The chilling air as it passes through my nasal cavities, the sound of rocks being crushed under the feet of walking men who dare to venture up this peak. Every footstep counts and we walk a fine line between life and death, as our veins run cold like the artic waters, as our muscles get tight like rubber bands being stretched to their limit.

Words on signs mean nothing to us as we walk to our goal, air is now brisker than ever, our muscles tighter than before, our minds full of pure hope as we break the altitude, we talk of stories and tales we have heard by passing hikers trying to complete their goals as well as we try to complete ours.

The trail is even narrower the ledges are now steeper. Every step now is more deadly then the last, as my cheeks pull back and my eyes glow. I see the peak. My eyes water now like a leaky pipe, my lungs are trying to take in air, we pass abecedarian hikers who do not know what they are doing. They thought they could ascend up its steep ledges with no training, but I have done months of training and hard work.

Our final steps to the summit were the most glorious. On top of the mountain was a small shack. Just past it was a marker that represented a U.S geological survey. I did not stop, no matter what, even if my legs cramped so much I could not walk, I would crawl, to that marker I would to touch it, and I would know that I had done something that I had to push myself to complete.
When I stepped out onto that ledge, the gusting winds had a sudden surge from underneath and the gust was very chilling. This knocked me off balance and I fell to my knees, I crawled to the marker and I touch it, sheer pleasure of my accomplishment. A rush now surges through my acing, trembling body. Word count 350