Personal Narrative: Drop-In

Over and over we went up and down this mountain all day through the terrain waiting for the rails, and every time we reached them our skis would slip out from under us leaving us on the hard wet snow. When my brother Brendan came through and did everything so easily, it made me want to go back to our

Growing up with a father in the military, you move around a lot more than you would like to. I was born just east of St. Louis in a city called Shiloh in Illinois. When I was two years old my dad got the assignment to move to Hawaii. We spent seven great years in Hawaii, we had one of the greatest churches I have ever been to name New Hope. New Hope was a lot like Olivet's atmosphere, the people were always friendly and there always something to keep someone busy. I used to dance at church, I did hip-hop and interpretive dance, but you could never tell that from the way I look now.

I snapped back to reality as I wolfed down the last of my tasty hotdog, dreading what was next on the agenda. My family and I had been having a blast at the sugar bowl ski resort in Donner, and we had just finished up our lunch break. We are all pretty good skiers, however me being the youngest, I was the least experienced in my family. I had never Skied down a black diamond, and I didn’t want to.

One of these activities includes the alpine slide in Lutsen, MN. This half mile track will be sure to give anyone a thrill as they head down the twisty, turning course. Before you board the chairlift, taking you to the top, the alpine slide staff instructs you to break as you go down the slide around corners. As we listened, my dad’s uncle Roger whispers to the rest of the family, “there is no way they would design it where you could fly off of the track, so I’m not going to brake on the corners.” As Roger went down the Alpine slide, he went left then right, then zing, zing, zing and off into the woods he went. Thankfully, the only thing Roger hurt that day was his

It was a chilly Sunday afternoon with blue skies and all the makings for a good day of early season skiing on that fateful November afternoon. The day was winding down, the Broncos had just kicked off, and my friends and I had just leapt off the chairlift to embark on our last run of the day. All was well on the way down, a blur of orange jerseys rushing by as I sped down the mountain making the most of the last run of my day. Upon our final few turns of the afternoon, I found myself in a predicament that would later shape me into the person I am today.

My uncle Wade started up the cliff as the lead climber. His large arm length helping him reach better hand holds, his well-worn climbing boots giving him better grip, his strong muscles pulling him to better positions. As he climbed, he clipped his carabiners into the anchors hooked into the side of the cliff. He continued to scale the cliff, up and up, until he was about 80 feet up. Then he laced the rope through the final anchor, tied a cowbell at the top, and began rappelling back

It started on a chilly February morning at my church’s Youth Camp Retreat, called “Winter Blast”. My friends had tried to persuade me all morning to climb the two-story ropes course, in the barn at the top of the hill.

When you crash into a truck and your car flips over four times, usually you die. In my case I’m just in a coma, lying in a hospital bed. There are two problems with this. For starters, I’ve been in this coma since 2008 and it’s nearly 2016. The doctors say that pretty soon they’ll have to pull the plug on me because I’m not showing any signs of waking up any time soon. Apparently, I’m taking up a bed that could be used for some other sick kid. The second problem is that I’m not just lying half-conscious, but I’m in another world. This may sound crazy, but it’s true. When you become comatose your brain pulls a few strings and sends you to a lovely place called The Inbetween. The Inbetween is filled with people who are in situations similar to mine, but how they ended up like this could be different. The world is peaceful and everything until you realize the downside. When you wake up in the strange world, the first thing you notice is the bright blue tattoo embed onto your forearm. Every person here has a different one, and you can not leave until you find your match. This process could, unfortunately, take days, weeks, or even years. Sadly if your match dies before they can even get here, then you pass away as well. I have been stuck here for almost eight years and I’ve had no luck with finding my match. I wander around all day, greeting new people and asking them to have a peek at their ink and no one has

My dad and I have always loved playing basketball together. Not only do we enjoy playing the sport, we are also avid fans, especially of the Xavier Musketeers. The court (our driveway), is where we have the most fun competing against each other. I remember one game especially well. “Make it-take it or horse?” my dad asked. “Make it-take it!” I responded. Those were always our favorite options, but I’m partial to one on one, make it take it. I was about 10 years old at the time and had managed to keep the game tied at 14 points. I had the ball with only 6 points to go. I was determined to get a quick layup, mainly because I knew I couldn’t lose the momentum which was so crucial in make it-take it. Despite my effort driving to the basket, I missed and he rebounded the ball. He retreated and shot a three. As I had feared, he made it easily. The score was 17-14, his ball again. I could feel the game slipping away from my control and played my best defense. I checked the ball back to him and right as it touched his hands, it left his hands. He shot a three from the same exact spot, with the same exact outcome, a perfect swoosh. I had lost. “Play again?” I

¨Twenty seconds of insane courage and I promise, something good will come out of it,¨ I murmured under my breath insistently. Despite my colossal fear of heights, with the persistent coaching of my 3 best friends, I found myself 25 feet high in the air on the cramped edge of a cliff at Pewit’s Nest State Park. Hands pouring sweat and legs trembling, I felt my way along the narrow pathway to ¨the jumping spot.¨ Even though the ¨jumping spot was only a couple feet away from the point where you climb up, it felt miles long and my breathing quickened rapidly. I knew that if I looked down at the swirling water, or even up at the dark overhangs and massive cliffs above me, I would chicken out and crawl back down the ledge to safe ground. So, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on my destination, the jumping spot, I cautiously placed one foot in front of the other.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t show up, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.”

Growing up as a teenager you go through many obstacles. Some face more difficult ones than others. One of the many obstacles most teenagers go through is finding your comfort zone, and being able to step out of it at times. Many people including me are skeptical about crossing their line of comfort. These past four years I have had a lot of growth, and most of the experiences have had to do with me finding myself outside my comfort zone.

We grab our gear out of the trunk of the Jeep and head to the Chairlifts. After clicking in my boots to the Skis, we go stand in line for the Chairlifts. The line moves fairly quickly and before I knew it I was getting scooped by the Chairlift and going up the beautiful mountainside. Everything was covered in snow from the cold hard ground to the stunning white Pine and Aspen trees. After a little we came to the summit of Loveland Ski Area. It was a constant blizzard and wasn’t the most comfortable to be up there. The chilling of the wind alongside the snow made it feel like the snow was piercing my skin with tiny white needles. Nick and I decided to bomb the hill for a little to get used to skiing again. It didn’t take very long to get used to it again but by the time we did, we already went quite aways down the

It started out as a sheet of ice, no powder. I cut back and forth, throwing my legs forwards and backwards to make my board go left and right. By the time I got out of the ice I could feel the burn in my calves. The bowl had started to level out, that meant I would actually be on snow instead of ice. I came to a fork in the path, and I went left. It looked winding and went through the trees. I went through the path fast and when I looked ahead, I saw a natural jump on the path. These are made when part of the hill slopes down and immediately slopes back up at a higher angle. I went for it, bending my knees and readying myself. I came to the top and pushed off by straightening my legs. I know I was only up in the air for a second, maybe two, but it felt like I was flying. I couldn’t feel the ground; all I could feel was the weight of my board pulling me back down to earth. I came back to the ground and I carved right and left on my board to make sure I had my balance. I saw another jump ahead. I bent my knees and readied myself again. I picked up speed and pushed off of the top again. Only this time, when I came back to the ground I lost my

We changed into our ski attire and headed towards the "Village", where the main toboggan slope was. We had a few goes down the mountain and experienced many different difficulties along the way. After 20 minutes worth of fun, we headed down to the Koala Creek. The Koala Creek was a tobogganing slope made out of dry ice and had a few rocky and slippery areas. It also had some bumps and dips towards the end of the slope. We had