Hello, this is my essay im submitting to UNCW for the Admissions process.
Solo
"OK, this is your spot, Connor," my instructor told me this and nothing more. Two weeks prior to this moment I was safe at home, away from the dangers and the solitude of the world. My family and I were getting ready for a movie night before I was to wake up for a plane ride to Seattle, Washington, to engage a rigorous three week Outward Bound course. That night's choice was "Deliverance," selected by my father, who couldn't stop laughing for reasons that only he knew at the time. Needless to say, after the film, I crawled into bed and had second thoughts about my "trip of a lifetime." I now understood why my father was in tears laughing, what a sick sense of humor he has! Morning came; it was the first time I had ever been on a plane alone, much less crossing the country. The flight was somewhat of a bore but I probably would have appreciated it more had I known what I was to face in the weeks ahead. Finally, after two transfers, I arrived in Seattle, Washington, where I stood in awe of Mount Rainer. Surely I was not going to climb this mountain! One look and I suddenly became quite skittish as an image of my falling a thousand feet to my death sprang into mind like something out from a Stephen King novel. The fear passed as I ignored my thoughts with an iPod. Soothing tunes of bliss and comfort washed my fears away like soap on dirty hands. In the distance, a sign that read "Outward Bound" was waving next to a restored 1985 school bus of some sort, which did not look very safe. As I walked inside the nearly dilapidated bus, I saw only strangers, who would in the following weeks become my best friends. We were all different, each one bringing something new to the table, and we were eager to discover more about the people we would eat, sleep, and haul gear and provisions with for the next twenty-three days.
The course requirements included kayaking the Puget Sound waters and climbing the Mt. Rainer trails covering the mountain. The kayaking portion of the course lasted a week and a half, and primarily focused on upper body strength. This was not a problem as I had been working for a volunteer fire department in Durham, NC, for a year prior to the trip. Yet, after day ten days of paddling for nine straight hours a day to individual islands as if we were warriors entering enemy territory on our small battleships, I had no shame in moaning, "Enough!"
Again we were put on a bus for hours, yet this time, nobody had iPods or CD players. No one minded that they had been taken away at the start of the course, for now everybody knew everyone else inside and out. We would have had no problem stirring up a conversation if the trip had lasted twice as long. The next morning new gear was given out to the six guys and four girls who I now called friends. Backpacking, course two, was now in effect. It was not as difficult as I had thought it would be on the plane or when I first stood staring up at Mount Rainier. By now I had learned to set up my own tent and camp site, which would be beneficial during my solo in the upcoming days. This part of the program was incredible at first, seeing the vast mountain ranges below like a god over his creation. Yet, as the journey continued I could feel the air becoming thinner. The heat on my body was rising with every step up the enormous mountain that only seemed endless. Hours passed, finally a rest; if you could call it that. We had set up Camp next to a mosquito infested lake, literally millions of blood sucking insects swooned their next target, us. Night came, and I can honestly say that I would not wish the experience on my worst enemy. It seemed as though the creatures in Dante's Inferno had jumped out of their world and into mine, never again will I underestimate the value of a good nights sleep. The next morning, it was more of the same. Mosquito bites on my face, arms, and legs; I was ready to get the hell out of Dodge, but not so fast. First I had to face the solo portion of the course. Two days alone in the woods, no one to talk to, and no one to help if things got rough. My instructor selected a random spot next to a stream and gave me enough food for one day.
It was easy in the beginning: I had my memories of kayaking and backpacking to keep me company. And although I loved those memories, they started to resemble an unwanted house guest in my mind; I had replayed them so many times that I had started to bore myself. I looked at my watch, only forty-five minutes had passed. Forty-five minutes and I was already bored. By now I had set up my tarp and campsite, and gathered food and water for the next day. I had done everything necessary for survival in the deep woods, now it was a matter of whether I could keep my sanity. Finally an idea came to me: I created a game based upon a score keeping system, using simply sticks and rocks I found lying around the campsite. It was a simple game, throw the rocks into the squares made up of four sticks, smaller squares being more points than bigger squares. It was very entertaining, but then like most teenagers, I grew weary of the distraction. I was certain that I had spent at least four hours on this activity. I checked my watch; one hour and fifteen minutes had gone by. I was now angry; there was no way out of this situation with an iPod, television, internet, or friends; just me and my thoughts. I took on the role of a philosopher, asking questions that my previous lifestyle of distraction and noise would never allow. Life, death, future, past, college, relationships, career were all questions that I knew I would face one day but had never seriously contemplated. My mind had become a playground of excitement and wonder as I imagined a new game, the game of LIFE. It seemed as though I was falling into a world of "what if's"; but on contrary, I was emerging into the real world. I had not seriously considered my future up until now. Where will I go to college? Where will I live after I graduate? Will I get married? Will I have kids? I need to begin with the end in mind. How will I get to where I want to go? The solo, the first of many as I approach adulthood, gave me time to think about what was important.
"Connor, wake up!" I awoke in a daze. Was it just a dream, or had I started to map out my future? I was back in the real world. As slowly as the first hours dragged on, the final day and a half flew as I imagined my possibilities. My whole life is ahead of me, I have a better understanding of who I am and what it will take to get me where I want to go in life. I'll make decisions, good and bad, and learn a lot about myself along the way.
I would like to know if this is something they would be looking for. Please, feel free to correct any grammatical errors. or tell me how it could be better.
Solo
"OK, this is your spot, Connor," my instructor told me this and nothing more. Two weeks prior to this moment I was safe at home, away from the dangers and the solitude of the world. My family and I were getting ready for a movie night before I was to wake up for a plane ride to Seattle, Washington, to engage a rigorous three week Outward Bound course. That night's choice was "Deliverance," selected by my father, who couldn't stop laughing for reasons that only he knew at the time. Needless to say, after the film, I crawled into bed and had second thoughts about my "trip of a lifetime." I now understood why my father was in tears laughing, what a sick sense of humor he has! Morning came; it was the first time I had ever been on a plane alone, much less crossing the country. The flight was somewhat of a bore but I probably would have appreciated it more had I known what I was to face in the weeks ahead. Finally, after two transfers, I arrived in Seattle, Washington, where I stood in awe of Mount Rainer. Surely I was not going to climb this mountain! One look and I suddenly became quite skittish as an image of my falling a thousand feet to my death sprang into mind like something out from a Stephen King novel. The fear passed as I ignored my thoughts with an iPod. Soothing tunes of bliss and comfort washed my fears away like soap on dirty hands. In the distance, a sign that read "Outward Bound" was waving next to a restored 1985 school bus of some sort, which did not look very safe. As I walked inside the nearly dilapidated bus, I saw only strangers, who would in the following weeks become my best friends. We were all different, each one bringing something new to the table, and we were eager to discover more about the people we would eat, sleep, and haul gear and provisions with for the next twenty-three days.
The course requirements included kayaking the Puget Sound waters and climbing the Mt. Rainer trails covering the mountain. The kayaking portion of the course lasted a week and a half, and primarily focused on upper body strength. This was not a problem as I had been working for a volunteer fire department in Durham, NC, for a year prior to the trip. Yet, after day ten days of paddling for nine straight hours a day to individual islands as if we were warriors entering enemy territory on our small battleships, I had no shame in moaning, "Enough!"
Again we were put on a bus for hours, yet this time, nobody had iPods or CD players. No one minded that they had been taken away at the start of the course, for now everybody knew everyone else inside and out. We would have had no problem stirring up a conversation if the trip had lasted twice as long. The next morning new gear was given out to the six guys and four girls who I now called friends. Backpacking, course two, was now in effect. It was not as difficult as I had thought it would be on the plane or when I first stood staring up at Mount Rainier. By now I had learned to set up my own tent and camp site, which would be beneficial during my solo in the upcoming days. This part of the program was incredible at first, seeing the vast mountain ranges below like a god over his creation. Yet, as the journey continued I could feel the air becoming thinner. The heat on my body was rising with every step up the enormous mountain that only seemed endless. Hours passed, finally a rest; if you could call it that. We had set up Camp next to a mosquito infested lake, literally millions of blood sucking insects swooned their next target, us. Night came, and I can honestly say that I would not wish the experience on my worst enemy. It seemed as though the creatures in Dante's Inferno had jumped out of their world and into mine, never again will I underestimate the value of a good nights sleep. The next morning, it was more of the same. Mosquito bites on my face, arms, and legs; I was ready to get the hell out of Dodge, but not so fast. First I had to face the solo portion of the course. Two days alone in the woods, no one to talk to, and no one to help if things got rough. My instructor selected a random spot next to a stream and gave me enough food for one day.
It was easy in the beginning: I had my memories of kayaking and backpacking to keep me company. And although I loved those memories, they started to resemble an unwanted house guest in my mind; I had replayed them so many times that I had started to bore myself. I looked at my watch, only forty-five minutes had passed. Forty-five minutes and I was already bored. By now I had set up my tarp and campsite, and gathered food and water for the next day. I had done everything necessary for survival in the deep woods, now it was a matter of whether I could keep my sanity. Finally an idea came to me: I created a game based upon a score keeping system, using simply sticks and rocks I found lying around the campsite. It was a simple game, throw the rocks into the squares made up of four sticks, smaller squares being more points than bigger squares. It was very entertaining, but then like most teenagers, I grew weary of the distraction. I was certain that I had spent at least four hours on this activity. I checked my watch; one hour and fifteen minutes had gone by. I was now angry; there was no way out of this situation with an iPod, television, internet, or friends; just me and my thoughts. I took on the role of a philosopher, asking questions that my previous lifestyle of distraction and noise would never allow. Life, death, future, past, college, relationships, career were all questions that I knew I would face one day but had never seriously contemplated. My mind had become a playground of excitement and wonder as I imagined a new game, the game of LIFE. It seemed as though I was falling into a world of "what if's"; but on contrary, I was emerging into the real world. I had not seriously considered my future up until now. Where will I go to college? Where will I live after I graduate? Will I get married? Will I have kids? I need to begin with the end in mind. How will I get to where I want to go? The solo, the first of many as I approach adulthood, gave me time to think about what was important.
"Connor, wake up!" I awoke in a daze. Was it just a dream, or had I started to map out my future? I was back in the real world. As slowly as the first hours dragged on, the final day and a half flew as I imagined my possibilities. My whole life is ahead of me, I have a better understanding of who I am and what it will take to get me where I want to go in life. I'll make decisions, good and bad, and learn a lot about myself along the way.
I would like to know if this is something they would be looking for. Please, feel free to correct any grammatical errors. or tell me how it could be better.
