Personal Narrative: White Water Rafting
I remember a time in my life not too long ago when my family and I went white water rafting for the first time. We had been spending some of our summer vacation at a cabin in the Smokey Mountains, close to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. The next day we would experience feelings of exhilarating excitement, with a sense of suspense and anticipation as we rafted down the Nantahala River.
I recall in vivid detail the scenery around us as we embarked on our perilous journey down the Nantahala. We arrived at the drop-off point in the early afternoon the next day. The sweet smell of fresh pine trees was floating in the air and a soft midsummer breeze was brushing against our faces. After receiving directions and safety precautions from our rafting instructor, we geared up, boarded our raft, and set out for our voyage down the treacherous Nantahala. Sharing the experience with me were my mother, aunt, uncle, and cousin; along with out rafting guide. We were all ready for a fun and safe ride down the Nantahala.
As we started to slowly drift down the river, seemingly inch by inch, I began to have feelings of disappointment. I had been planning on a more hazardous and fast-paced ride. The water was crystal clear and almost as flat as a sheet of glass. There was only a very mild current and being as impatient as I was, it appeared to me that we weren’t even moving.
Eventually, the current became a little stronger and the ride a little swifter. My feelings of disappointment slowly vanished and feelings of excitement and exhilaration took their place. As the terrain surrounding us became more rocky and rough, so did the river. It was no longer calm and clear like a mountain lake, but more whi...
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...e became more and more overcome with suspense and anticipation. Before we plunged to the bottom, we noticed a kayak broken in two pieces. It had been caused by a collision with a boulder, at the bottom of the fall. We were scared to death, because we thought we would hit it and flip over. However, with the help of our fast-thinking and skillful guide, we were able to make it down the fall safely. All the action was over, so we let out a sigh of relief and allowed our nerves to relax.
As if to conclude our white water rafting adventure, members of my family began recalling which parts of trip they liked the most and which parts they disliked. My family and I decided that we enjoyed the trip and would like to do it again if we got the chance. We all had a lot of fun and got a chance to be together. I learned how fun, dangerous, and scary rafting can be.
Consequently, the ride was more enjoyable. The curves became more familiar to me, causing me to realize there was more room than I thought, which made the ride much more enjoyable. When the group reached the timberline we stopped to look at the magnificent scenery. At the timberline there seemed to be an abundance of trees.
My first view of the river makes me breathless. Shallow water washes over the road’s cement pavement. Men, women, and kids break the river’s flow; some sit in fold-up chairs and read a book, but most
I wasn’t even outside but I could feel the warm glow the sun was projecting all across the campsite. It seemed as if the first three days were gloomy and dreary, but when the sun on the fourth day arose, it washed away the heartache I had felt. I headed out of the trailer and went straight to the river. I walked to the edge, where my feet barely touched the icy water, and I felt a sense of tranquility emanate from the river. I felt as if the whole place had transformed and was back to being the place I loved the most. That day, when we went out on the boat, I went wakeboarding for the first time without my grandma. While I was up on the board and cutting through the wake of the boat, it didn’t feel like the boat was the one pulling and guiding me, it felt like the river was pushing and leading me. It was always nice to receive the reassurance from my grandma after wakeboarding, but this time I received it from my surroundings. The trees that were already three times the size of me, seemed to stand even taller as I glided past them on the river. The sun encouraged me with its brightness and warmth, and the River revitalized me with its powerful currents. The next three days passed by with ease, I no longer needed to reminisce of what my trips used to be like. Instead, I could be present in the moment, surrounded by the beautiful natural
Twain describes that as he controlled the steamboat longer and memorized the dynamics of the river, he began to feel as if he had lost something valuable to himself. These attributes included his grace, his poetic voice, and his love for the majestic river (1). Twain tried to ignore this sense of loss and boredom by picturing a sunset he had seen one evening while steamboating. However, this does not cease the ambivalent feelings, and his feelings about the river digress.
I was in a lake house in lake Gaston with my family. With my dad and my brother. My Brother was 17 and my dad was 39.
Surprisingly, our parents had beaten us to the top and we all stopped in awe, mesmerized by the great waterfall in front of us. My mouth felt like the Sahara desert. I vividly remember reaching for the chilling water bottle that hid underneath the tons of clothes stuffed in my father’s black backpack to quench my thirst. I took off my beaten down shoes and stinky socks covered in dirt from the trail and blood from the blisters on my feet and dove into the refreshing lake. After swimming through the lake for a few seconds, I abruptly jumped out of the freezing water. My toes turned into a blue that reminded me of the blueberry muffins from breakfast that morning. My body shivered as I exited the lake and threw on a warm towel over my shoulders. Gradually my body heat increased, escaping the risk of hypothermia. At that point, I just wanted to go home. My family and I gathered all our belongings and I dragged my energyless body into the large, gray shuttle. The shuttle smelled of sweat from previous passengers. It drove us down a rough, bumpy trail, causing my tall father to constantly slam his head on the roof of the car. After we finally got back to our hotel, we all let off a sigh of
I love camping and spending time outside, but this summer I had a completely new experience when I visited the Boundary Waters Canoe Area. Before leaving, I had very little knowledge of the Boundary Waters. After getting advice from friends and purchasing some special equipment, I realized that camping there was going to be much more complicated than I had thought.
For instance, the article demonstrates this idea when E.B. White writes, “…I was always the first up I would dress softly so as not to wake the others, and sneak out into the sweet outdoors and start out on the canoe….” ( ) As children all are looking for adventure because most children contain an imaginary mindset and high energy level. In the context of the quote the man reminisces how he would go canoeing in the morning without anyone knowing. It can be inferred that as a child he enjoyed the feeling of adventure and independence that he experienced during this time. Consequently, by going back to a place where childhood memories were made, one has the ability to resurrect that sense of adventure in which they once held. Likewise, in comparison to one’s life the sense of adventure can be remembered and be revitalized. For instance, one summer at the lake my brother, sister, and I decided to make a raft and sail across the cove. Sailing the raft was a group effort that required all to help, the feeling of adventure was felt as the travelers neared the opposite side and the strive for adventure was met. The trip across the cove was a success and every year since, the same raft has been used to relive the very first adventure and remind one of the provoking feelings one gained. Although time has elapsed and the
When I was in the seventh grade, our class went on a field trip to Cherokee, North Carolina. The trip lasted four days and three nights, but the adventure would last a lifetime. The experience allowed me to learn many things about myself and to reflect on the beauty that was all around me. We departed at six-thirty in the morning, and I was so excited. I had never been away on a school trip for longer than a few hours. I tossed my purple duffel bag into the storage compartment, found my seat by the window, and prepared for what I knew would surely be an unforgettable adventure.
Without delay, I sunk right back in the water. My doubts began coming back to me, making me realize I might of been over my head on this one, but I persisted. I reached surface again and began swimming towards the rightmost shore. It wasn’t the best journey, as I kept bobbing in and out of the water, but I managed to reach the shore. The moment I got stood back on my own feet I stood back on them as a new man; I enjoyed the danger I just experienced, besides drinking a hefty amount of lake
Marc lowered the boat as fast as he could, trying to get away from the pushy sunburned group of men approaching. When the lifeboat hit the water my heart sunk, there was nothing around us. I had no idea where I was, let alone where the nearest body of land was located. Looking back, I think Marc miscalculated the distance between the lifeboat and large cruise ship. He jumped towards the lifeboat, but upon his landing, a wave swept me and the boat further
Going out west last summer was one of the most exciting and interesting things I have ever done in my life. When my mom first told me about the trip I was only really excited about going on the airplane. But when we got there, I was in for a big surprise.
An event in my life that is memorable would be when my Uncle Bob and I decided to go scuba diving. In our adventure, Uncle Bob was bitten by a five-foot bull shark and later at 70ft below sea level he ran out of air. These events have taught me that scuba diving can be a dangerous activity, that I must be aware of my surroundings, to refresh my scuba training and to remember safety techniques.
As I walked down the worn dirt path to the ocean, I was astonished by how many people were lounging by the water.. As I got closer to the water’s edge, I contemplated why more people don 't swim and decide to tan in the sun instead. The feeling of being alone with the ocean and my thoughts played in my mind.
Towards the end of 1989, my family and I were on vacation in Fort Myers, Florida. We drove from Trenton, New Jersey all the way to Florida where my grandfather lived. It was a long trip to undergo, especially being six years old and knowing that my father never stopped the car. By the time we arrived at Fort Myers, it was a beautiful sunny day. The wind was gusting enough to pull my hair back, and I was admiring the palm trees, coconuts, and lizards near the Gulf of Mexico. The first few days were nice, but little did I know that I would soon be caught in the middle of a twister.