Eagle Mountain

It was a scorcher that afternoon. Hot and bristling, the Minnesota sun beat down on my already flaming body. Nine-inch mosquitoes swarmed amongst the group. The not-so-distant roar of some inhumane creature filled my ears and I braced myself for the onslaught of danger that would soon befall us once we started the ascent. As I slipped on my UV sunglasses, I gazed up at the infamous Eagle Mountain - towering so high above me I couldn't even make out the top - and I started asking myself the big questions of life such as: Why am I here? Does my life really matter? Is that a tan line?! But now, the time had come and the decision was ultimately upon me: shall we begin the ascent of the notorious and very dreaded peak, or wait it out and catch the new ER episode? Not surprisingly, considering both the raw adventurer in me and my squeamish fear of blood, I chose the former - the hospital would have to wait. The first few perilous minutes of the climb were both grueling and exhausting as I continually scrambled over monstrous boulders and dodged trees that were eternally blocking my path. Near the start of the trail, I came to the point known (by me at least) as Jaws Creek, where man eating minnows reside in their awful abodes. Soon after, we stopped at a lake to eat our lunch and I chanced a look at the water, just in time to spot a crocodile slip into the lake with the remains of a human body. After two to three hours of strenuous and laborious not to mention arduous hiking we reached the summit. I looked intently over the sheer cliffs surrounding the peak and my stomach turned because of the height (or maybe it was that king-sized snickers bar). At 2,301 feet, Eagle Mountain is one of the highest mountains in the world I believe, but I don't like to brag about my accomplishments. So to all you little people who don't climb mountains, don't think I'm any different than you, just a lot more in shape.