There was an enervating feeling as my three friends and I rode our bikes into the woods when I was nine years old. I had grown up with those woods as my neighbor, and my father had built a treehouse for me in those woods the previous summer. The woods were a completely comfortable place for me. In fact, at nine years old I could probably draw a map of those woods and place every tree in about the right spot. Everything from the way the air settled around my friends and me, to the missing animal noises screamed at us to turn around and go back home. However, we continued to move forward, and honestly I was rather fervent to move forward. When we were near the large pond in the middle of the woods we noticed an amorphous lump sitting beside it. We didn’t normally go near the pond, it was always a bit frightening to us. Immediately our bike ride came to a halt, and we all tossed our bikes on the ground. The wheels on the bikes continued turning and the clicking sound of the wheels turning continued behind us as we walked forward curiously. Elle -- my most perspicacious friend -- stopped in her tracks. “Maybe we should go home.” her soft voice blew through the air. The only reply to her suggestion was the rest of us continuing forward. …show more content…
The time seemed to move like molasses, but at the same time it moved quickly and fluidly like water. I was a couple yards away from the figure with my friends close behind when I figured out what it was. I completely stopped. There was no way that it was what i thought it was. My brain and my eyes were lying to me, at least that’s what I thought before I cautiously walked forward. There was this putrid smell that seemed to assault my nose. When I was only two feet away I didn’t walk forward anymore. The figure was still the same thing I thought it was. I rubbed my eyes as if what I was seeing wasn’t really there and would just disappear with a sweep over the
The wilderness allows people to escape the crazy hectic lives they live daily and just unwind. Chris McCandless was “ unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart,” throughout his soul-searching journey in the wilderness (Krakauer 31). Many people like Chris will experience different sensations in the serene wilderness, however it calls
There is a serene moment when reading John Muir “A Windstorm in the forests,” that rushed through me. Which can only be described as a rush of emotions that one might face when returning home after traveling for so long. I feel that this response is so far harder to write than I could have imagined it to be because the forest Muir is describing within his story, within the Sierra Nevada is one that I grew up with. The same ones that I spent my summers and winter breaks at, I feel a slight struggle when trying to describe my response because I didn’t realize how much I miss all of that and how many of my memories are surrounded by that forest. Reading Muir story brought back the images of seeing stretches of land covered in an endless amount
I rushed out to the truck as the horn blared. I threw my things into the truck and we went off towards the woods. I had to talk to Kevin about where the deer come from when i am sitting in the stand. He told me everything I needed to know about the place less than 10 minutes in the hot and humid truck. Well let's go back to see what led to this.
The time spent there became more about meeting family friends and going to dinners. Almost four years passed before I returned to the memory of getting lost in those woods. It was a week before the start to my junior year of high school, and I was visiting my grandparents in Virginia. One morning, after a very early breakfast and a promise to return promptly, I walked outside toward the woods. I walked aimlessly, remembering the similar trips I used to make in the forest upstate. I saw a young kid, eager to dirty his hands with exploration of the tangible world. I was older now, and my summer had been spent exploring a possible career path by interning at a financial services firm. A sudden thought crept slowly into my mind, piecing itself together before my
It was the middle of October, and it was finally time for my long awaited moose hunt. I have waited ever since I was a little girl for this opportunity, and it was finally here. So, my father and I packed up our stuff and left the warmth of Phoenix. We were leaving the "Valley of the Sun" and headed for a place called Wyoming. After two days and fourteen long hours of driving, we made it to our hunting unit.
Many people think up north is fun, I am not any different . The ride to get up there took one hour. When we got up there we unpacked and ate burgers for lunch. After we were done eating, we went to go get gas for my friend´s dirt bike and go-kart. When we got to the gas station, we saw our other friend Justin After we got back from getting gas, me and Travis filled up his go kart and dirt bike with gas. When they both were done getting filled, Travis got in the go-kart and I got on the dirt bike.
One day, there was a man, walking through the woods to get back home. The man had quite a way to go to get back home but, it was getting late, and all he had was a flashlight, a small knife, and a video recorder. The man was hearing weirder and weirder noises as he was walking, he was also starting to see weird shapes in the distance, almost as if it was a tall thin man looking at him with tentacle like things coming out of his back, and spreading in the air.
I almost fell off a cliff on the side of a mountain. I was in Pitkin, Colorado, on a camping trip during the summer of 2009. The trees were green, the air was fresh so were the lakes, rivers, and ponds were stocked with fish and wildlife was everywhere. Usually, on these camping trips, I would be accompanied by a large number of people. However, this time, it was just my parents, my three brothers, and my two sisters. I was almost 12 years old at the time and having three older brothers made me very competitive. Naturally, when my family decided to climb one of the mountain’s which were around us, I wanted to be the first one to reach its peak.
In hiking, as in life, there are choices between success and pain, pride and safety; this is the story of one such choice. Last summer I participated in the Rayado program at Philmont Scout Ranch. The eighth day of the trek was my crew’s greatest challenge: Super Black Death, a hike of seven peaks in one day.
My favorite memory was when I shot my first buck. It was Saturday October 8th and the first day of the youth hunt. My dad and I were sitting in the two man ladder stand facing the hayfield. The sun was setting, when a lonely deer came walking out of the woods. I raised up the gun and rested it on the bar that comes over the top of you to protect you from faling out of the treestand.
Walking through the woods never fails to clear my mind. After spending all day sitting in a stale classroom, filled with stress, confusion, and overwhelming responsibilities, taking a long stroll through the familiar woods behind my grandmother’s house lifts any worries that could ever weigh me down. I never wander through aimlessly. I always follow the trail of grass that has been deliberately cut down shorter than the rest, making it easier to tread through to the small creek at the end of the trail. The entire journey through the woods behind my grandmother’s house, there and back, first took on a whole new importance in my life during my junior year of high school.
Being in the presence of nature makes a man forget any problem they could have and brings them the happiness, worriless joy of a child. He believes that being in the woods returns a person to reason and faith, that “nothing can befall me in life-no disgrace, no calamity… which nature cannot repair.”
We slowly crept around the corner, finally sneaking a peek at our cabin. As I hopped out of the front seat of the truck, a sharp sense of loneliness came over me. I looked around and saw nothing but the leaves on the trees glittering from the constant blowing wind. Catching myself standing staring around me at all the beautiful trees, I noticed that the trees have not changed at all, but still stand tall and as close as usual. I realized that the trees surrounding the cabin are similar to the being of my family: the feelings of never being parted when were all together staying at our cabin.
A State Forest & nbsp; Last autumn, while on a trip, I decided to walk through a State Forest. This huge forest enriches the countryside not far from town and was a place where Indians held hunting rights until recently. Little streams, ancient trees, shaded paths, and hidden places are some of the physical attributes that make the State Forest an enchanting place. & nbsp; I wandered leisurely along the shadowy paths, enjoying the peaceful surroundings. With only the songs of birds for company, I felt completely isolated from the crowds and traffic as I walked over the deep carpet of leaves. It had begun to rain a little when I first started my journey.
The familiarity of the woods, the natural urges my body has to be outside and be active in the setting that most people in today’s society only truly see in movies, if that, reminds me of other ventures into the woods, the citrusy smell of pine mixed with the smells of wild grasses and various flowers create an unmatched bombardment of scents. These scents stimulate the mind in a calming way unlike any medication or music ever could. The aroma of the forest sends chills down my spine, causing you to get the urge to explore and to absorb yourself in to the natural wonders the human body