Personal Narrative On Mount Washington

The feeling of fear excites me, an ecstasy of joy trickles into my veins. In a quick moment I make a choice and the adrenaline surges as I boost off a massive cliff, with a thud and a mushroom cloud of powder, snow drifts onto my face. With each line persuading me towards the life of a ski bum, living in a van, going from mountain to mountain, meeting new people and experiencing new thrills.

In Matthew Hedger’s article “Yosemite National Park Day Hikes: Vernal Falls Death March”, he claims that you don’t always know what you’re getting into and find that things are harder than they seem. Hedger supports his claim with a story of his hike up Vernal Falls. His purpose is to inform his readers that you can always get through difficult things and that they’re stronger than they think. The intended audience is anyone who enjoys a good story and wants to know about hiking.

We were all encouraged to choke down as much food as possible. Any kind of energy was essential. A melancholy atmosphere hung heavy as the journey progressed. Minutes walking slowly progressed into hours, the sky seemed to darken steadily. All of us were oblivious to the danger shrouded by the dim evening. Only moments after scaling a rather steep ledge did nature dice to turn sour. A deafening rumble made each climber perk up. Snow began to descend at an alarming rate. Thunder began to mic the steady beating of a drum, causing more concern among the ranks of climbers. The powdery snow became more of a risk than ever, climbing under pressure and leaving nothing to stand on. Third base was more than three hours away. Three hours wasn't possible at the rate. Snowfall this bad could be detrimental to the climb’s success. Snow obscured vision and numbed faces. Shouts and orders deemed lost in the screaming wind; people’s figure became shapeless blurs frantically shifting, hoping if they struggled against the wind hard enough, they might find someone. Of course, this was to no avail. Not a single person doubted their demise would come at this point: the stakes were high and no-one could play too well against Mother Nature. The snow crept up to knee-level, making it harder and harder to travel. Death and I were face-to-face. To some, they couldn't bare the idea of dying up here; they had families and friends, children who need parents and

The first time I saw Mt. Rainier for myself, was last summer when my boyfriend and I drove to Washington. It was the most beautiful, peaceful looking mountain I have ever seen. However, underneath it's great beauty, it hides a deadly secret. Mt. Rainier is one of the most dangerous volcanoes that we have here in the United States. One of the reasons it is so dangerous is because of it's great beauty. People enjoy looking at it, and the area that surrounds it, so they have made their homes here. Mt Rainier is not the only volcano I am interested in, in fact this last summer I also went to Mt. St. Helens and Crater Lake. But it is the volcano I chose to research for this paper because it does have so much beauty and at the

As Bill took his first step in the woods, he takes a deep breath soaking in the scent of oak and fresh ash. “far removed from the seats of strife”, not having a warm bed or hot meals even a full night rest. Knowing he had one abventure ahead for Bill and Kats. Both having to hike 16 miles everyday over rocks,trees, crossing ice cold rivers, and hearding the rain outside of thier tend and the roaring of the bears at night.

As we started along the trail, I worried about forgotten items and my decision to only bring one extra pair of socks. However, after a while, I became aware of a pair of birds chattering above me and the soft murmur of water trickling down a stream bed. After an hour of walking, the trail starts winding back on itself in a series of switchbacks. The chatter between my family members slows down, as we soon struggled to breathe from exhaustion. Sometimes I was hunched over so far from my load that I would stare at my rubber-toed boots and forget to look up at the majestic trees surrounding me.

I’ve always loved water, ever since I can remember. Jumping in, splashing around, a cool chill rushing over you. It's almost like you are weightless, carefree.

Mount Zion, Washington, located just north of Rock Island, where the rain was soft, the fog was thick, and, if you were lucky enough to live near one of its many orchards, the air was rich with the perfume of apple blossoms. Known as the Liminal Capitol of the Pacific Northwest, Mount Zion earned itself a reputation for various hauntings, UFO sightings, disappearances, and a plethora unexplained events. It eventually became a novelty town, every shop catering to tourists, however, I do believe that under the lively rural exterior, something dark is lurking in the massive forest surrounding the town. Fortunately, I do not, nor have I ever lived in Mount Zion, Washington.

You have two nieces, it's really nice. Kids are amazing and innocent. One of my friends live in Hopkinton, he has an 18months old daughter. She is really cute, sometimes I visit him just to play with the kiddo :) Syracuse is not very far, it's really nice to have family close by. Do your parents live close your brother?

It is December 26, 2011. The trees are bare; the grass is lifeless. The brutal winds send shivers down my spine. My family and I pack our suitcases in the car, and we begin the long journey up to Natchez. Everywhere I look, I see dead trees and brown grass. I listen to the wind, whistling past the car. The three hour drive seems like an eternity.

The cool winter air stung my face as I exited through the ski lodge door. Board in hand, I stepped onto the powdery snow. After each step I took all I heard was crunches and crackles from the snow compacting underneath my weight. I nervously made my way over to the top of the bunny hill where a tall, beat up looking man named Dave stood. He looked as if the cold weather had made him age quicker than the rest. The earnest look on his face caused me to shudder in fear. His eyes pierced through my soul as if warning me not to go through with this. I took a deep breath as I realized how

This past summer my family went on a vacation out west to Zion National Park, Utah. In Zion, we saw many amazing things, but nothing could compare to our trip to the top of Angel's Landing. The morning of our hike we were scheduled to leave our hotel by six o’clock. It was cold and foggy and all I had on was a pair of shorts, a tank top, and my new black hiking sandals; nonetheless, I was freezing. When we finally got to the shuttle bus stop there were very few people there. On the shuttle bus ride, my anxiety about going on this hike was growing even more.

The path leading back towards the campground was very narrow and very, very rocky. So much so that we were forced to park the cars in a small clearing and proceed on foot, about a mile down this path, to reach the campground. I quietly dreaded the idea of lugging all of our gear and supplies down this derelict mountain trail, but I did not voice my displeasure as this trip was something I had been looking forward to for a significant period of time now. As I hoisted my backpack onto my back and slung my large duffle bag over one shoulder, I thought of the hour I spent packing the day before, and secretly admonished myself for including those 2 extra flashlights, 5 extra pairs of socks, and 6 bottles of Gatorade in my list of "absolutely essential items" for the trip. I wished that I could just remove them from my bag and leave them in the trunk of the car, but as my father surely would have pointed out "it's better to have and not need, than to need and not have". God bless the old

It was just the beginning of February. The winter cold, brutal, and yet normal for the people living in Michigan. My best friend Brian, his uncle Craig, and I were driving back together from Craig’s up north cottage. Brian and I were riding passenger with Craig in his Chevy Silverado pick-up. We were coming back from the annual Perchville Polar Bear Plunge that took place in Tawas, Michigan. A lot was on my mind since it was the second semester of my senior year, and graduation was right around the corner. I had no idea what I wanted to do, or where my future would take me.

I slowly crept around a corner engraved by the trail of smashed snow, getting ready for the huge drop. Of course, I made my uncle go first because like always, I am a scaredy cat. He softly drifted smoothly across the surface, spraying snow all around the backs of the skis. Turning around, asking for an applause, he smiled and chuckled like the hill was a breeze. My huge feet clomped loudly on the surface of the snow. I positioned myself forward and pushed off with my poles. The rushing wind paralyzed my face as I tried to focus on my path. The bushy trees zoomed past me, giving me this rush of adrenaline. I finally came to a halting stop right next to my uncle and waited for the others to join