Writing Forums

Writing Forums is a privately-owned, community managed writing environment. We provide an unlimited opportunity for writers and poets of all abilities, to share their work and communicate with other writers and creative artists. We offer an experience that is safe, welcoming and friendly, regardless of your level of participation, knowledge or skill. There are several opportunities for writers to exchange tips, engage in discussions about techniques, and grow in your craft. You can also participate in forum competitions that are exciting and helpful in building your skill level. There's so much more for you to explore!

The St. Marks Lighthouse Bicycle Trip (1 Viewer)



I wrote this JUST IN CASE a teacher asked me to write something like a "Life experience" or "Discriptive Essay" or "Enter an essay into the contest for extra credit."

The St. Marks Lighthouse Bicycle Trip

The twenty-five of us stepped out of the trucks and vans and onto the asphalt. We walked over to the small, enclosed, red Boy Scout troop trailer and began to unload a massive row of bicycles. We had just driven from our primitive camping ground to this RV campsite. We tested out our bicycles out in the fifteen-hundred square feet of parking lot while people got things set up, and checked to see that they had everything. Our objective was to ride our bikes to the fifteen miles St. Marks lighthouse, and to ride them back. We put on our canteens, camelbacks, and backpacks. We got onto our bicycles, formed a single line, and crossed the street.

We traveled along an unused forest highway. All of us rode on the left side of the road, while an adult leader in a SUV followed in the back. It stared out very slowly. I was behind Harrison, and short new boy to the troop who’s bicycle tires were a good three feet in diameter. We plodded along at a relaxing, but frustrating, two miles per hour. When I had had enough of this I passed him, only to be stopped by the next new boy going three miles per hour.

Suddenly, the two bicycles ahead jerked violently and the bikes and their riders were on the ground. Those closest, one of them being me, stopped and looked at them. They were not injured, so I pulled one of them up by the hand while the other stood up on his own. Apparently the kid in front wasn’t going fast enough for the kid in back and he was following too closely, and their wheels had collided.

We stopped at the gate of the state park, and the older boys, (I being included) decided that if we were not going to run over anyone else, we had to get out in front. So before anyone could tell us not too, we took off as fast as we could along the road.

As we peddled along the road the scenery began to change from that forest highway to more of a half soil half sand with a few trees around. I hit the zone where you can keep peddling without getting very tired, and still be going almost full speed. We passed many mile markers, as they counted up to fifteen.

Mile Eleven, my throat hurt from breathing hard, my legs hurt from peddling, my stomach growled with hunger. The group was far apart, but we were all traveling about the same speed. I could just see Matt one hundred yards in front of me before he would go around a curve, and just behind me I could see Robby one hundred yards before I would go around a curve. I could see the coast now, the blue water turning to white as the waters washed up against the beach.

Mile Thirteen, my body told me to take a break, but my mind said to keep going. I was still going rather fast. Mile fourteen, the sight of the lighthouse raised my sprits, and I knew that my journey for this leg was almost over. Mile fifteen, as I looked ahead, I could see Matt stumble off of his bike and collapse on the grass in an exaggerated sign of relief. We had finally made it! I pulled up and got off of my Bike. My legs felt like they were full of Helium. I made my way over the a picnic table and unzipped my backpack and found a tuna salad sandwich. It had to be the tastiest tuna fish sandwich I have ever had.
After almost Forty-five minutes later the rest of the troop showed up. The lighthouse was locked, so all we could do is look at it and look through the windows. While we were waiting for other people to finish, Matt came up with the ingenious idea to duct tape speakers and a CD player to the handle bars of his bicycle. As we drank soda and ate whatever people didn’t want, we discussed Halo 2. It had just come out he day before, and I had such a desire to get it I just yelled out “HALLLOOOOOOOOOOO!”

We were on the road again, and again the older boys got way ahead. We stayed in close proximity of Matt as we listened to Heavy Metal songs such as “Du Hast” by Rammstein and “Battery” by Metallica. We began passing each other and screaming “HALLLOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” as if we were racing home, so we could go out and buy it from any store that might have had it in stock.

We raced along the beach, and we were completely cut off from the younger group. Unlike the first time we did not take any breaks whatsoever. We raced through the forest highway, and we crossed the street back into the RV park. Breathing hard we collapsed on the picnic tables they had set up there. We just lay sprawled on the benches and the tables for a few minutes before anyone said anything. It was almost an hour before we saw anyone, the first being my younger brother and my Dad.

Then twenty minutes later the stragglers pulled up. A lot of the younger boys had just climbed in the SUV and so did “The Troop Fat Kid” Drew. We all laughed about drew being too lazy to finish with his bicycle, and we all loaded our bicycles back into the trailer. We all climbed back into the Pick-up trucks and vans, and drove back to the campsite to have supper and then to sleep in our tents and go home the next morning.