Think of the storm roaming the sky uneasily
like a dog looking for a place to sleep in, listen to it growling.” “To the intelligent, nature converts itself into a vast promise, and will not be rashly explained.” -Ralph Waldo Emerson It was August, Summer 2013. Wednesday, at soccer camp. Coach had just dismissed us. Me and my friend Jack Miller were walking to get our bikes. We looked up, and saw dark, growing clouds, looking as though they were about to let out an immense shower of water. They were menacing, and had an aura that meant business. It made me visualize the worst rainstorm on Earth, but even worse. And guess what happened, just as we hopped on our bikes. It did just what I had previously described. It started to rain. And when I mean rain, I mean RAIN. The rain clouds were a pitcher of water, pouring down at us like crazy, the rain traveling at incredible speeds from the clouds, raiding down at us. We couldn’t even hear each other speak as the deafening roar drowned all sounds except its own. We sat on our bikes and started to ride, or should I say, inch up the hill. We couldn’t even ride up it because of the rain and how slippery the road felt. It made my muscles feel like they we riding up a mountain encased in an everlasting coat of ice. In other words, the hill was not letting us get up. To make it even worse, the winds gusted, with sudden breezes blasting at us with a gargantuan amount of force. When we rode even one foot, it was a milestone. Eventually, after very hard work, we reached the top of the hill. That’s when the fun began. Jack and I were going really fast as we glided down the sidewalks and streets. The water felt like a burst of energy as it hit us; it just made us go even faster. It also felt really refreshing after a hard morning of soccer. It almost felt like flying. I was drenched to the bone, but I didn’t care. Jack and I yelled with joy. It was an awesome experience. Then, it came. The hill. Located at Florence Avenue down to Runnymede Avenue. Actually, not just the hill, but the hill that might just assist in breaking the record for fastest speed on a bike while it was raining. Okay, that might not be a real thing, but to us at the moment it was. We looked down the edge. The rain was battering the road, showing no mercy. The wind ferociously blew the trees back and forth like the big pine trees were little twigs. The power of the storm stopped me, and I spoke for the first time. “ Let’s go.” That’s all it took for us to start pedaling as fast as we could down the hill. Honestly, and I bet Jack would say this too, it felt like the rain wasn’t even touching me. It was like a day at the waterpark, except it wasn’t all nice and sunny. I heard the gales of wind shot past me, not the screams of happy riders. Here I saw a wall of water in front of me, not a clear blue sky and the sun. Here I tasted the rain as it bombarded me, not the fresh, crisp air and the cool breeze. That’s how fast we were going. This event showed me how fun rain, and nature, could be. It can make the coolest moments of your life happen. I hope you think again next time its raining and you want to stay indoors.
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