Frozen. The one word used to describe how my body. My new winter boots dug into the snow, and the moisture that have penetrated my boots dug into my foot. I suppose that’s unfortunate consequence of stepping into a river, in the middle of one of the most bitter winters I have ever seen.
The lights of my scoutmasters snowmobile flickered on the top of the hill. The destination was close, and I quickened my pace. I wondered what my leaders might tell me when I arrived. After all, I had just lead half my scoutroup down a path of unwarranted perils. I had been given a choice and that choice was wrong.
An hour before this time was when the choice was made. Our goal was to trek up to a yurt in the snow filled mountains, and every scout accepted the …show more content…
Ten feet down the valley I knew i had made a bad choice. The snow went from being packed snow to fluff that was ankle deep, or even worse knee deep. I trudged through the snow, like a fish going upstream. Contorting my body and flopping my way through.
I kept flopping until I reached harder snow, this however, was not the end of my trial. I stepped out of the frying pan and into the fire, or a better description,i stepped out of of the deep snow and into the snow that hid a frozen river. My foot grazed the water and I instantly pulled it out. The cold feeling surged through my body like an icy heartbeat. The ice burned. My sense of urgency increased and so did my speed. I started to jog.
My jogging got me to the end the valley and I started my final ascension to the yurt above me. I was almost there. The angle of the hill increased with every step I took. My body ached. I was cold, tired, and hungry. I occupied my mind with other thoughts to take myself away from the pain. My main thought was what I would tell my leader when he saw how dreary I looked. My answer came in poem i was once