So I am writing this paper for my English class about hiking up to Ruffneck Peak. You can read about the whole experince on my mom's blog mamallama8.blogspot.com
but anyways, for this paper, I am going to present it to my class. This
paper is a very descriptive paper, it paints the picture for the
listener/reader to see in their own mind. But, in order for it to have
full effect, I wanted to have a visual. So here are some pictures of
what I am describing in my paper.
And here is the paper:
Ruffneck Peak
“Is every one ready? Alright.
Let’s go,” Dad commands. I love the sound of our footsteps as we walk. Crunch
crunch; our feet crumble the dead pine needles on the ground. Sweet pine fills my
nostrils as the sun beats down on my face. A slight breeze balances the
radiating heat from the sun. Our breathing grows heavier as the trail gets
steeper, although I feel light weight, like a feather. This is much easier than
yesterday’s hike without our packs weighing down our shoulders.
A meadow filled with green grass and wild flowers comes into view. Little
patches of water form mini lakes in the tall grass. Trees line the outsides of
the meadow, standing guard; protecting the serenity of this place. The mountain
peak that is our goal appears; patches of pure white snow glisten at the very
top.
The mountain disappears again as
the trees guarding the meadow allow us to pass under. A snap of a twig alerts
my ears. I turn just in time to see a deer bound away, frightened by our
footsteps. A squirrel scurries up a tree, its mouth full of nuts.
The ground becomes rocky, the
crunch more persistent beneath my feet. Boulders line the trail and the trees and
plants vanish; rocks dominate the ground. I can see far distant mountains
behind me; purple along the horizon. The tops of the trees are no match for me
at this elevation. I can see right over them.
We continue onward in the rocky
terrain. Up ahead is a monster. A tree deformed and black; no leaves nor pine
needles grow on it, completely dead. It is huge! Almost 40 feet tall. Streaks
of brown run along the trunk and branches. We call it the Big Scary Tree. As we
pass it, it looms over us; impending and powerful.
Once past the dead tree we come
under the sweet shade of the live trees once again. We sit and revel in the
coolness before continuing onward. As I look out at the view again, I can see
little blue circles surrounded by trees; the distant mountains ever prominent.
As we approach the awful switch
backs I look up at our destination: the peak. My legs weigh
me down; I struggle for breath. The feeling of lightness has long since fled
from me. The switch backs are the steepest part of the hike, but also the most
rewarding. The beautiful view is ever present as we climb higher and higher,
the valley expanding below us.
At the last stretch, the last
couple of switchbacks, my siblings and I decide to climb straight up the
mountain. We are too anxious to get to the top. We practically sprint up the
side; sweat running down our necks. We arrive triumphantly at the top and wait
for our parents to join us. I look out at the valley before my eyes. I am at
the top of the world. Below me, blue splotches occasionally interrupt a sea of
green. Dad points out the lake where we stayed overnight. The peaks in the distance
are too many to count. I can see forever.
Suddenly a thump of cold, surprising wetness
runs down the back of my neck. I turn and my brother is standing in a white war
zone. It’s on.
