So I slowly grasped the sweaty handle bars of the zip line and the conductor tightly put the black belt on my waist. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I took one deep breath and started thinking about how much I had to do in life and if I should go on this risk taking ride. Though, my fear was there, I thought about how this zip line wasn’t that long and could probably come back in 2 minutes, and I could always close my eyes which sort of helped to relieve my fears..…
Most teenagers would probably tell you that the beginning of their adulthood was marked by having to do laundry for the first time, or being able to drive alone, or perhaps no longer sitting at the children's table at family events. But for me, it happened this past summer, when I made the very difficult decision that I would not return to Coleman Country Day Camp. To those who were not fortunate enough to have grown up at summer camp, this might not seem like such a big decision to make. But Coleman was my outlet, my second home for ten consecutive summers and spending those two months anywhere else seemed inconceivable to me.…
I once thought I couldn’t believe in myself! I felt as if I were nothing but a sheet of glass that was completely useless. When there were gloomy days, I felt like broken glass that was scattered all over the ground and I wouldn’t be fixable. So I thought if I joined a sport, I would then, have no choice but to believe that I can do more and accomplish more, and be better than whom I was! When I was little I loved to run…
I am the sole curator, operator and owner of The Outdoorsman's Corner. A self-appointed avid backwoodsman, I try to live every day as magnanimously as possible, through the serenity that permeates my life through deep roots in the canoe tripping capital of the world - Ontario, Canada. My passion lies in long, solitary days travelling by land and water; a passion driven by my need to live my life in accordance with the ingenuity, fortitude, curiosity and simplicity that are trademarks of the Canadian backcountry experience. I look toward living a simple life full of adventure and kindness, and I want to share all the goodness of the outdoors with whoever may listen. It is my hope that this growing community of tales, opinions and knowledge…
When I was 13 my class went to a French summer camp in Powell River for a week. One of the activities was outdoors rock climbing. I managed to climb just over halfway to the top. I found myself incapable of climbing any further. So I yelled down to be lowered.…
So it all started when my best friend from my old school asked me if I wanted to go with him to this big trampoline place in St. Louis called Sky zone with his family. First we went there and we had a certain time to be there so we all went out to eat to Steak n Shake. Then we all ate and ready to go. We had to take off our shoes and socks and put on special orange grip on the bottom socks. The place was pretty big.…
Riding down the hill. Picking up speed. Wet pavement. Need to slow down. Hydroplaning.…
When I was very little, walking up the trail with a pack on my back and the dog at my side, I would reach out and pull leaves from the bushes and trees. I would tear off corners, smooth the edges, and they would be turned into spaceships, flying across a lush alien world. Sometimes the trail, worn down into the ground over time by paws and hooves, would climb its way up onto the crests of ridges and meander across the moist, mossy fringes of muskegs. The rough, black and gnarled spruce branches that grew there were pirate spacecraft, pursued by the sleek birch branches from beyond the muskeg's soggy borders. As imaginary lasers and rockets exploded against the ships' hulls, I would rip off little pieces of bark and let them fall to the forest floor.…
“Yea, for sure,” I manage to say. “Yer gonna need to pull down pretty hard, an' since it's raining so damn much, pull even harder.” he tells me, going on to mention how you need to pull your legs up or something, and other things that I completely miss wondering to myself how many people have died doing this, and who even invented zip lining, like actually what a crazy idea. I find myself…
My vision started to fail on mile four of the six-mile hike. Small white specks flickered across my field of vision. The next thing to go was my hearing, followed by my ability to walk in a straight line. My platoon sergeant saw the signs of heat stroke and forced me to stop. I should have stopped myself, but all I could think was: you will finish this, or you will die trying.…
The first time I jumped on a trampoline was at my friend Evan’s house. It was on of the most fun things I had ever done. At the time I couldn’t do much, all I could do was a butt bomb. Which all it was is that I jumped landed on my butt then bounced back onto my feet. Soon enough my uncle Mark bought my sister and I a trampoline for ourselves.…
I went to the state fair and I rode almost all the rides. It was so fun. A couple of the rides went upside down. I almost threw up on the one that went upside down.…
The raindrops trickle down from the peak of my forehead, dance across my eyebrows, and finally take the leap down the 400 foot drop. Adrenaline surges through my veins. Soaked jungle trees completely surround me and pouring rain beats away at every inch of my body, like I am enclosed in the belly of a tsunami. The light Honduran air entraps me while the wind whispers and sings to me in a cold whistled tone. The zip line stretches across the gaping 400 foot drop and I cannot seem to locate the end of the line.…
A Slippery Situation Every year, during the New Year holiday, my family goes on a ski vacation. The location varies, but this year we decided to travel to Vail, Colorado. There we met up with some friends of my parents. I have skied since I was very young. Every since I was little, my parents put my sister and me into ski school.…
Parasailing is something I’ll always be proud of – so, I went back to take pictures, it’ll never do justice to what I felt but it captured a very special view that reminds me of my ‘once-in-a-lifetime…