Personal Narrative: San Diego Beach

at Keuka Lake. Grandpa put his strong arms under me and told me to paddle with my arms and kick with my legs. “Reach as far as you can, Lynnie,” he told me. Grandpa showed me how he cupped his hands to pull through the water, keeping his fingers together. One time, I took such a big gulp of air before going under, that I made Grandpa laugh. Grandpa laughed so hard that he swallowed some of the lake water. He made me laugh, too. Suddenly, I wasn’t afraid anymore! And before I knew it, I was swimming through the water on my own. Just as my grandfather stayed by my side and prepared me to go out on my own, so too did Garvey prepare Cole for his important

The United States has always been “home” to me because I feel that I am a bit of the quintessential American story. I was born to immigrants hoping for a better opportunity than what was offered from their third world home country. I was raised and went to school here, which blended many of my parent’s home culture and the new American culture. As I have matured, I have noticed how much my life has been influenced by society’s opportunities and issues. The American character is the crossroads of opportunity, struggle, and hopefulness because the it is not only a reflection of the founding father’s ideas, but also a reflection of minorities who have interjected their experiences that shaped my American journey.

Traveling two thousand two hundred miles seemed like a stretch to many, but not to me. One brisk morning I jumped off the catamaran and ventured onto the most mesmerizing place I had ever encountered in my fifteen years of life. It was spring, two thousand and fourteen when I came to know Catalina Island, California. Everything seemed like it was in slow motion coming ashore. It isn’t enough for me to say I just saw Catalina Island, I felt everything that it had to offer. As I crossed over the pier I looked down and saw a school of fish fifteen feet below the crystal clear surface. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. They were rich in color and exuberant in their movement. I could imagine how unconsciously free

I had arrived for a two-week stay at the transit barracks of Camp Pendleton in California. We would stay here temporarily until we flew to our overseas base destination. They had told us that we were not allowed to leave the base prior to our flight. They probably believed that some of the newer soldiers might get themselves into trouble in Oceanside, or head for home with cold feet rather than leaving the United States for the next year.

When the other group caught up, our arms were already tiring and we began to paddle even harder than before. As we kayaked further out, I could feel my arms getting heavier and what I wanted to do most was just give my arms a rest. But I knew that if I took a rest, our boat would be pushed off course and that it would cost me even more to get the boat back on course. So, I kept paddling, my arms lumps of lead, the pain running through them was like being branded with a hot iron. Along with paddling, I was also in charge of steering the boat which on that day, was slightly easier than staying on a bucking bull. As we got closer to our destination, imagining giving my arms gave me motivation to push myself even harder than before, speeding us towards the beach. At long last, we pulled up our kayaks on the beach and I finally put my paddle down, giving my arms a well-deserved

The soaring sandstone cliffs never cease to amaze me. They offer a freedom from everyday life. After being cooped up in a classroom all of January and February, I needed a break. Going to the slot canyons to the east of Zion was the perfect way to start that break. Spring break. Today my uncle Wade, older brother Tyler, and cousin Silver were going to climb cougars cliff, which is near Snow Canyon. This was the third time that I had ever gone rock climbing, so it seems reasonable to attempt the daunting 135 foot cliff. I climbed into a harness. Wade tied a double fisherman’s knot, and then the four of us approached the wall.

Coming to a conclusion that whitewater rafting down the Snake River was one of the worst decisions my family has ever made, I sulked, and whined, and complained the whole walk down to the docks. My parents, the guides, and a girl about my age in our group, all told me, “don’t worry, it’ll be fun.” But their efforts were pointless, and I picked up on a conversation behind me, where someone was casually talking about the overwhelming chance the raft would flip over. Nevertheless, everyone apparently believed it was something I would look back on and maybe even write a personal narrative about.

Since I was a little kid I love to play at the beach .For me beach its like a second home, I could spend half of my dayat the beach, built a castle from the sands, swam to catch the waves, or just simply sat there to wait for mr.sun came down after the whole day he was busy brighten up the world , by the way I did these activities after I came back from the school of course. i used to go to the beach with my mom and my dad, they taught me how to fish and swim without any lifevest for the first time. It took me a while to finally know the basic of swimming even though we lived near the beach. Furthermore, when I was a little grown up, ofcourse I went to the beach with my friends more often than my parents.

Mountains of water loomed, and as the others screamedin exhilaration, my body froze. I was sure there was a way to bypass thetreacherous waters ahead. My mind raced through Kim's instructions, but I couldnot get my thoughts together. I dug my feet in as tight as I could so most of myweight was in my legs. I paddled faster, intent on obeying every one of Kim's commands.

I grew up in a community in San Diego, California called "North Park". It's a popular tourist spot since it's extremely close to the San Diego Zoo, Balboa Park, Downtown's shopping centers and convention headquarters. My neighborhood was extremely well known and popular for their fresh and authentic Mexican food; everything was locally grown and was made with extra flavor. If you were craving mouth-watering Mexican food or looking to expand your taste bud horizons, North Park was the place to go. The community itself carried homey vintage shops, "mom and pop" type restaurants with creations from all over the world, and a truly welcoming space for so many walks of life. The overall vibe and environment that North Park provided was a place of

Impatiently standing on the itchy grass, I wait for my mom to finish layering sunscreen on me. Just before then, I had attempted to slip on my orange arm floaties. Of cource they got stuck about halfway up my arm so I had to dip them in the water before sucessfully pulling them all the way up to just below my shoulder. At five years old, I hadn’t exactly learned how to swim in any way other than the doggy paddle. Danielle, my little sister, who also wore the same orange floaties, was already at the stairs. I quickly escaped my mom and ran over to join her, only slowing down at the last minute so as not to hurt my feet on the small bit of rocky sand before the stairs. Black pieces of something were bolted to the dark wooden stairs. The water

Today was the last day of my field trip to Catilina island. I was going kayaking that day. I was on a rocky beach. I could here the waves crushing agisnt the rocks as we where getting ready to go out to sea on the kayaks. The sea breeze stung my face when I looked into it. We had to put on water shoes to keep our feet from getting cuts on the rocks. The shoes did not do a very good job of keeping our feet from hurting, altho they did stop us from getting cuts. The hardest part was getting the kayaks to the shore. They were about 48 to 58 feet from the shore. It was hard because we could not drag the kayaks to the shore. After we got the kayaks to shore we sat in our kayaks ready to go out to sea. This felt surprising to me as it was a new

When me and my grandma got our tickets to go to California it was so exciting!!! We packed our bags to days early. It was hard to decide as we were packing so i had my grandma pack my bags for me that made it really easy. It was funny what we packed my packed me close to last a whole month, it was crazy. So we were done packing so we went to bed early because the next day we left. We were so excited it was hard for me to fall asleep but somehow, i managed to go to sleep. I slept on the way there it was a long drive so packing was pretty fun.

On my tenth birthday, November 15 2012, I learned to surf. At the time I lived in Santa Cruz, California on the east side of town, not too far from the ocean. That morning at 9 a.m we arrived at Pleasure Point, a famous surf spot in Santa Cruz. It was a cold, stormy, windy day. A old school professional surfer friend of ours, “Perry”, offered to teach me to surf on my birthday. I had never really liked being in the ocean unless the water was calm and it was a hot sunny day. Today was very different. The wind was howling and caused the waves to be very choppy. Big black thunderclouds waited above. The waves were much larger than I expected and seeing them my stomach started to turn. Only a few experienced surfers could be seen out in the water. In California the water is much cooler than in Hawaii so you must wear a wetsuit. Even then, after a few hours your feet will go numb and your joints will start to lock up. As a

Sunny San Diego. After six hours of travel, two plane changes, and one annoying seatmate, I had finally arrived. It was my introduction to the West Coast. Seeing palm trees everywhere was a shock to my Midwestern eyes. The blue of the cloudless sky was intoxicating. As I breathed in my new surroundings, I decided that I could get used to this.