Personal Narrative Essay: The Des Plaines River Trail

Ever since I acquired my first bysicle at the age of six, I was certain that biking would forever be my favorite pastime. I felt like I could go on my bike for an eternity and never become fatigued. If I were to ever get lost, my supreme navigational skills would place me back on the right track, or so I thought. My belief was soon to be challenged

Fresh out of my junior year of high school, summer was in full swing. Only having my phone and a bottle of water, I hit the streets. The Des Plaines River Trail, a lengthy trail which I was unfamiliar with, was only ten miles away from my house. As I arrived, I noticed that there was a map beside the trail presenting a variety of paths. I intentionally disregarded the map. There was no need to examain it. I was, after all, a supreme navigator.

"How could I have forgotten to check the weather forecast? I concluded that it was most logical to abort my plan and return back

The rain began to pour heavily. Soon after, the dirt beneath my feet became moist which made difficult to progress. My clothing became drenched. It was then I knew that I have failed. A feeling of sorrow filled my heart. I am lost, cold, and wet. What was I to do? I laid down and began to weep. Even though no one was around, I felt embarrassed. Being 16-years-old and displaying these kinds of emotions made me feel like less of a man. Even so, I couldn't hold back. My eyes continued to emit tears. After about five minutes, I see a light in the distance, but then it fades away. I walked my bike in the direction of where I had seen the light. I've reached a road. I pull out my phone. Unfortunately, the rain has damaged my phone, and it no longer operated properly. I continued to walk by the road, hoping for the best. Multiple cars pass by, but they are of no use to