During the summer before our junior year of high school, my best friend since preschool, Michael, and I decided we wanted to go on one last adventure to tide us over until the next summer. His family owns a small cabin in the town of
Once we got to the cabin, opened up all the windows, and settled in, Michael and I were ready to go explore. We must have adventured around the cabin for more than 3 hours. At one point, we ran across a river. We ventured along the river for a while until we found the perfect fishing hole. Despite the fact that there were many steep slopes with loose rocks and unstable ground, we decided to travel there each day. These trips were made without incident, despite my growing dislike of not bringing hiking boots. On the last day of the trip, however, everything changed.
Michael and I were traveling back to the cabin on the dangerous path from the fishing hole. He was ahead of me and jumped over a boulder on a steep hill, causing it to roll down into the river. I was a little fearful of making this jump wearing somewhat wet sneakers, but I attempted it anyways. I lost my footing due to my fishing pole getting caught in a tree branch and slid on my backside down the length of the slope, Michael laughing hysterically above. When I finally worked my way back up to Michael, He noted with laughter that I was completely brown from the waist down. My jeans were full of dirt from the mountainside, not to mention completely covered with it as well. Then Michael realized that the top third of my fishing rod was missing. It had snapped off and was tangled up in the tree. After untangling that mess, we continued on uncomfortably.
We then came to a steep rock near the river that we had traversed several times before. I didn’t take into account my dirty sneakers, or the fact that they would obliterate all of the traction I had on that rock every time before. I slipped feet first into the river till I was waist deep in the ice cold water. All of that dirt in my pants had just been transformed into mud. Needless to say, Michael nearly fell into the river himself, from rolling around on the hillside in laughter. Then I realized the tip of my rod that I had untangled and put into my pocket had been pulled out by the river and lost forever. More laughing by Michael ensued.
We finally showed up at the cabin. Michael was still giggling at the sight of me. I was covered in mud, brown water dripping from my body and splashing from my shoes. In my hand was a broken fishing rod, with no tip in sight. I did gain something from this experience however, besides a ruined pair of shoes and a broken pole. I learned how to laugh at myself. I will admit, Michael’s laughter was very contagious, and I soon looked at the brighter side of things and laughed all the way back to the cabin with him. I also learned that if something humorous happens to me, I will receive many, many jokes from Michael’s family. I think that this unfortunately humorous event will make this trip last forever in our memories.
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