A Paddle in the River - Original Writing Essay -- Papers

A Paddle in the River - Original Writing Admittedly I was not expecting a stroll along picturesque canyon scenery when the activity of gorge walking was announced, despite the region's hilly nature, but neither had the prospect of preparing for full blown assault down a river in its upper course occurred to me. Snowdonia is abundant with water of all descriptions, from the mists that drift across the mountain tops, to the waterfalls and rivers that forge their way towards the coast. It is safe to declare that not one part of this activity included walking; wading, staggering, stumbling, even plummeting maybe, but definitely not walking. From the moment the coach set off from base camp, and parked on a dusty cobbled road, I was awaiting the activity with anticipation. Then, to my shock, following the inquisitive cries from surrounding pupils, the instructor bluntly likened the activity to a, 'dip in a pond'. A wetsuit has always been an item of clothing designed for reassurance. Whether it be surfing in the Pacific, or even paddling off the coast of Scotland, a wetsuit is made to protect you from bitter waters. Strangely however, the suits flung on a trailer which we were told to wriggle ourselves into left me feeling helplessly exposed. The fluorescent orange shoulder patches were in tatters, and the zips on your back jammed and in some cases were non-existent. In tandem with the mild yet prominent sewerage stench, I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. After grabbing a helmet capable of fitting, and struggling to put on a life jacket, we began an ungainly stagger up to the start of our activity. The ascent proved a challenge, the ... ...sed my numb arm and wiped a bead of sweat from my brow, before loosening my collar. Suddenly my life jacket became a worthless chunk of yellow padding. A cheerful Mr Allen below, perching on a boulder, did little to boost my confidence. Hell's demons were playing cunning tricks on my mind: Is the plunge pool deeper enough? Are you certain you will not scrape your back on the side of the rock face? I was superman, as I teetered nervously off the edge and plunged down. All I could see was a blur of rich green leaves, jagged rocks, and finally Mr Allen's freckled face before I was consumed by the effervescent potion. As I plodded slowly back to the coach I had time to reflect. There was no doubt that the activity has been unusual and exhilarating and, after one sniff, I could safely say it had been a, "dip in the pond".