Snow Day in the Ice yesterday was Wednesday January 20, 2016. Yesterday was a great day. Carter, Cameron, and I decided to hang out at cameron’s house. After we got there we came to the conclusion that we should go and walk on the ice. We figured the ice would be thick enough for us to walk on and boy were we wrong. We first started our journey in cameron’s backyard where his creek is. We then began walking and everything was going perfectly fine until we got to a certain bridge where the creek got much deeper. Once we got past that certain bridge, Cameron and I both knew it is very deep because we’ve been walking that creek for years. We guessed it was past our waist by this time if the year. Since I had waterproof boots on I took the lead
SOI-The purpose of this creative piece of writing is an entry from one of our hockey games from tournament. I have tried to use a connection to compare battle or war to hockey, to make the story become more brutal and realistic. I have written in first person to show that it is in my perspective and what I recollect from the game.
At 6pm on a Saturday evening, Sally and her parents were on their way to go skiing for their 20th time. The whole family was extremely excited and looking forward to this, especially since the place was somewhere they’d never been to before. As they were in the car, Sally was daydreaming about what the place would look like, and wondered if her worst fear would be there: ski lifts. Everything about this scared her. The car is out in the open, has no roof, and the ride could malfunction at any time. Since this unanswered question was on her mind now, she decided to ask her parents to see if they knew. “I’m just wondering, do either of you know if there are going to be ski lifts at the place?” Both of her parents paused in confusion but didn’t
We hit a down hill point so we grabbed drift wood. It would save man power and be faster to sled down. The rest helped Landon out the most because he was the smallest so he didn 't have energy left to use. But this refreshed him so we could keep going. Time was not on are side. The only thing keeping us alive was the fact that if we got out we would be the first ones ever to make it out not dead. It was about the hottest point in the day now and we had to find shade or we would get to dehydrated and die. We drank all the water we had just to fine out that we had a under ground stream below
Out of the 12 months of the year, students basically only have about two months to have fun and not worry about school. As a teenager, you do things without predicting the outcome. We tend to not always listen to our parents and sometimes end up in terrible situations.
There are a few things in my life I could use to write a narrative off of, one that could really strike my mind would probably be snowboarding, not even just the aspect of snowboarding but how it is something you have the ability to do to and kind of use it as a coping mechanism, just something that lets you be at peace with yourself and not worry about anything else in the world. If you were to ask a skier or another snowboarder about the feeling I am talking about. The one where you are going up the lift for the first time of the year or even before you are about to have a nice run from the summit where you are just sitting at the top before you go down the mountain and you are just one with yourself and the mountain
When most people hear the word hockey, they think about skating, ice, and a puck. What most people do not think about is running, the blistering heat, and a small orange ball, however, I do. That is because I play dek hockey, not ice, meaning that we run, and our season is never over. Playing hockey is my favorite thing to do, and I have so many fond memories. Some of those memories are, playing hockey at Bill’s Golfland, U.S.A. Ball Hockey Tryouts, and playing at Penn Hills Dek Hockey.
Running threw the woods on a hot scorching summer day with a muddy trail of footprints following me. Salado Creek was more than just a creek for us when we were younger; it was a never-ending trail in the woods that ran from the north side to south side of San Antonio, Texas. The creek had many parts to explore some as swampy as Florida and others as dry as Arizona. Salado Creek is full of story’s from my friends and I childhood, from sixth grade to eighth we would often explore its dark natural beauty’s and run around its never ending narrow trails.
I was born and raised on snowmobiles. I remember times when I would fall asleep in front of my parents and, being able to ride by myself when I was 5 till now. All the trips my family has been on in four states and we are talking about going to the mountains this year. Being able to ride around here with all my friends see who can go the biggest jump.
It all started off that Mia and her brother teddy had a snow day. Their mom made them a nice breakfast. This was the first time in a while that they all eat a meal together as a family. After they eat, they decided to go on drive. As they were driving, they were talking about where Mia will go to college.
stood upon, was frightening. The only was to go was down. I took a deep
“I am sorry, but we must get to the other side as fast as possible so you need to work.” There was no argument to this so Greg started gingerly placing the boards for the bridge. When he finished around two hours after noon we started transporting our gear little by little. It was slow and took a long time when we finished it was almost dusk. Greg was on the other side of the canyon. Sir Lancelot took the rest of the gear to the other side and then Sir Gawain went. I took up the rear holding a seax knife in my belt and a small package of food. The bridge started to creak near the end and then a cracking noise could be heard which made both me and Gawain break into a run. The bridge collapsed under our feet and fell into the abyss below. Sir Gawain leapt and got a hand on the ledge and was quickly pulled up by Greg and Lancelot. I managed to grab a rope and hold on, but hit the wall of the canyon hard and Ialmost let go of the rope. Sir Lancelot grabbed but the force pulling it down was too much. Sir Gawain and Greg soon helped him but they could only stop me from
Hunching a shoulder against the stiff wind, I took a deep breath of thin mountain air and looked out over the spectacular vista of craggy peaks and brilliant sky, feeling more than a little sorry for myself. Behind me lay five steep miles and hours of hiking that had started in the predawn blackness; my legs were numb and my hands tinged icy blue, but somehow there were still two cruel miles between me and the rugged summit of Mount Yale. I was toying with the idea of sitting down for a long rest when the clouds cleared and I caught a glimpse of my goal through the mist. That did it, I thought, and forced myself to pick up the pace. Step by step, I ground upwards, doggedly ignoring the increasingly desperate pleas of my legs and lungs. “Almost there - almost there - almost there,” I repeated to myself like a mantra, and after a million forevers I was there.
Seven years ago, My mother had gotten into a car accident. I remember that night like it was yesterday, it was January 16, Martin Luther King Jr day, that night we were expected to get a snow storm. I remember watching the news and listening to the Wood T.V. 8 weather reporter say,
I was intimidated. Actually, let me be honest, I feared a thrashing at the hands of the River God. Trembling muscles warned me to just shoulder my boat and walk. I couldn't. I traveled all the way from Pennsylvania to run these rivers, how could I back out now? I had to run Sunshine Falls...the largest rapid on the Royal Gorge section of the Arkansas River. When would I make it back to Colorado to run this river? I considered the the portage again; it's an impressive drop with no shame in walking. But what if they dam the Arkansas?
Thin air encompasses me as I commence the final day of skiing at Vail, Colorado. Seven days of skiing elapse rather painlessly; I fall occasionally but an evening in the Jacuzzi soothes my minor aches. Closing time approaches on the final day of our trip as I prepare myself for the final run of the vacation. Fresh off the ski lift, I coast toward the junction of trails on the unoccupied expert face of the mountain. After a moment of thought, I confidently select a narrow trail so steep that only the entrance can be seen from my viewpoint.