“Welcome to the XXXth West Ridge Pep Rally! Blahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblah…..” I sat on the bleachers, brain cells dying every nanosecond as I listened to all the noise and people droning on. Really, is there a good point to these? I hate pep rallies so much!

First of all, pep rallies are loud. Extremely loud. All that yelling and screaming really hurts my ears, and the band playing(no offence intended), microphone mishaps, along with a billion other sounds combine to make one painful cacophony. I’d much rather listen to a jet engine roaring as the aircraft soars into the sky, and after a pep rally, I have to spend a few minutes trying to restore my hearing as it was before this horrid event.

As well as being ear-shattering loud, the second reason I dislike them is probably my main reason-they’re too boring. I’m not really THAT interested in how our school’s doing in football or something like that, nor do I really care that much about the competitions in them-well, to be fair, they can be mildly amusing at times, so it is a minute positive. Besides that though, there’s not really anything that I’m interested in, which, perception wise, stretches the pep rally out longer than it should be.

Last of all, pep rallies are time-consuming. Tying in with the boredom reason and perception distortion, it also stretches out the time immensely: five minutes can feel like twenty. The other main issue is that there’s no advisory-meaning less time to do homework, or in mine and several other peoples’ cases, no UIL meeting. While sacrificing something educational like how to find the energy generated by a collision of a gram of matter and antimatter or something like that, no one likes having less time to do the form of torture that should be banned by the Geneva Convention: homework.

All in all, I simply just don’t like pep rallies, even though you get to miss like forty-five minutes of school. They may be a good place to chat with friends and build school spirit, but for me, they aren’t that amazing and are a waste of time.

 

 

Rocky Mountain High Adventure Base, July 9, 2013

“Okaaayyyyy—how big is this cliff again?” I stuttered as I peered down the abyss, at the rocks, the river, the tall grass, the rolling fields, the forest, and a field of cow pies.

“160 feet,” came the reply.

“Oh great,” I thought. “And it isn’t some tower or anything like that. It’s a bumpy cliff with loose rocks and God knows what else.” “I should’ve done that tower when I had the chance at Lost Pines.” If you didn’t know, there was a 50 foot tower at Lost Pines where you could rappel or climb. Unfortunately, I never did.

“Okay,” I muttered to myself. “Everyone else says it was really scary at first, but super fun at the end. It should be the same for me!” Well, the sheer size of this cliff and the view from up there completely dispelled that notion.

After a bunch of talking, some small practice runs, and some words of encouragement, I decided to remove that restraining thingy and start the great descent. I slowly lowered myself and went down the cliff. “This isn’t so bad. It feels kind of relaxing actually.”

Then I set my foot, unknowingly, on some uneven and loose section. Soon, I was dangling on there like a cloth fluttering in the wind.

“Fantastic. Marvelous. Wonderful!” I sarcastically thought at myself as I tried to comprehend the situation. “Excellent. I never thought that I’d be in THIS situation.” “Will they have to call in the National Guard? I hope not. Is there a one way ticket out of this mess?”

Suddenly, I recalled the instructor telling all of us on putting your feet on the surface of the cliff and lowering your main body down, just like you should. “That just might work,” I realized. I struggled a bit to find a good spot to settle my feet down, and after I did that, I tentatively started moving the rope to lower my body down. And bam, I was back to normal and moving again.

I decided to go slowly, and took some time to gaze at the scenery. “This is…..breathtaking. It’s so beautiful. The rolling plains, the forest, the stream shimmering in the sun, the puffy white clouds that look like the cotton balls in my first aid kit soaring above my head- it’s nature at its finest.”

I continued descending, taking occasional peeks at the world around me. 75% of the way there I heard a voice: “Hey, Kev- look here and smile!” I swiveled my head around to find myself staring at one of my friend’s dads, holding a camera pointed towards me. I broke into an immense smile, gave a thumbs up, and barely heard the distinct “Click!” that defines a camera.

“That’s definitely going on my wall.”

After much patience, I finally reached the end, where it was just empty space-all I had to do was slowly lower myself down. Once I had successfully accomplished that and my foot made contact with solid ground, there was only one thing I was thinking:Success!

As I headed towards to where we were staying, a bunch of thoughts were swarming my head, like ants when they sight something sweet. “I’ve done what I thought was impossible for me- I went down 160 feet and survived.“ I finally reached our staying spot, and all my friends swarmed me, congratulating me for my achievement. “What took you so long?” one said affectionately. From that point forward, that day has remained one of the greatest ever in my life.

Exhausted by the whole ordeal, I decided to take a little nap, while some of my friends went to the nearby fields and started messing around. Before I closed my eyes for a little bit, I made out one sentence from one of them:

“Oh poo, I stepped in a cow pie!”