My foot reaches the first foothold. Relief washes through my body like ice down my back. I can feel every stone, rock, or pebble under my tan, tired hands. Thousands of years ago, these rocks were formed, and maybe in a thousand years these rocks will still remain. They will look no different, than they did in the time when dinosaurs roamed the unpolluted, innocent earth.

I reach for the next hold. It feels jagged and hard. I use all of my strength to pull myself up, every muscle shaking like one of those muscle builders you see on infomercials.

“Reach!” I said to myself.

My feet grasp for a foot hole, ANYTHING! Panic begins to rise as I miss yet another foot hole. Then I was floating, attached to the rock only by a hand. My hand was tethering me to the rock, keeping me from floating away. Only my hand kept me from swinging like a pendulum. Then ahh… relief. My foot found a hold and I hoisted myself to the top.

AUTHOR
Sophia W
8th Grade

Simmons Camp
Journal

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