Personal Narrative: My Father's Log Cabin

After three hours of of hiking what felt like a vertical slope, the top of Mount Haystack was right in front of me. I knew that I could keep pushing through because I had suffered so much worse before. I wasn’t about to let this mere incline prevent me from reaching the top. I powered through the aching muscles and throbbing knees, while ignoring the sharp radiating pain in my calves. After what felt like forever, I was standing 5260 ft above the sea and taking in a spectacular view. When I glanced to my left, I realized I wasn’t quite at the top, I still had two more peaks to go before I’d reach the top of Lafayette. So after a few minutes of rest I got started on the rest of the hike.

My shorts and tee shirt did little to protect me from the chilly air of March.   It seemed as though winter did not want to change into spring quite yet. Allison and I patiently waited in the never ending line for the log ride at Silver Dollar City.  We had traveled a couple hours from Edmond, Oklahoma to Branson, Missouri for Spring Break. The log ride was something I talked Allison into doing, the possibility of rafting through the waters too enticing.  As we slowly made our way to the beginning of the line, the ride instructor helped us into the log ride not before chastising the children before us not rock the ride. Slowly the log ride gained momentum down the watery track, after winds and turns we were nearing the top of the ride.

I am the General Manger of the recently-purchased and renovated Timber Cove Inn. After a 2.5 million upgrade, the raccoons have returned to nature, we have remodeled the rooms, and we have added hiking trails and an events lawn overlooking the spectacular Sonoma Coast.

One day at our summer cabin in the woods me my mom,dad,brother, and sister were having a peaceful day except for that this time we were in danger having to live off the land. For we feared that some kind of creature had taken over our cabin. What was once a peaceful vacation spot was know a place of eeriness.

This may not seem like a five star lodge, but to a duck hunter it’s all they could possibly want. Walking in the front door is like walking into a rustic, old cabin on a lake long forgotten in the woods. There are old Ducks Unlimited paintings scattered all throughout the trailer along with duck, deer, and old fish mounts. In addition to the entrance room there are also a kitchen, living room, and mud room area, which is all separated by a tight doorway. . Entering the dilapidated kitchen area is like walking through a 1960s family dining room. Old discolored laminate countertops line the perimeter of the kitchen along with a refrigerator, microwave, and coffee maker. The duck paintings continue to throughout the kitchen and into the living room. The old 1960s atmosphere is still present when entering the living, but with a few more modern amenities such as a flat screen TV, air conditioning, and running water. Last but not least is the mud room. The mud room is the final area the hunters are in before the big hunt. This is where they get dressed in there camo waders and decide which area of the property they wish to hunt. The Green Wing club house is the member’s home away from home during duck season. Stories of past hunting excursions fill the air when duck season rolls around, and the sounds of old wise men chuckling muffle the room. The Green Wing Club house is where the hunters come together as friends, but

Annoyed at this, I turned once again and lay on my back. I took a deep

It was saturday, October 2016. Me and my friend J.T pulled up to Michael Wood’s house. His mom Alexis was throwing a party. Because Mr.wood just got a promotion at work. And it was their last week here before they moved to Detroit. Over 1,200 miles away from where I live in Miami Florida. J.T and I hang out for most of the party. Until I saw Michael. I wanted to congratulate him and his dad. But it would be too sad. Hey Michael what's up, oh how's it going bro. Nothing much I replied. I really wanted to ask him about his dad's promotion so I

As the 99 Toyota Tacoma plays Hank William Jr’s “Family Tradition” while pulling the hill to a “family friends” house, I can’t help but wonder how things have gotten to this point. He is no friend of mine, in fact, I’ve never seen his face or spoke to him. Even though the two of us have never exchanged words I have a pure hatred for this man, he’s partially the reason my life isn’t the same, the reason my father isn’t himself. We pull into the house’s driveway as I’m ordered to “Sit in the truck.”. My father walks up the steps softly and quickly, does a sequence of knocks almost as if he’s sending a telegraph message through the door to let this “friend” know that he is there to start working. This man never comes to the door, but instead

I opened the eyes, more exhausted than ever. Not really. I was just on a hangover. Good ol' Jake. Smuggled three six packs of beer from the kitchen to our cabin last night and we both had four each. I threw my sleeping bag to the other end of my bed, and climbed down the stairs of mine and my friends bunk bed. Just as my feet reached the ground, I realized that Jake had drunk another bottle and he'd left it on the ground, in the middle of the room.

I woke up in the long, 30 foot 5th wheel camper. My grandparents and I drove the camper up to Howard Lake. Howard Lake was just 12 miles outside of Libby, and the home of several different kinds of wildlife, ranging from tiny squirrels to wolves, moose, and bears. Just days before my grandparents and I had arrived to the campsite, the word was out that two bears had been attracted to a moose carcass. Fearing the campsite was closed, our bunch later arrived, and sure enough, it was open.

About a 20 minute drive away was the popular town of Waikiki. Waikiki brings in about 8.3 million tourists each year. This is very convenient for the crater because it attracts Waikiki’s visitors. From the bottom of the mountain it is about a mile one way. This trail was known for it’s difficulty because of how steep the trail was. It also had other little issues like no shade or spots for rest. No bathrooms along the way and no where to get water. It was known for

When you ask a kid where they are from, they can usually give you a fairly simple response of the town and state they grew up in, but when I was asked this question, I had two answers instead of one. I had one home in Grand Island, Nebraska and another in Silver Creek, Nebraska. While Grand Island is the third largest city in our state, Silver Creek is among the smallest with a population of only about 400. I like to think that being a part of both of these very different communities has had a definite influence on the person I am today by offering me exposure to unique perspectives and experiences that I wouldn’t have had otherwise.

My wand is has Ash wood with Unicorn hair. It is firm and fourteen inches. The wood I choose to enhance my wand with is Hazel. I personally think that Hazel would be an excellent fit for me. This is, because like the wand, I'm very loyal. I am also extremely sensitive. It is not uncommon for me to cry. For example, if I'm told something disappointing, I'll probably cry. If someone yells at me, I'll burst into tears.

The ruckus from the bottom of the truck is unbearable, because of the noise and excessive shaking. As we slowly climbed the mountain road to reach our lovely cabin, it seemed almost impossible to reach the top, but every time we reached it safely. The rocks and deep potholes shook the truck and the people in it, like a paint mixer. Every window in the truck was rolled down so we could have some leverage to hold on and not loose our grip we needed so greatly. The fresh clean mountain air entered the truck; it smelt as if we were lost: nowhere close to home. It was a feeling of relief to get away from all the problems at home. The road was deeply covered with huge pines and baby aspen trees. Closely examining the

Anthony was the leader of the trail riding and knowing him if he finds anything that should be explored, we will most definitely check it out. After Andrew screaming at the top of his lungs trying to out scream his bike trying to convince Anthony why we shouldn't stop, he finally decided to just turn it off his bike and catch up with Anthony and I. Turns out it was such a great hiking spot that we decided to build a fort and spend the night there. So that's what we did, we ran back, grabbed a hatchet came back chopped some wood for a fire, gathered leaves and ferns for bedding and sharpened some sticks to make a debris hut which is basically like a circular