Our Hike up Poly Canyon :: Descriptive Essays Observation

Our Hike up Poly canonIf I had known what lay before me Monday morning on our hike up Poly Canyon, I would not have been so hesitant. After many attempts, my alarm finally woke me up at 630 am. As I stumbled into the shower and got ready, I was dreading our threatening hike. I struggled to put on my shoes as my feet still ached with blisters from my last ascent of a local mountain. Less than two weeks earlier my howler concourse traveled up Bishops Peak an unpleasant adventure I was not eager to repeat. An hour later, still fighting to keep my eyeball open, I met my class in the lobby and together we ascended to the gate of Poly Canyon to greet our Professor. By the time we stopped for our first rest, I had experienced a whirlwind of impressions. The cold, biting air snapped at my skin. The sounds of campus life faded as we made our way to the back array of the mountain. In their place was the chirping of birds, crackling of leaves falling get rid of trees and the b ellow of nearby cows. In place of the redbrick dorms and Cerro Vista apartments of campus stood the shabby sheds and arenas of the Campus Farm. We passed dry, fruitless Serpentine rock on our way, and cactus grew opposite a barren river. short aft(prenominal) passing an ancient oak tree, we discovered a group of deer staring back at us. We stopped to gaze at the gathering on a nearby hill, and once they scurried to the top we continued on our way. The novel sights, sounds and smells we experienced in the first twenty minutes of our adventure wonderful my liquor and increased my anticipation for what was to come. After our break, we crossed a narrow bridge, passed through a grove of sweet-smelling trees, and began our ascent up the back side of the mountain. My sentiments speedily shifted back to ones of pain and regret. The wounds on my feet reopened and I was bleeding through my socks. My breath grew shorter and my face became redder from exhaustion. The views were j ust as disheartening, given that the dense fog hid the yellowish pink of the hills. The wholly natural features visible were small, sharp rocks which further made my feet ache more, and yucca bushes, slightly more pleasant to the eye, but painful to the touch.Our Hike up Poly Canyon Descriptive Essays ObservationOur Hike up Poly CanyonIf I had known what lay before me Monday morning on our hike up Poly Canyon, I would not have been so hesitant. After many attempts, my alarm finally woke me up at 630 am. As I stumbled into the shower and got ready, I was dreading our impending hike. I struggled to put on my shoes as my feet still ached with blisters from my last ascent of a local mountain. Less than two weeks earlier my WOW group traveled up Bishops Peak an unpleasant adventure I was not eager to repeat. An hour later, still fighting to keep my eyes open, I met my class in the lobby and together we ascended to the gate of Poly Canyon to greet our Professor. By the time we stopped for our first rest, I had experienced a whirlwind of impressions. The cold, bitter air snapped at my skin. The sounds of campus life faded as we made our way to the back side of the mountain. In their place was the chirping of birds, crackling of leaves falling off trees and the bellows of nearby cows. In place of the redbrick dorms and Cerro Vista apartments of campus stood the shabby sheds and arenas of the Campus Farm. We passed dry, fruitless Serpentine rock on our way, and cactus grew opposite a barren river. Soon after passing an ancient oak tree, we discovered a group of deer staring back at us. We stopped to gaze at the assembly on a nearby hill, and once they scurried to the top we continued on our way. The novel sights, sounds and smells we experienced in the first twenty minutes of our adventure elevated my spirits and increased my anticipation for what was to come. After our break, we crossed a narrow bridge, passed through a grove of sweet-smelling tree s, and began our ascent up the back side of the mountain. My sentiments quickly shifted back to ones of pain and regret. The wounds on my feet reopened and I was bleeding through my socks. My breath grew shorter and my face became redder from exhaustion. The views were just as disheartening, given that the dense fog hid the beauty of the hills. The only natural features visible were small, sharp rocks which further made my feet ache more, and yucca bushes, slightly more pleasant to the eye, but painful to the touch.