The Boom from the Sky and The Joys of Nature as a Young Boy

My eyes peeled open slowly and the bright sunlight flooded into my eyes, blinding me. I heard the sound of running water and felt the cold breeze flow over my body. I looked out of my hammock and in front of me was a beautiful waterfall and several towering, bright green trees. My friends whom were with me shortly awoke and we packed our things and set off on our first true day of hiking in the Appalachian mountains.

Hiking to the summit of Black Mountain is not easy. The hike is plagued with boulders, slippery rocks, and a steep incline, which make the hike feel like walking up an infinite flight of stairs. However, the pain in my thighs and the burning in my lungs is a tiny price to pay to experience the summit of Black Mountain. My first experience with Black Mountain’s summit occurred when I was only five years old. My aunt used to be a hiking fanatic, and she loved to take me on new hikes that she discovered. When my aunt took me to the summit of Black Mountain for the first time, I was captivated by the place. My captivation has continued throughout the years. The summit of Black Mountain is captivating because of the environment, view, and weather.

It had looked so far away it was hard to believe I would be on top of it in a few days. Besides in the campsites, we only saw one other group of people during the entire 12 day trek and the only human sounds were our own. Each camp was an island of civilization in a great sea of wilderness, and a wonderful solace to end the day’s hike.

After a long mountainous drive, I arrived at my destination to embrace one of nature’s wonders in the Great Smokey Mountain National Park, Abram Falls Trail. Upon departing the car, a cool crisp breeze brushed my face and the aroma of bacon lingered in the early morning air from the neighboring campground. The narrow rocky footpath looked like a tedious adventure, however a gorgeous, vibrant array of red, purple, orange, and yellow wildflowers blossoming at the entrance made the trail alluring. Navigating the rocky, uneven terrain required sturdy footing, but the quiet stillness created a peaceful relaxing atmosphere. The lush pine-oak forest formed a green canopy of shelter above the trail, offering welcome cool shade, as vivid sunlight filtered through the foliage. A sweet honey fragrance permeated the air, as a stunning scene displayed a cluster of purple and pure white

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.

I stopped for a moment to get out my flashlight and head lamp before it became pitch black. Light works differently in the woods. There is no light unless it is from the sun or the moon. There are no streetlamps or houses with a light on just, dark. It was absolutely frigid once the sun vanished behind the mountains. I was walking up the road that leads in to the camp. The first that hit me was the smell of rancor, The un-mistakable smell of water mixing with soil. The stream was running strong pushing clear all of the leaves that have drifted down from the trees. The stream was flowed like a small reviver collecting all the water from the rain. I set up my hammock just next to it in-between two towering scrub oak trees with squires flying between them and fell asleep to the sound of the trees talking and the streams

Four days and 1,304 miles can be the experience of a lifetime. Driving through California, up to the forest was breathtaking. I saw trees mix together until massive trees towered over us. Although the trees are tall and straight, they have knots and grooves in the bark. Some of the trees have rough char marks from past fires. The gigantic trees are thick around the base and rise like skyscrapers; the canopy blocking out the sun. The forest air has a sense of damp earth and nature with cool mist everywhere; the surroundings are calm and relaxing.

Most nights Wenatchee River looked eerily beautiful when the fog rolled over the fiery trees, but that night the mist clung uncomfortably to my skin and skewed the forest around me. I had to rely on the distant sound of chaotic whispers and a faint warm glow ahead of me. The

The trees and surrounding mountain peaks were covered in about nine inches of fresh snow that had fallen a few days prior to our visit. We gradually drove through thick timber, and open sage covered meadows. We knew the area very well from past hunting and camping trips, so we were happy to be in it once again. We drove eyes peeled for both dead, dry logs and for elk. The whole family was blessed that year with nice deer and were happy to maybe top it off with a nice bull. We drove for another fifteen minutes before we reached the treed area that had the logs we wanted, dead but dry, logs that had little amounts of branches. We spent the next hour or so, felling and cutting the fifty to sixty foot tree into ten foot sections so they could fit into the small little Toyota Tacoma bed. We ended with about ten to fifteen logs weighing sixty to seventy pounds in the back of the truck. Making it sag in the back quite a bit. We both gave each other a look of satisfaction and a smile. The drive and the pursuit of elk wasn’t over and the sun was still up for another two hours. We decided to continue up the mountain until the snow was too deep. Once we reached that point, we turned around and made our way down the mountain. The drive was even better going down than going up. The sun casted shadows and made an orange glow over the snow covered mountain; not to mention that I was out of school since lunch time. As the sun set further and further behind the horizon, my attitude toward killing an elk fell too. We drove pass sage flats and snow covered draws with iced over creeks. We reached a part in the road where we were up on the side of a hill looking down on a small creek that had scattered pine and willow trees. On the other side of the draw was a tree line about two thirds of the way up the hill and sage from there down. My eyes wandered from the tree line to the creek. As we passed a pine tree that covered my line

I ran out of the cabin for some fresh air after finishing my work. I love nature so I love my lonely cabin deep within the forest. Besides the dancing trees, annoying squirrels, and a babbling brook, I had privacy. I think the squirrels are out to kill me because they always throw acorns at me when I’m near them. In the deep wood that I called home, I’d spend hours daydreaming the day away. Hearing the wind singing would cure me from a contagious disease called life problems. Somedays, I would sit on a tree branch and play Flappy Bird. Up high is where you get the best Wifi connection. Whenever I was tired, I’d sit in the trees and take a quick catnap. The tree branches were my ladder to my peaceful solitude up high and the leaves were my pillow

My heart pounded against my chest as I stood at the mountain’s edge. The sweet aroma of pine trees flowed through the air as the wind hummed in the background. The serenity of nature broke as my skis dipped down the edge of the mountain, turning swiftly to avoid a tree. My skis sunk into the heavy snow as I navigated through the strange world only accessible to those seeking adventure. The adrenaline ran through my veins as the wind pushed past me. My skis were at the mercy of the powerful mountain and, in this moment, I realized how small I was compared to everything around me.

When the sun slowly peeps over the range of mountains, birds shake the morning dew off their feathers and give a cheerful song that would lift even the most sorrowful of spirits. A light fog wraps around the mountain range, reaching to touch every bit of life thriving there. The slight chill in the air is enough to give a gentle shiver, but not enough for the need of a jacket. A breeze tickles the trees, making their leaves shake and sway with laughter. Sunlight seeps in past the thick canopy of branches with hopes of being able to reach the damp mountain earth. The mountains are the best place to live to be relaxed, see the most beauty, and never get bored.

Waking up to discover the immense, pristine wilderness of Alaska, hearing nothing but the tranquilizing sound of Mother Nature. (incomplete sentence) Listening to the birds chirping their sounds while feeling the tremble of your heart beating through your veins. Trees as far as one can see. Rolling hills and in the reach peaks covered with ghostly snow. The sounds of streams growing larger until it rushes over a fall into an untainted lake. Moss growing silently on the trunks of trees while droplets of water fall from large leaves. Pondering the true meaning of life while absorbing nature’s grace. Only few can relate to this scene of the wild, one such man being Christopher John McCandless, a young pioneer and traveler.

As we continued to climb in elevation, the cacti turned into bushes, the bushes turned into shrubbery, and suddenly, we were in the forest. I swear, in merely a half of an hour, I saw more trees than I had seen in the entire state of New Mexico the past two days. It was unbelievable that such a thing, such as a forest, could exist tucked away in the mountains in the middle of the desert. The more we hiked, and the higher we got, the better this forest became.

Grasslands gave way to a rocky and dry climate and the colors around us changed from green to shades of red, orange, yellow, and brown. The land was broken here. Rough and jagged features made it harsh to the senses. It was a great desert filled with thorny plants and scaly creatures. Once David walked right by a rattlesnake that I saw only as I was about to step on it. The unconcerned rattler sidewinded off across the sands. The urge to see what lay ahead grew stronger as we pressed on into the heat. Water grew scarce, hiding away in the bottoms of canyons, and hollows in the rocks only to be found by the keen senses of the horses. Gathering the succulent fruit of prickly pear cactus and removing the spines provided us with sustenance in an unforgiving