Joy Ride

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Joy Ride When I was around five years old, my family lived in Westerlo, New York (a town near Albany). One day my parents told my older sister and brother and me to load up in our big blue blazer to go for a ride. We loved going for rides on the weekends, but this time was more exciting. My parents had made plans to look at a house they were wanting to buy, but what I thought was going to be a nice ride through the hills turned into one of my most frightening memories as a child. The day seemed perfect. The sun was shining through the fluffy white clouds in the sky. The leaves on the trees had turned colors and were beautiful to watch from the windows. We traveled up and down hills like we were riding a roller coaster. When we finally arrived at our destination, we slowed down and pulled over into a small parking area at the top of a large hill. My parents opened the doors and stepped out warning us, “Stay inside the blazer and do not touch anything.” We wanted to go with them, but there was a steep hill to climb and they said they...

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