Have you ever looked off a gigantic cliff? Now imagine traveling 30 miles per hour on a bike with curvy roads with enormous cliffs on your side with no rails. This is exactly what I did with my family when we went to Colorado. From the hotel we drove to a bike tour place to take us to the summit of Pikes Peak. After we arrived at the building we saw pictures of how massive the cliffs were, but what terrified me was the fact they had no side rails. This observation was thrilling as well as terrifying. It was an odd mix of emotions, but I loved the adrenaline rush it gave me. My dad whispered to me, “ This will be absolutely horrifying”. I replied, “ You're right, but at the same time it will be super awesome”. As soon as everyone was at …show more content…
Consequently, the ride was more enjoyable. The curves became more familiar to me, causing me to realize there was more room than I thought, which made the ride much more enjoyable. When the group reached the timberline we stopped to look at the magnificent scenery. At the timberline there seemed to be an abundance of trees. Meanwhile, my dad joked, “ Maybe we should move here someday.” After taking in the view of the whole city of Manitou Springs we hopped on our bikes to resume riding down the mountain. Not long after we resumed riding, we actually had to go up a hill. This hill was unbelievably steep. It was a struggle to pedal even while standing up, but I finally made it up the hill. The rest of the ride was much easier. When the group finished the ride down the mountain, the tour company took us to an extremely disgusting Greek restaurant. The food tasted absolutely repugnant, but I ate it since the hunger inside of me was so great after the bike ride. Riding down Pikes Peak was one of the best adventures I have ever had, however, it was horrifying at times. Our whole vacation in Colorado was full of adventure. We rode ATVs, went white water rafting, but the best part was riding a bike down Pikes Peak. This was an exhilarating adventure I will never
It was simply amazing hiking out there, the mountains covered in tall trees that dug into the rocky soil, the beautiful sky, when visible. Even in the midst of strenuous exercise I still en...
As my father and I finally fit the statue of the little Virgin Mary in the back of the car, it was time to get on the road. I could already taste the guavas from my great grandfather’s ranch. Feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. The smell of my aunt’s cooking. Hearing the excitement of my great grandmother’s voice. I wanted to be there already, be in the beautiful country of Mexico. My thoughts wandered as we left my house. How much welcome, love, and the sadness of leaving was going to happen. It was too soon to find out.
I was sitting in a basement that smelled bad and was stuffy, I needed to get out of there. I was with my friend who liked to ride bikes. So, we decided to ride bikes. Outside we only had 1 normal bike, the other was an old bike with a banana seat on it. I lost a coin toss so I had to ride the trashy bike that had trouble even going straight. There was a trail down at the park where we would ride the bikes. We thought we would go there first and then go climb on playground after. At the very beginning of the trail there’s this difficult hill that goes pretty fast and shoots you right at a left turn. If you didn’t slow down and turn fast enough you would crash.
I wonder if I should I start calling Las Vegas, Nevada home now. I’ve traveled back and forth from California to Las Vegas since I was a child. I can remember at the age of thirteen my family and I would take family weekend trips very often. By the age of seventeen I was forced to move to Vegas for 6 months right before my senior year of high school started. Since it was my last year of high school my parents decided to let me go back to California for the last three months and graduate with my friends. Since I wasn’t eighteen yet, I forced to go back to Las Vegas right the day after graduation.
My youth pastor pulled out of our church parking lot at three am in the morning loaded down with a bus full of twenty four teenagers including me. We were off at last head to Colorado Spring Colorado, little did I know, our bus was going to fall apart this very day.
One of the best family trips that I have been on occurred when I was about 8 years old. My family and I were invited to go on a 4th of July camping trip to Telluride by some family friends that have 5 kids the same ages as our kids. Several other good friends were also invited to join us. We prepared our camping gear, loaded up the car and hooked up our trailer with our Polaris Ranger. The long drive to Telluride was 7 hours and it felt like it took forever because we were so excited to arrive. Even though the drive up their wasn’t fun at all, the reward was great.
It was the last day of school, my friends and I all planned to go to Kings Island the next day. There is a big problem, the thing is I don’t ride rollercoasters and I’m terrified to get on one, I tried to act excited when my buddies kept talking about it but it was just hard because I’d be the boring one not getting on any of the rides. I knew that this trip was going either make me conquer my fears or become more scared of them.
I am adventurous. No I don't sky dive, wrestle crocodiles, or swim with sharks, but when asked by a group of friends to go cliff diving last summer, my best response was, “Sounds like fun!” I had never been afraid of heights yet have never experienced the thrill of cliff diving. All I could ask myself was, “What could go wrong?”
In a state of hypoxic exhilaration, I laughed aloud. I momentarily forgot all the miles I would have to hike down and I lost myself in the breathtaking beauty of the hard-earned view. I’m lucky enough to live in a state where hiking is considered a fundamental part of life, and there’s something about being in the mountains that centers me like nothing else can. Hiking forces me into the present moment, into nature, and nothing has taught me the value of hard work like the moment when my legs are shaking and my lungs are burning but I’m at the top with the whole world sprawled out miles
Every winter my father and I have our annual ski trip to Sunday River, a large mountain in Newry, Maine. This was my favorite time of year because I got to go skiing with my dad on this huge mountain and experience all different types of trails and terrain. From a young age, I started going to Sunday River with my family. My brother would always come up and do all the trails along with the rest of my family but there was one I was kept from doing every year. This trail is known at Sunday River as the infamous White Heat.
How lovely the park was to be in. Her corset didn’t feel quite so tight when she was surrounded by trees and bright green grass. Perhaps it was not as respectable as a dress shop, but how lovely to be underneath a blue sky dotted with clouds rather than paint and wallpaper and the stink of perfume. How natural and pleasant was the smell of a park. The willowy trees and bright flowers emanated tranquility.
Regardless, the mountain was not entirely devoid of inspiration. Sometimes as we hiked upwards, my senses would be struck by a brief glimpse of the blue sea shining through the needles of the pine trees, or the whisper of the waves wafting up from the edges of the rocky cliffs. However, no matter how tantalized I was to pursue these snapshots, I could never liberate myself from the safety and familiarity of the boardwalk; each time, I accepted certainty in wonder’s stead and followed convention, disregarding the fact that I only felt secure because of my self-imposed confinement. By clinging to my comfort zone, never would I enjoy the chorus of the pines or be delighted by the crashing waves, missing what I
I will never forget how a number of mundane occurrences created such a wonderful memory: my mother’s dislike of heights, my father’s horrible driving, the scenery, and the arrival at the top. My father parked the car, we all bundled up, and then we climbed out of the car. There was a lovely gift shop next to the Pike’s Peak sign. My family and I separated as we searched for souvenirs.
Decided to go on an adventure of a lifetime. We walked about a mile to some rural area. I was extremely breathless considering the vast amount of heat and the lack of water in this over dry, drought-prone place. It was as though the sun was trying to punish me. I walked through the densest part of the forest and eventually came to a clearing of the sand.
This area of the world is so foreign to my Oklahoma life; it infuses me with awe, and with an eerie feeling of being strongly enclosed by huge mountains, and the mass of tall trees. However, when my foot first steps onto the dusty trail it feels crazily magical. The clean, crisp air, the new smell of evergreen trees and freshly fallen rain is mixed with fragrances I can only guess at. It is like the world has just taken a steroid of enchantment! I take it all in, and embrace this new place before it leaves like a dream and reality robs the moment. As I turn and look at my family, I was caught by my reflection in their impressions. The hair raising mischief in the car was forgotten and now it was time to be caught up in this newness of life. It was as if the whole world around us had changed and everyone was ready to engulf themselves in it. The trickling of water somewhere in the distance and the faint noise of animals all brought the mountains to