Humphrey’s Atmosphere As I drive along the roads of Flagstaff, a few things immediately dawn on the mind; it seems like a place that would be used as some sort of cinematic scene in a movie. The air smells as though it would be something from a local garden; scenery that would be portrayed in a painting. The colors are seen as bright and vivid, with all different kinds of hues sprawled across the land for what seems like an infinite plane. Trees fly by at breakneck speeds as I drive by. Trying to focus on one thing seems impossible as all of the landscape speeds by in an instant, just to be replaced by something else. Flagstaff seems as though it is a place that was never intended for an automobile. I grab my bag setting out for my next …show more content…
My body is struggling to push, step after step and my lungs are filling rapidly, desperately clinging to any amount of oxygen they can receive amidst the altitude. My heart is pounding faster than it ever has, as if it could jump from my chest at any moment. My mouth is so dry that I could eat a spoonful of the powdered dirt and taste no difference in the texture. Yet the trees suddenly stop as I escalate further up the mountain. As I climb the side of the mountain the stellar blue in the sky grows in size slowly dominating what the trees covered just moments …show more content…
A familiar sound, yet somehow different. Blinding rays of sun pound on any bare skin that it can find. Out of breath, yet every time a breath is taken it tastes somehow more fresh than those that were taken just hours ago. Water has never tasted as good as it does now. Not a single tree blocks my sight of the vast landscape surrounding. As far as the human eye can register are planes and smaller mountains that seem like nothing compared to Humphrey’s peak; appearing almost as if they could be devoured in a single bite if wanting a light snack. The mountains dissipate into the far land; the decreased visibility makes the far land around me seem like a ghostly
The drive to cross the Kentucky border had taken hours and hours of strenuous patience to finally arrive in another state. The view was by far country like as hints of cow manure could be smelled far from a distance. We drive through small towns, half the size of our hometown of Glen Ellyn had been the biggest town we've seen if not smaller. The scenery had overwhelmed us, as lumps of Earth from a great distance turned to perfectly molded hills, but as we got closer and closer to our destination the hills no longer were hills anymore, instead the hills had transformed to massive mountains of various sizes. These mountains surrounded our every view as if we had sunken into a great big deep hole of green pastures. Our path of direction was seen, as the trails of our road that had followed for numerous hours ended up winding up the mountainous mountains in a corkscrew dizzy-like matter.
It was 12:00 at night, but I was still wide awake. I was anxious for the trip that was in store for me. The next morning I drove to the airport and took a flight to Colorado. I rented a car and drove to Red Cliffs lodge in Moab, Utah. Moab is a dry, desert town in Utah located right next to Canyonlands national park where I would spend most of my time. Right as I got out of the car I could see the beautiful canyonlands scenery. The gigantic cliffs of the island in the sky loomed over the lodge. The blue waters of the Colorado river ran behind the lodge. My room was spacious and had a great view of the cliffs. The best part of the room was the window right above my bed. That night I fell asleep gazing at a full moon and a sky full of stars.
The air was fresh and chilly. The trail came out of the forest and we joined a logging road and continued our climb. We re-entered the forest and continued to climb...yes we were gaining altitude quickly and soon our hearts were thumping! This was no longer a gentle climb.
Surprisingly, our parents had beaten us to the top and we all stopped in awe, mesmerized by the great waterfall in front of us. My mouth felt like the Sahara desert. I vividly remember reaching for the chilling water bottle that hid underneath the tons of clothes stuffed in my father’s black backpack to quench my thirst. I took off my beaten down shoes and stinky socks covered in dirt from the trail and blood from the blisters on my feet and dove into the refreshing lake. After swimming through the lake for a few seconds, I abruptly jumped out of the freezing water. My toes turned into a blue that reminded me of the blueberry muffins from breakfast that morning. My body shivered as I exited the lake and threw on a warm towel over my shoulders. Gradually my body heat increased, escaping the risk of hypothermia. At that point, I just wanted to go home. My family and I gathered all our belongings and I dragged my energyless body into the large, gray shuttle. The shuttle smelled of sweat from previous passengers. It drove us down a rough, bumpy trail, causing my tall father to constantly slam his head on the roof of the car. After we finally got back to our hotel, we all let off a sigh of
As I inched my way toward the cliff, my legs were shaking uncontrollably. I could feel the coldness of the rock beneath my feet when my toes curled around the edge in one last futile attempt at survival. My heart was racing like a trapped bird, desperate to escape. Gazing down the sheer drop, I nearly fainted; my entire life flashed before my eyes. I could hear stones breaking free and fiercely tumbling down the hillside, plummeting into the dark abyss of the forbidding black water. The trees began to rapidly close in around me in a suffocating clench, and the piercing screams from my friends did little to ease the pain. The cool breeze felt like needles upon my bare skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps. The threatening mountains surrounding me seemed to grow more sinister with each passing moment, I felt myself fighting for air. The hot summer sun began to blacken while misty clouds loomed overhead. Trembling with anxiety, I shut my eyes, murmuring one last pathetic prayer. I gathered my last breath, hoping it would last a lifetime, took a step back and plun...
My heart was racing and my legs were burning as we ascended. I kept waiting for the view to open up as the fog, clouds, and mist continued to cloak our group. After a grueling 12,000 feet and five hours into our trek, we saw snow and ice. At 12,000 feet, last night’s rain had turned into ice at this high altitude. We were struggling against the adverse conditions, working as a team but only able to progress another 1,000 feet up. Ben told us that he decided it was not safe to proceed further.
My legs ache from this long, treacherous hike. As I walk up the rocky, steep trail, my feet start to slip, but I regain balance before I fall. I shiver from the extremely cold temperatures, and my body starts to go numb. Soon I realize, my body can not take this hike for much longer. When I find a nice place to rest and make camp, I pray that there are no bears or other predators that are looking for a feast. Just as I was about to get some sleep, I hear a loud noise, coming from the mountains. I look over and see an avalanche coming down straight towards me. I grab all my stuff and start running the other way, trying my hardest to get away from the rocks tumbling towards me. This extreme place is located in the Rocky Mountain Range, and is the highest point in Colorado and the rocky mountain range.Mount Elbert has an impact on animal's, temperature, and the steepness and extremeness of the mountain.
While you may have stood reverently in the midst of towering redwood trees, gazed in awe at the magnificence of a statuesque mountain, or happened upon a crystal clear alpine lake, there is no experience quite so ethereal as a lotus field at dawn. Freshly killed rabbits cooking on ceramic hibachis send tendrils of smoke curling upward from the fire, as though the animals’ spirits are reaching for each other under the low haze that presses down across the darkness of the water. Whispers, and the gentle stirring of the water against the raised stone path, signal the arrival of those tending the ponds of tall leafy plants, as if they were ghosts moving toward the light- following in the footsteps of generations gone before.
Sitting in the back seat between two towering piles of clothes and snacks we drive up the abandoned streets of Adell. I see vast open fields of corn and dense wooded forest filled with life, along with the occasional, towering grain house. We pull into a dry, dusty, driveway of rock and thriving, overgrown weeds. We come up to an aged log cabin with a massive crab apple tree with its sharp thorns like claws. The ancient weeping willow provides, with is huge sagging arms, shade from the intense rays of the sun. Near the back of the house there is a rotten, wobbly dock slowly rotting in the dark blue, cool water. Near that we store our old rusted canoes, to which the desperate frogs hop for shelter. When I venture out to the water I feel the thick gooey mud squish through my toes and the fish mindlessly try to escape but instead swim into my legs. On the lively river banks I see great blue herring and there attempt to catch a fish for their dinner. They gracefully fly with their beautiful wings arching in the sun to silvery points.
The ruckus from the bottom of the truck is unbearable, because of the noise and excessive shaking. As we slowly climbed the mountain road to reach our lovely cabin, it seemed almost impossible to reach the top, but every time we reached it safely. The rocks and deep potholes shook the truck and the people in it, like a paint mixer. Every window in the truck was rolled down so we could have some leverage to hold on and not loose our grip we needed so greatly. The fresh clean mountain air entered the truck; it smelt as if we were lost: nowhere close to home. It was a feeling of relief to get away from all the problems at home. The road was deeply covered with huge pines and baby aspen trees. Closely examining the surrounding, it looks as if it did the last time we were up here.
Away from the immense sea, white foams from the waves gather gently onto the golden shore. Now, half of a glowing, radiant light looms across the water 's horizon. The sea turns blood-red and darkness creeps up like a thief. The necklace that once reflected its passionate energy of fury moments ago now resembled a mere costume jewellery. Perhaps the loss of the necklace’s elegance and sophistication was the reason to why it was disregarded. Pity the owner did not see the necklace radiating its splendour at its peak. Anyhow, the nightfall creates a sensation of joy and tranquillity in me. Every sight and sound stimulates a sense of composure and serenity; and the effect is heightened by the absence of the noisy bustle of our daily work, only to be exposed to the never-ending music of the waves, and to breathe the fresh air instead of the stale atmosphere of classrooms. It is not easy to describe the effect of this sight; it can only be strangely deciphered in my mind. It is however, a very tangible and distinct emotion, though its allure really depends upon the reality of the world from a further point of view, away from the definite predictabilities of the world, all in which an instant becomes like a translucent drape which almost consents me to catch a glimpse of a ideal and more breath-taking reality. The worldly desires, expectations, worries, schemes, suddenly cease to exist. It is as though all of
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
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.
It’s a beautiful morning, as my group of friends and I wake up, we hear the pounding and the thrashing of the water slamming on the moss covered granite rock, I go down the eroded leaf covered pathway to fetch water just like I would do every morning, the sun had just begun to rise, the mixture of scarlet red, orange, and a bleach-like yellow beaming against the hurried water of the river that led into the waterfall shone like flakes of gold floating on top of the whitening water. The serene environment of the surrounding rocks overlooking the waterfall, the ambience of water clashing against the granite, and the aroma of the white pine filling the forest is an awe inspiring experience to all who dare make their way down the narrow and lengthy
Fortunately, I wake every morning to the most beautiful sun lit house. I sit on my porch sipping coffee, while I drink in an atmosphere that steals my breath away. Rolling hills lay before me that undulate until they crash into golden purple mountains. Oh how they are covered in spectacular fauna, ever blooming foliage, and trees that are heavy with pungent fruit. Green it is always so green here at my house. Here where the air lays heavy and cool on my skin as does the striking rays of the sun upon my cheeks. I know in my soul why I choose to be here every day. Pocketed in all the nooks and crannies of these valleys and hills are stately homes, rich with architecture resplendent. Diversity is the palate here; ...