My Narrative

The wind was screaming in my ear to go. The tips of my skis hung over the steep icy cliff. I cautiously wedge over the top of the hill. I was on my way down.

As I made my way down the hill, all thoughts floated out of my mind. I was headed down so rapidly I thought I might fall. Suddenly a burst of energy and urge to finish off this hill strong popped into me like a runner on a track seeing that he was going to win. I knew I could conquer this mountain.

“Halfway”, I murmured to myself. This hill is going to take a century. So I carried on going down as observations bounced around in my mind. Steep-icy-mogal curved ground. Is this a black diamond, this is way to hard to be a blue… The sign said blue, right?

I finally made my way to the bottom. I threw my poles into the air because I knew what I had accomplished. My cheeks hurt because I was smiling is big. I knew that was no blue slope. Conformation finally came when I saw my mom at the bottom of the incredibly steep hill. “Congrats!”, my mom said with a smile full of pride, “You just nailed your first black slope!”

I knew it. I knew it halfway down what I had gotten myself into but, when my skies hung over the edge at the start I had no clue. Even though at that moment I was terrified and confused, it was a good thing, not knowing, because If I would of known I would have bailed. I look back on this day as the day that I let go a bit a let the spence of adventure take over. Even though it was a mistake it was defiantly a good one.

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