Hiding Valley drivers will see two different mountains one of the left and one of the right side of the road. On the left side is a mountain that has a white band of rock (figure 12). This is called the Wingate sandstone also known as the Wingate Formation. The Wingate Sandstone was deposited in the early Jurassic (figure 9a). The Wingate Formation is estimated to be approximately 200 million years old (United States, 2014). On the right side of the road the Wingate is seen at the top of a small mountain. Under the Wingate formation is the Chinle Formation. This formation is very recognizable based on the red color. Additionally, this formation was named by a geologist by the name of Herbert E. Gregory who studied at Yale University. He was the first to name and describe the upper Triassic including the Chinle Formation (figure 9b) (Uncompahgre, 2014).

She stares at herself in the mirror, examining every self inflicted scar from picking scabs. Her skin tone is grey and dull. Her hair has gotten oily and unkempt. She stopped caring about her looks and was not aware of it. There are age spots on her face that seem to have appeared over night. She touches her face and strokes the bags under her eyes with her finger tips. She looks now at what used to be a beautiful smile and cannot believe that her teeth have decayed, they are almost gone. It saddens her and she looks away. She feels ashamed of what she has become. She looks back at the mirror only to be looking into her eyes. With a hoarse voice she utters the words, “How did this happen?”

Ridge Run I return from exploring; my leg bleeds from slipping off the boardwalk. I push through the mob and get into place. I bend my knees and take a breath. The siren blares and the clattering feet of the crowd rumbles the ground. I keep pace, and jog the best I can.

Meredith Ford was never a hidden girl. She was always the most flamboyant in her class, always out shopping for the newest designer summer fashion line, always picking at her perfectly curled blonde hair with her manicured nails. She was always the one that wanted to show off her new dress, the loudest laugh in the room, the one that would take hours to get ready for an event. Although Meredith had just turned 26, she acted like a child, preferring to buy new glimmering outfits and stare into mirrors whenever they were around instead of acting her own age. When she did look into mirrors she fixated on her face, long enough that it didn't even seem like her face anymore.

In the whole wide world, there is no better activity than trekking Peru.  While a lot of Americans are under the impression is for a younger generation, the truth is that the hikes can be accomplished by just about any body that is in reasonably good health.  Certainly, the thing that even the most cynical person will admit is that the hiking on the Machu Picchu trail is among the treasured wonders of the world.  The thing that so many Americans are worried about is safety.  There is this giant misconception about what the country of Peru is like.  While the notion of the third world is prevalent among us educated in the public school system of the United States in the 80s and 90s, the truth is that there isn’t very much different between the countries in the

The “tents,” made of tin and tarp, are without light or electricity. In one such place near our operation, the “bathrooms” are a few dozen ramshackle port-a-johns, surrounded by discarded plastic bags. The citizens use the bags as toilet paper.

They were on their morning walk through the endless trails and old dirt paths that twisted and turned until you saw no end. The trails were covered with fresh snow stacked upon autumn’s forgotten leaves that were never bothered to be picked up. Walking into the woods, holding his gun with an old torn red flannel tee on, Jason has doubts that this might be his last season. Charlie was already climbing down the hillside, straying off the trails, and hoping of making the first kill to prove his worthiness to his owner. Jason calls back to Charlie, “Come ‘mere ol’ boy, don’t start without me!” and they begin their way quietly trudging through the dense woods to their special spot. They continue down the beaten path until Jason and Charlie come to a clearing in the woods where the only drops of sun come down through the dead leaves that have yet to fall. Here Jason pulls out a decaying tarp and sets up base camp. From camp, you can see all the rolling hillsides slope down into one large snake like river flowing through the mountains until it is lost in the distance. The Tennessee mountains are a treacherous terrain filled with steep drop offs and deadly trails. One can easily become lost and lose all sense of direction. Clutching his compass in one hand, Jason is prepared to stay the whole winter.

Amanda Wakes up and heads straight to the mirror. She looks at herself to see if she can feel better, but there isn't a day she feels like she's not pretty enough. Amanda thinks about the day before, when her mother told her to go out more, to go on a walk or a run, but she ignores, she ignores her mother's comment. Amanda gets ready and goes off to

On the first day of the semester, Leland Durley walked through the busy Ferguson Student Center. It was the beginning of his college career. Students in matching T-shirts surrounded tables covered in fliers and free items. The phrase “You Belong Here!” in bright red letters caught his attention. He scanned the crowded room only to see more signs with the same message. All of them advertised the same type of community: church.

By the end of the night, as various types of alcohol flowed freely through the blood of dancing teenagers, I noticed that one of my close friends looked pale. Before I could come back to her with a class of cold water she had taken a position in the washroom, spewing the remains of her dinner and vodka into the toilet bowl. The sound of her gagging, a wretched, slimy noise, almost made me want to partake in the act as well. Unfortunately, this was only the beginning of my disgust. As a party had been taking place in the vicinity, the floor of the washroom was revolting. A diverse collection of the dirt from the bottoms of partygoers shoes, vomit, pee, and whatever else made its way to the ground resided there. However, my friend didn’t seem