The first eighteen miles whizzed by as we hiked through the dehydrated bushes with the beating sun gazing down on us. The real story layed within the last couple of miles. The only way back to camp was up. We trekked our way along the creek that would soon lead us to the trail out.
BAM! My frail knee collides with the boulder as I attempt to leap over the obstacle with the lack of energy I had. Doubt and worry leak into my mind, as I cry a tearless cry. I focus on the girl ahead of me, her breathing distracting me from my thoughts. Hunched over, her legs stumbled to keep up with the girl in front of her. I realized I wasn’t the only one experiencing these dilemmas. Twenty-one miles isn’t supposed to be easy, especially through a mountain. We signed up for this to push ourselves to the limits, and to become better at the sport we love: Cross Country. …show more content…
The waterfall was the last stop before the hike out of the canyon. For the last month I heard about the horrors of this monstrous hill from the past campers. “A neverending climb, with a great view,” stated one of the runners. Adrenaline flooded my body as we rounded the bend and saw the waterfall.
Canopied by the green, luscious trees, stood a couple of counselors with a bucket of water. My throat tightens, as I’m reminded of the thirst, my body’s been suffering for the past couple of miles. I hobbled over to the closest lady to