Free Narrative Essays - The Mountain Vacation :: Personal Narrative Essays

The Mountain Vacation         Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   My family and I have always loved are camping trips, especially the ones the take us deep into the depths of the Sierra Nevada mountians. There's a very unique and   beautiful camp ground near Mammoth Lakes called Devils Postpile.   My is it beautiful, two gigantic crystal clear lakes, wildlife sites that could easily be posted in any National Geographic magazine, and trout that have enough meat on their bones to suvive in the deepest of any ocean.   One little problem I always have had was that my father was   a better and more experienced fisherman than I was resulting in that he would always catch the bigger and more beautiful fish and almost certainly come home with twice as many fish as I had caught.      Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   This was it, are summer vacation, finally it was time to get out of the intense heat and bordom of Ridgecrest.   We packed are bags, grabbed are fishing poles, loaded the camper and were on are way.  Ã‚   Our drive lasted for four very long hours before we got to the Postpile campground. We hitched are camp and made ourselves right at home knowing we would be there for a while.   We could'nt ask for better weather, the sun was blazin and the temperature was an awesome 85 degrees for fishing the San Juaqin river.   We found ourselves the trail that lead to the postpile,   twisting and turning along the green, damp trial until we came upon a sight that every human being should lay their eyes on, Devils Postpile.   Enormous rocks all rubbing against one another scalling the sky.   Jumping my way close to the river, as I drifted away from everyone else, knowing I was going to catch the mother of all fish in this sacred river.   Competing with my father and brother,   I definetly was'nt going to let them outdo this modern day Tom Sawyer.   I hicked along river for a while, wiping the sweat off my face every other minute, only to find nothing but sheer cliffs and there was no possible fishing hole in sight.   All I could see was a river about seventy to eighty feet below with one very big obsticle in the way jagged rocks were surrounding me from the river as I just kept on