I walked out and the white, frosty snow struck my retina. I was standing in the snow that was taller than me. My grandpa came over to snow blow our driveway. That was my first snow day that I remember. When I was around eight years old, we had settled in on base in San
During the winter, the swings became too slippery to safely swing on, so we had to use tall snow banks to drop off of. We would slip our way to the top, make a nest of broken sticks and snow, then ‘fly’ away to find more materials. This, too, resulted in bruises and sore ankles. When at home, I would do ‘such important jobs’, as my Mum put it, such as bringing wood in for our fireplaces, filling the cat food, and shoveling away snow. My parents always explained why we did each job, which I am grateful for.
Every year, my family goes on a snowmobile trip with my friend Aftyn’s family in Spearfish, South Dakota. About two years ago, we drove out for our trip as usual. The first day was super fun. We stopped at Four Corners, a fun hill to climb, and we did lots of racing. The second day was a little more eventful.
Cliff jumping in Colorado Springs was a thrilling experience. On a sunny afternoon, we rowed towards the cliff in our raft. It loomed above the rushing water of Arkansas River, blocking out the sun, like a giant over a pond. We pulled to the edge and quickly trekked up the cliff and readied ourselves for the jump. When I was ready, I walked to the edge and took a deep breath and jumped.
Also, I almost got hit and buried by snow bricks that were as hard as rocks. After this outing, I finally got the idea of why people learn by making mistakes because mistakes allow us to remember what is right and what is wrong. At first, I entered the car that I was assigned to. Our car was so crowded that I can barely stretch my legs. The two other scouts told me that they wore nothing inside their snow pants except their boxers.
I’ve never seen snow in my life until we were on our way. We drove to Iowa so when we were getting close, I remember the first time I touched snow and it wasn’t anything I thought it was like. I thought snow was soft but when I touched it was hard and icy. We lived in my aunt’s house, in her basement. Starting school at the elementary in Orange City, I was used to having a variety of races in my school, but when I went to school for the first time here all I saw was white people.
The drive was almost unbearable, but the thought of spending the week in the snow with family kept me going. It was only a four hour drive, but at 9 years old, it felt like an eternity. The scenery slowly changed from flat land, to rolling hills. The hills were covered in yellow dying grass, but they were still beautiful. Then we started to make the climb.
Not the little cute snowflakes you see on TV while watching your favorite holiday movies, but lots of snow. It was the kind of snow that is unimaginable at least to me, at that time of my life. I have never seen it snow before, and as the cold white snow blows along the road and sticks to the window I holler oh my God.
It was about the right time since snow here in Northern Virginia comes later in the winter. I was on break after my fall semester and I decided it was a good time
The ice cold snow melts onto my face, I laugh at myself and hope to god the people around me didn’t see that. No one was paying attention to me they all had this type of confidence and excitement to learn and grow. I stood back up and headed down the hill with all force, not knowing how to turn I abruptly put my snowboard on healedge and slammed to a stop. Little did I know I was already halfway down the hill.
My mother saw allowed me to do this just so I could really learn what snow really was, cold and wet. She thought it would be funny to lock the storm door and watch my realization unfold before her eyes. When I touched what I thought was the falling clouds, I quickly felt that it was cold and wet. From that day forward I began my dislike for snow. AS for my mother she let me in a short while later after I came to the door because I was now cold and
It was a cool afternoon in the frosty month of January, the time was around 5:30 pm and my dad just dropped me off at the Snow Valley hill in his black Mitsubishi Lancer. I took my blueish green Burton Custom snowboard from the back of the car, grabbed my helmet, gloves, jacket and snowpants and went to the bottom of the hill. There, I placed my board on the soft snow and put on my
I took a side by side down to the farm to get Tim and the others so no one was left out of the fun and we needed the fun. Chef made hot sweetened milk flavored with a little vanilla. It was really good. Jason Carl and Terry Weaver used the loader to build the largest snowman out of a pile left from plowing. Everyone agreed Jason and Terry’s was the best.
My First Time Snowboarding If you have ever seen the snowboarding part of the X-Games or the U.S Olympic Snowboarding team, you know how good they are. But their first time snowboarding wasn’t as bad as mine. I was in the sixth grade when I first started snowboarding. The middle school I went to had a ski and snowboard club that went to a nearby ski hill every Friday.
The day was just after my brother’s birthday and we had just finished celebrating his birthday. My brother was more surprised, however, by the amount of snow that covered the yards outside. We both awoke to a sight much more impressive than that of December, a white landscape obscuring everything laying on the ground, including the cars. My brother and I changed faster than firemen getting ready for a rescue, as we ran outside to see the fascinating snow that surrounded our neighborhood.
