Personal Narrative: The Effects Of Snow On The Beach

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I race down the mountain that has been covered with a thick blanket of snow with my dad at my side. I stop, and I see a large freestyle terrain course coming up. "Keep straight, Dad," I holler. "I want to go on the trick course." I ski down and wait for Dad.
After he finally arrives, I follow him to the first bump.
"Make sure you don't go too fast, and don't do too big of a fall!" he shrieks as rides. I'm scared to death but, my eyes somehow droop. Two weeks ago, I skied blue. The snow looked like a drop straight down, a death sentence. But when I skied down I had no fear, skiing was regular, and now I also know the hill did not go straight down, even if it seems to. As my eyes open again, I know that I can do it.

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