Narrative Essay

The River

“Watch out, these rocks can get pretty slick,” my dad said. Of course, I didn’t really take it into consideration that hey, maybe he can be right. Let me give you some background information first.

It all started two years ago in the fall of 2005. My dad and I took a trip into the mountains to do a little elk hunting. The night before we actually started hunting, we decided that we were going to hunt in an area that required us to cross a river.

We woke up bright and early the next morning to go and attempt to cross the river. It was a little hard to rise out of bed after staying up late the night before, watching the Broncos. So after we were alert, we headed down the trail. At first, I thought my dad was lying to me about the river because we didn’t come across one in two miles. When we did finally find it, I thought to myself, “What is this guy talking about? This river isn’t that bad.” At the bottom of this somewhat narrow river, there were rocks, some of them even sticking up out of the water. That’s when I heard him say, “Watch out. These rocks can get pretty slick.” As he stepped on the rocks and jumped to the other side, I thought “Yeah, right. Piece of cake.”

When I jumped, I stepped on a very shiny black one and felt my boot slip out from underneath me. I saw my dad hurry over to me and grab my arm, literally when I was inches from becoming submerged in the water. I could almost taste that water, I was so close.

After he pulled me out, we had to stop and take a break. He explained to me that the temperature of the water in that river was well below what anyone in their right mind would want to swim in. We pulled off our packs and got something to eat. In my sack, I had put some candy, an apple, some sandwich crackers, and some granola bars. My dad also had filled his bag the same way. We didn’t eat everything in our pack, of