A short story about a hike.
It was a hot, sunny day in the middle of July. The noontime air was warm and steamy. I was tan and happy. My dad, my two sisters and I were driving through Acadia National Park on Mount Desert Island, in Maine. We stopped and parked at the foot of a mountain. The infamous Bubble Rock rested at its peak. While reading the posted sign we learned how Bubble Rock was formed by glaciers. This rock hung over the edge of the steep mountain. Although the rock was quite stable, it looked like it would snap off at any moment. I looked up and realized how much I wished I was standing up on top of it. I decided to check out the trail that led into the woods. 3I1ll be back after I climb the mountain,2 I yelled as I walked into the woods. I didn1t really plan on climbing the mountain. My family thought I was joking when I said that I was going to do it. Maybe I was. I still do not know. Something about myself that I have learned is that sometimes you do not know what to expect of me. I like to be spontaneous, and I like a lot of excitement. My family can never tell what I am going to do. That afternoon they might have been wondering exactly what they should expect. I did not want to go to the top of the mountain. It would take a long time, and we wanted to go shopping and head back to our cabin before it got too late. I walked into the woods and soon I was beside a lake totally enveloped in fog. I was facing a rock wall. The blue dots on the wall indicated that the trail went straight up. Wonderful memories rushed into my head from from other rock climbing adventures. I have always loved the rush I get from heights. I love the feeling I get when I have accomplished something that has challenged me, the feeling I get when I know a wrong move could be dangerous. With these memories in my head I began climbing, and before I knew I was well on my way. I was looking down and smiling. The air got thinner, and the cracks between the rocks got bigger and bigger. Any fall I took would have been fatal. I was happy and enjoying every second. Although I was hot and sweaty from my strenuous climb, the air began to get cold, unlike the hot weather I had left below. Within the next two hours I made it to the top, driven by adrenaline. With a final burst of energy, I was there. Standing out on Bubble Rock was an intense feeling. I stood there trying to catch my breath, the cool wind swirling around me. My head was in the clouds. There was nothing below me, only the swirling gusts of wind. I forgot how hot and tired I was. I was in a daze. It was calming and exhilarating all at once. I might as well have been flying. I stood there for a long time before I came back to reality. The time had flown by. I finally felt my exhaustion from the climb up. For the first time I thought about my family down below. I expected them to be very mad at me. I had been gone for a long time and I had delayed our trip. I might have ruined our plans. Climbing down seemed to take forever, although I know it only took about half of the time it took me to climb up. It is not fun at all when every step takes you closer to the ground. When I got back out of the woods, I found my family- very worried and panicking. They thought I had gotten hurt. I have never seen my family so upset. They didn1t expect me to climb that mountain. I did not expect myself to climb it either, but I did. As we drove away in silence, I began to feel guilty. I realized how much they cared about me. I could not believe what I had put them through. They were down below worrying and I did not even think about them once. That day I learned a lot about myself. When I get that rush from an adventure, nothing else, not even fear crosses my mind. I realized that just because I am having the time of my life does not mean I am not affecting anyone else. Since that incident last summer, I have tried to be more sensitive to others. I still often get carried away when I am having fun. Now I realize that sometimes I need to settle down.