Our trip to friendsville was an amazing experiance with so many things to see and do and so many memories made. One of the first things that we did their was to park the Rv. This was such a task. We didn 't exactly know where to park it. Their was this field right in frount of her house which we decided we would turn around in. Now this wasn 't such a good idea seeing that it had been raining days before. So their was quite the amount of mud which we didn 't see til we drove into it. Luckily we had some flat wood in the back of the rv and our friend named Bridget ( who we were staying at ) had some to. We put it under the tires in hopes that the tires might get a grip on something to pul us forward. Thankully we were able to make it through …show more content…
Then we headed out to a forest of which i forget the name of. But their we parked and had ourselves a lovely picknick. Then we headed for a trail. Now in the year before they had had a snowstorm which left the place with trees fallen over and such, so it wasn 't at its best, but they managed to clear off the paths. During the hike we saw four waterfalls which were so very beautyful and many pretty sites. Their were rocks to climb on, benches to sit on, and their was a place where we had to go up one hundred and fifteen stairs as we counted. We decided to go the long was so we went up these stairs twice. That was something. Finally we started to head back to the car. As we got in i saw a very preety bird. I don 't know of what sorts but it was very preety. As we got back to her house we ate dinner and stayed up a little while listening to music and having fun. Then came time for bed. This time i slept on her pull out couch which was much more comfortable than the couch in the rv. We woke up and had to leave. Sadly though we had to leave one of our dogs behind untill the end of our trip. We said our goodbyes to Bridget and the dog and set out again for another part of our
In summary, on 09/21/15 at 0418 hours I was patrolling the area of 1600 S. Laramie Ave., at which time I observed a male subject with a youthful appearance walking northbound 16th Street. I made contact with the subject, at which time he identified himself as (Rosas, Alexis DOB 04/21/97). While speaking with Rosas, I detected a strong odor of fresh cannabis emanating from his person. Rosas related he had some cannabis in his sweater pocket. I recovered a silver box containing a green leafy substance from Rosas ' right sweater pocket.
The poem “Fade” bring to the light the pain of Jackson after Stuart’s death. Unconsciously Jackson can’t let go his friend. He stared to have dreams about Stuart. He really miss Stuart. As Jackson describe Stuart in his dreams, he says, “Wanted to say good-bye” (11s.
When I made a lucky catch, I learned what carelessness could cost you. I was around seven years old at the time, and I played baseball for Lakeview Playground. It was my first year of playing hardball, and like everyone else, I had no knowledge of what was happening. Our team name was the “Grey Sharks,” only because our jerseys were
We had to find our through many vegetation filled forests. It took many hours to discover the pathway leading us to the outstanding place, that was Dollywood. The roads were filled with pot holes, causing a stern vibration. This unsettled many of my peer 's stomachs, leading towards an avalanche of kids
It was a hot day in June when my husband pulled into our driveway with a huge U-Haul truck. A few friends came to help load our meager belongings into the
“Knowing what is right and doing what is right are not the same”, James’s mother Carolyn would often say. After she died James adopted this as his motto. Growing up in a poverty-stricken neighborhood where there is constant shooting and increasinga number of drug dealers. It’s hard growing up around temptation. Brownsville has been named one of the worst neighborhood to live in New York.
I have lived in East Oakland my whole life. To the majority of people, the mention of East Oakland evokes thoughts of violence, shootings, and gangs. I was one of the people who believed in these stereotypes, and for a particularly long time. I was one of the people who saw Oakland as a wasteland, a place with nothing to offer me, and a place I had nothing to offer to.
Last summer, I traveled to Yellowstone National Park and it was breathtaking. I remember pulling into the park and just breathing in the smell of pine trees. As we were driving through the lush, green trees two brown bears emerged from the woods and calmly crossed the street. Later, we drove up the mountain and could see the entire park. It was an unforgettable sight, I saw everything from the various mountains to the pines and I could even see Old Faithful.
At 5:45 AM the alarm on my phone blared some generic default tone that I had never gotten around to changing. This was probably the earliest I’ve ever gotten up in my entire life. I groggily removed myself from the pile of blankets on the floor that I had been sleeping in and headed for the shower, brushed my teeth, washed my face and searched my near empty closet for something to wear on my first day of school. Although I was absolutely exhausted and there was yet to be any furniture in my room, I was thrilled to be transferring to Pattonville High School in midst of my junior year and living in a bigger house in a better community.
A little town in the middle of nowhere is often seen as just a small backward little place. It does depend, however, on what such a place offers to those living there. For those who grow up in such a small place the treasures are endless. This is the place where you learn most of life’s lessons, if not all of them. Having grown up in a town that was really a compact city, made the greatest impression on my life.
As a young girl, around the age of 10 I lived in the Perry projects with my mother. Previously to moving there I would visit often to see my great-grandmother. When I would visit my grandmother there were not many other people that were African-American. The Commodore Perry Projects had been actually made for white people.
My dad and I went on a muzzleloader antelope hunting trip, in Central Oregon. Four days into our trip, on September 1st, we started our morning off like the past three days, very tired. We stumbled out of our beds and, drowsily, we geared up and left for another unknowing day of hunting. Once we arrived at some alfalfa fields, my dad let me drive the dirt roads.
It had been three years since the Dust Bowl Drought started and it was really affecting my family. My mom, Laurie had to really work hard to support the family and help to play for house repairs that we needed after all of the storms hit. My father, Jonathan worked on the farm right behind our house to try to keep me, mom, and him fed. It was 3:00 I had just got home from school and my parents were still working. I walked inside to see what was cooking, dad had chicken pot pie in the oven.
After we packed up all our stuff my dad said” Everyone go to bed, so we can wake up fresh in the morning and get the trip started”. So, we all went to bed. I can barely sleep thinking about all the fun were going to have. After about 15 minutes everyone was sound asleep and so was I.
In the woods, we explored deer trails that made their way to the very back to a beautiful creek that ran through the thicket. There were small waterfalls flowing down and a water hole we would jump in for fun. The only downside were the