“I have a surprise for you!” Jack yelled as he pushed open the door to his modest, one-bedroom apartment that he shared with his wife, Taylor. They were both still young, so they could not afford a huge extravagant house in the country, but they were happy to live in the hustle and bustle of the loud New York.
“What is it?” responded Taylor, peeking around the corner from the kitchen. She was trying to stifle her amusement at Jack’s excitement.
“In honor of our one year anniversary, we are going camping!”
“Camping? Where? We live in the middle of the city!”
“We are going to drive to the Appalachian Mountains, about forty-five minutes from here! It will take about 4 days: two days up, two days down.” Jack seemed so excited, Taylor could not possibly say no. She had always loved adventure, so she thought she would give hiking a try.
A couple weeks later, Taylor was frantically running around the apartment making sure they had everything they needed. Jack was standing at the door, laughing. Finally they were going to leave for the trip they had been eagerly anticipating. Once they reached the mountains, they parked their car and bundled up to prepare for the cold, winter weather they were in. They had read magazines, articles, and blogs about what to do and what not to do while going hiking for a few days. They believed that they were experts. But no column of National Geographic could have prepared them for this.
Jack and Taylor made their way deeper and deeper into the ridges of the Appalachian Mountains. Night came, and they had made a substantial amount of progress during their first day of hiking. They set up camp and tried to stay warm with blankets and a fire. The next morning, they woke up to a sheet of snow covering ...
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...ake out someone outside of the tent. They instantly knew that they had finally found the lost couple.
They got out their ropes and rescue equipment and quickly got Taylor and Jack into the safety of the helicopter. Jack and Taylor thanked God and cried tears of joy for their unbelievable rescue. They took the couple straight to the hospital because they were terribly malnourished. Two weeks in the snow with barely any food definitely took a toll on them, especially Taylor. Their friends were just happy that Jack and Taylor were safe and going to be okay.
The next day they were free to go home. They immediately crashed on the couch, without even taking their shoes off. Jack looked at Taylor and mumbled, “I am never ever going camping again.”
“Agreed,” responded Taylor, letting out a little laugh. And they have not been back to the Appalachian Mountains ever since.
He fig-ured that the normal half hour walk home might take as long as two hours in snow this deep. And then there was the wind and the cold to contend with. The wind was blowing across the river and up over the embankment making the snow it carried colder and wetter than the snow blanketing the ground. He would have to use every skill he’d learned, living in these hills, to complete the journey without getting lost, freezing to death, or at the very least ending up with a severe case of frostbite be-fore he made it back to Ruby.
In the spring of 1805 the Lewis and Clark expedition decides to take off. But on there way a sudden storm approaches and n...
Is Bill Bryson, the author of a Walk in the Woods, an Appalachian Trail hiker? To most people, the only type of AT hiker is someone who hikes it all at once, also known as a “thru hiker.” Bryson has hiked a large amount of the AT, along with Katz, and has come across many obstacles along the way. He has encountered a bear, obnoxious hikers, and especially harsh weather conditions. None of these hurdles have seemed to stop Bryson. They have reduced his progress but have not stopped him completely by any means. Critics have expressed their irritation with Bryson and his negativity towards all of the impediments on the trail. For example, one critic said, “As a hiker laying in a strategy to thru-hike the AT in a couple years, I was looking forward to a light and lively tale. Boy was I disappointed. Grumping about the cold, rain, mud, vermin, tourons, monotony, ugly people and places, and an inept hiking partner didn't let up.” (Anonymous: A Protracted Whine. Book review of A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson. November 2, 2007) Although many tough critics do not consider him to be an AT trail hiker, he should be considered an AT hiker because he has hiked most of the trail and has written a best-selling novel to inform people of his long, vigorous journey.
Dani and I stand in the sun waiting for the “men” to catch up. The view was worth Quill’s whining and navigating through the snow. The breeze catches in the bright green and gold of new Aspen leaves whispering around the lake. The Pine trees scent the air and bask in the sun to steal its warmth from the forest below. The trees are a dark canopy along our path permitting only a few patches of the raised finely mulched trail to a beam or two of sun. Framed like a photo three pencil lead gray peaks rise above a lower sweeping curve of pines. They look close enough to walk over the ridge and touch them. Boulders precariously cling to the side of the mountains. The perfect deep blue early summer sky is the perfect backdrop.
Bryson creates figurative language in the form of personification to describe the majesty of the Appalachian Mountains and support his argument that nature is underappreciated. By personifying the formation of the continents, Bryson highlights the alluring geological cycles of the Appalachians. “The continents didn’t just move in and out…but spun in lazy circles, changed their orientation, went on cruises to the tropics and poles, made friends with smaller land masses and brought them home” (272). Bryson uses phrases like “spun in lazy circles,” “went on cruises,” and “made friends…and brought them home,” to make the process more relatable. These expressions are easily recognized and allow the reader to imagine this complex scene in simple
"What did they do in the movies when they got stranded like this? Oh, yes, the hero usually found some kind of plant that he knew was good to eat and that took care of it." He dreams and craves of substantial food and yells out “I’m Hungry”. Thinking about hamburgers and milkshakes, but was convinced he would only be here a couple days before someone comes to rescue him. "The scenery was very pretty, he thought, but it was all a green and blue blur and he was used to the gray and black of the city, the sounds of the city. Traffic, people talking, sounds all the time—the hum and whine of the city." He realizes that he took the simplicity and convenience of the civilized world for granted. When he encounters the bear while picking raspberries he cowers with fear and runs away until he realises that the bear doesn't want to harm him and his conception of a bear that kills people was wrong. Brian reached his breaking point where he couldn't handle it anymore. “They would never return. He would never leave now, never get out of here. He went down to his knees and felt the tears start, cutting through the smoke and ash on his face,
They left by the sunrise and managed to make it far from their houses. All went fine until Jake suddenly screamed… He had fell from a steep and hurt his ankle.
The bus came to a halt, and one by one we filed out into a parking lot. We grabbed our canteens and began the one-mile trail to the top of one of the mountains. I was one of the first people to reach the peak, and waiting for us was a notebook. We opened it to find the names of everyone who has ever reached the peak. I smiled to myself as I wrote in big letters “Kim Walton” and started back down the mountain. It was much easier and faster than going up, and everyone was really excited to see where we were going next.
survivors. First of all, the Andes setting was basically what kept the survivors from being found by an airplane. The snow covered mountains blended to the roof of the ...
We all grabbed our lawn chairs and cozied up next to the roaring red fire. I always sat a little too close, enough to where the fire burnt a hole straight through my favorite pair of flip-flops, assuring me to never make that mistake again. S’mores was all of our favorite bed time snack time and a perfect way to end the night. Every time I would roast my marshmallow until it became slightly brown, mushy, and not too hot in the center; then I 'd put it between two graham crackers and extra pieces of chocolate. One too many s’mores and a belly like later I laid back in my chair and listened as Nancy told us stories. Before going to bed Nancy told us about her favorite past times here as a child and how just like the little girl we saw fishing, she was also afraid of fishing. She told us stories about how much the campground has evolved since she was a child and how every year she promises to take us here and to keep it a tradition. At bedtime Alicia and I crawl into our tents and snuggle up in our warm sleeping bags. We talked to each other about how sad we felt that it was almost the end of summer, and how nervous we felt to start our freshman year of high school. However, our conversations ended when Nancy yelled at as from the other tent to keep quiet and go to bed. I’d fallen asleep that night to the sound of the fire crackling out and the crickets chirping
Tyler suggested, "Let's take a hike." We all agreed to that, because it sounded fun.
By 4 PM we had conquered most of the peaks. As we were climbing what we thought was our sixth peak, Big Red, a storm struck. It was a cold driving rain that froze us as we struggled up the mountain. We reached the top jubilant, but exhausted. As the crew tried to get a bearing I came to the slow realization that we were not on Big Red, but another peak. We had two peaks to climb, and in freezing rain! With no options, we hiked on.
I awoke to the sun piercing through the screen of my tent while stretching my arms out wide to nudge my friend Alicia to wake up. “Finally!” I said to Alicia, the countdown is over. As I unzip the screen door and we climb out of our tent, I’m embraced with the aroma of campfire burritos that Alicia’s mom Nancy was preparing for us on her humungous skillet. While we wait for our breakfast to be finished, me and Alicia, as we do every morning, head to the front convenient store for our morning french vanilla cappuccino. On our walk back to the campsite we always take a short stroll along the lake shore to admire the incandescent sun as it shines over the gleaming dark blue water. This has become a tradition that we do every
As the two men hiked, they came upon many rugged trails and hills that were difficult to overcome, however they did it together and kept moving on. The view from the trail was beautiful with many places to stop and admire the view, but they couldn’t seem to get above the canopy of the trees to truly take in the whole view. The man that strove to see the beautiful scenery from an unobstructed viewpoint was trying in every way to get above what was around him to see the true beauty of the mountains.
As I walked I let my eyes close and my feet feel the groove in the gravel. My mind, still asleep, dreamt of breathing. The lining of my father's old coat escaped inside the pockets and caught my fingers, which were numb from the cold. I would have worn gloves but the sun would be unbearable later in the day. The clouds would rise over the mountains and disappear and the birds would slowly become silent as the heat settled in. But for now it was just cold. I tried to warm my neck by breathing down the collar. It smelled like diesel and sweat.