Climbing Rocks and Dreams :: Personal Narrative, Autobiographical Essay

I am the bravest guy I know. I dont mean to brag, still thats on the dot the government agency it is. Granted, Im not great pals with any prisoners of war or any cowboys, but I am a rideer, and climbers are hardcore. By sheer will, climbers outgo overhanging rock faces, risk life and limb in the pursuit of the summit, and just generally go all out all the time. Aside from being able to handle the risk, climbers latch onto the sharpest and most painful handholds for the simplest reward of having climbed a ill-tempered rock wall. No, climbers dont seek attention from the crowds or big bucks for competing they climb with the pure, unadulterated motivation of being brave enough to achieve their dreams. What places me in the upper most tier of bravery among climbers, arent the bold routes Ive conquered, but kinda my willingness to commit to my dreams with irrefutable impetuousness. Throughout my 17 years of life, Ive always had an affinity for adventure. The same irrational cravi ng I had as a baby for extended power outages fueled my desire to be a climber-in particular my desire to climb at Americas most famous bouldering area, Hueco Tanks, Texas. While I had done a significant amount of climbing beforehand, including a seven-day Southern climbing tour with the Adventure Guild, I had only gotten my infantry in the door of the climbing scene. I had to have more. My participation in this trip to Hueco not only placed me on the road to comme il faut a prominent climber, but also enlightened me to my outstanding bravery. thither wasnt a single thing that s autoed me there. Even from the very beginning, I started out on the courageous path. I had been sick the week leash up to the trip, but no, I didnt let the fear of being detached sick in a tent in the middle of the sugariness hold me back. It was a beautiful early afternoon after the hold out half-day of school before spring break, and I was getting in my car totally distraught over my parents decision that I would not go on the trip. (After all, they had only let me come to school that day because I had to take a math test.) After tossing my books in the back pose of my car, I casually cruised over to the microbus where Stuart, the trip leader, and the rest of the climbers were busily making final preparations for their departure.