Thursday, March 20, 2008
Someday's Dreamers by Jose D.
Deep down in everyone’s heart there is a desire, a dream, to be something or someone who will be remembered. It is these dreams that drive us, motivate us, govern us on the paths we choose to make them a reality. Whether the dream is simply to be a firefighter, or something as big as a famous actor, no dream is too farfetched.
But until we achieve our goals we are only conceptual realities.
In the beginning, we all strike out for the top, the large goal. Over time, those who hold on to the high standards become someday’s now. At the top of the world. Most, however, give up early and only take what they are comfortable with, because they are afraid of responsibility.
I personally have a dream to be a famous screenwriter of multiple hit movies, and to be a novelist as well. Even now, I work to achieve my dream, writing short stories and fan fictions of my favorite animes. I practice my writing all the time, and most importantly, I enjoy what I do.
I look at myself as someday’s tomorrow, hoping I will one day be someday’s now. I will eventually become someday’s yesterday, and only my titles will be remembered.
Even if I am forgotten with time, I know I will have accomplished my dreams. I will be truly happy and my life will be fulfilled if the work of my someday’s yesterday remains around and inspires the upcoming new generation: Someday’s Dreamers.
But until we achieve our goals we are only conceptual realities.
In the beginning, we all strike out for the top, the large goal. Over time, those who hold on to the high standards become someday’s now. At the top of the world. Most, however, give up early and only take what they are comfortable with, because they are afraid of responsibility.
I personally have a dream to be a famous screenwriter of multiple hit movies, and to be a novelist as well. Even now, I work to achieve my dream, writing short stories and fan fictions of my favorite animes. I practice my writing all the time, and most importantly, I enjoy what I do.
I look at myself as someday’s tomorrow, hoping I will one day be someday’s now. I will eventually become someday’s yesterday, and only my titles will be remembered.
Even if I am forgotten with time, I know I will have accomplished my dreams. I will be truly happy and my life will be fulfilled if the work of my someday’s yesterday remains around and inspires the upcoming new generation: Someday’s Dreamers.
Dreams by Sarah T.
Everyone has dreams,
Or so it seems.
But some are afraid to take the stage.
To take a risk,
To be brisk,
To leap forward into the unknown.
Am I ready?
Am I setty?
Am I go?
To reach for my goal,
That is deep within my soul,
Hidden among the dark?
I stand back and watch,
I see every notch,
That people make to reach their dreams.
I think to myself,
“Should I put my dream on the shelf?”
Am I a hopeless case?
No, I want to try.
I’m not going to let my dreams pass by.
I see others succeeding; I want to succeed too.
I want to be a dreamer.
I want to dream.
I want to try.
I will…
Succeed.
Or so it seems.
But some are afraid to take the stage.
To take a risk,
To be brisk,
To leap forward into the unknown.
Am I ready?
Am I setty?
Am I go?
To reach for my goal,
That is deep within my soul,
Hidden among the dark?
I stand back and watch,
I see every notch,
That people make to reach their dreams.
I think to myself,
“Should I put my dream on the shelf?”
Am I a hopeless case?
No, I want to try.
I’m not going to let my dreams pass by.
I see others succeeding; I want to succeed too.
I want to be a dreamer.
I want to dream.
I want to try.
I will…
Succeed.
Goals in Life by Trey L.
Hey! How’s it goin’? Ya’ know, goals are very important in life because in order to “live” you gotta have ‘em. At least, that’s my philosophy. Mine might not be that important to you, but guess what? I’m gonna tell you anyway! Ha ha!
Well, my first goal in life is, of course, to get a job. You know how our parents are always saying, “Do you have the money?” if we ever wanted to do something, and then we would always have to say, “no.” Things like that really ticked me off.
Then, when I get out of high school, I will go to University of South Carolina, where I will study Zoology and major in English. I hope to play football for USC and be the best linebacker they ever had. While in college I would like to get a job as a bouncer to pay for it. I would try to stay in college for the four years but you know… I would try!
After I graduate, I want to meet the girl of my dreams, get married, have two kids and get a job as a gym teacher/football coach.
Then, I could live a happy life, and die a happy man.
Well, my first goal in life is, of course, to get a job. You know how our parents are always saying, “Do you have the money?” if we ever wanted to do something, and then we would always have to say, “no.” Things like that really ticked me off.
Then, when I get out of high school, I will go to University of South Carolina, where I will study Zoology and major in English. I hope to play football for USC and be the best linebacker they ever had. While in college I would like to get a job as a bouncer to pay for it. I would try to stay in college for the four years but you know… I would try!
After I graduate, I want to meet the girl of my dreams, get married, have two kids and get a job as a gym teacher/football coach.
Then, I could live a happy life, and die a happy man.
This Little Piggy by Chasity G.
Upon our return from expedition six, we were informed of nine new additions to the FMA family─nine little piglets, that is.Blue is the proud momma of these squealing, bristly, little bundles. They are about 2 weeks old. Now they are just big enough to be traveling inside and outside of the pen. A few times we students have had to go catch them and put them back in their pen, and boy how they squeal! We cannot really do much with them now, being as small as they are, but we are gladly waiting.
Today I had the privilege of doing my work chores right next to the pigpen. It was highly amusing to watch this one piglet, which I will call Zuni. Ever since I started working, Zuni was the only piglet out of the pig shed, going in and out of the pen, chasing his momma around, trying to get something to drink and having a stare down with a chicken. It was like a game of red light green light. They were walking side-by-side, then Zuni stopped, and the chicken stopped. Zuni would go two steps forward and stop again, and again, while the chicken did the same. After a few minutes of non-stop imitation, Zuni ran off squealing and grunting for Blue.
Well, before too long, Zuni’s siblings decided to come out and take a look around, although they all changed their minds and hightailed it back to the pig shed once a cold breeze came through. Everyone that is, except the runt Small Fry and Zuni. They wrestled and tried to catch a chicken and got mouthfuls of dirt. Small Fry and Zuni both stayed outside with Blue until my chores were done. When I left they were curled up sleeping and grunting in the warm sunlight.
Animals at FMA by Aidan M.
When we got to FMA there were nine goats, seven cows, six cats, four ducks, three pigs, one dog, and more chickens than I am willing to count. The neighbors dog, Bill Taylor, a satanic flock of wild turkeys with whom I have had many bad experiences in “Aidan’s Hole,” on top of the hill, and the clown cows who live next door with Bill, complete the animal community at FMA.As Spring Break nears, after slaughtering some for food, some sick ones dying out, and new births and purchases, we have 13 pigs (2 old,) 9 goats, 7 cows( 3 old,) 6 same old cats, 4 ducks that refuse to fly or do anything to change their duck lives, a lot less chickens, and loveable Zoey (the dog).
Newborns are a big deal at FMA. At the end of February, we were graced with a new Jersey milk cow and her bull calf, and Sweetie’s litter of nine pink piglets. So, life goes on for some (RIP: George, Buck, White Chocolate, and about 80 chickens), but for the rest it’s long days and cool nights in a waiting game for the day the freezer beckons.
Chilling by Patrick F.
Most of the time here at FMA is spent working, studying, etc., but on the weekend (if you have not been given work hours) we get a day-and-a-half just to chill. During this time, one can get bored easily, but it is like they say here, “the intelligent person is never bored.”The main enjoyment here (in my opinion) is simply music. Even though we are denied the simple joy of listening to pre-recorded music, we are allowed and encouraged by some, to create our own. An out of tune piano, a couple of acoustic guitars, a bass and whatever else we can come up with provides hours of fun jamming. We musicians always look forward to the weekend for new jam sessions. Whether we’re improvising, playing songs we know and love, or even playing music we wrote ourselves, we always have fun enjoying each other’s musical abilities.
If you aren’t jamming, you might read a book, play a board game or just sit around the fire and talk. Sometimes a few other guys and I will just heat up a bowl of maté, pass it around and talk about the “important issues in life” as they call them here. Although some would write our discussions off as “mindless teen babble” we enjoy our conversations and ignore any prejudicial convictions toward them.
The board game arena is a great way to pass the time; just get ready to put your money where your mouth is. As the weekend goes on, players become more and more serious, until there are ten dollar a piece, winner take all, Risk games going on. If you want to bypass the board game and just go straight to putting your money where your mouth is, there is, of course, poker. With pots getting up to twenty dollars, novices have to beware they don’t bankrupt themselves in a few hands. Texas Hold ‘Em’s the favorite, although there are others that can be equally profitable or unprofitable depending on your luck.
Sometimes, we just feel like sitting back and reading a book. Fortunately FMA has quite a library and there is also a system set up for swapping your own books between the heavy readers here, and some of us have quite a collection. All this creates the recipe for a very chill weekend.
The board game arena is a great way to pass the time; just get ready to put your money where your mouth is. As the weekend goes on, players become more and more serious, until there are ten dollar a piece, winner take all, Risk games going on. If you want to bypass the board game and just go straight to putting your money where your mouth is, there is, of course, poker. With pots getting up to twenty dollars, novices have to beware they don’t bankrupt themselves in a few hands. Texas Hold ‘Em’s the favorite, although there are others that can be equally profitable or unprofitable depending on your luck.
Sometimes, we just feel like sitting back and reading a book. Fortunately FMA has quite a library and there is also a system set up for swapping your own books between the heavy readers here, and some of us have quite a collection. All this creates the recipe for a very chill weekend.
Sofie in Spain by Brandon H.
Brandon: Sofia, I hear you are a frequent visitor to Spain. Is this true?Sofia: Yes. Almost every summer since I was 2. For 3 months.
BH: So, how different is the culture there?
SC: It is very different. It’s more laid back than American culture. Everyday, everyone is rushing here. It’s not like that in Spain.
BH: Tell us about the people.
SC: Well they speak Spanish
BH: Anything else?
SC: Other than that, they are just neighborly. You can talk to someone in the street and they won’t think you are weird. Just stuff like that. Also people in Spain walk around a lot more in the cities instead of driving; everything is closer.
BH: So how about sports?
SC: What about them?
BH: Do you enjoy the sports played there better? How are they different? Just go ahead, divulge.
SC: In Spain, like it is in most European countries, it is about soccer and Spain is very renowned for its soccer teams. I’m a fan of Real Madrid.
BH: Former home of David Beckham?
SC: Yes, David Beckham’s old team. But he’s so bad we traded him to America where soccer is much worse.
BH: Yet every other sport is better. Tell us about Madrid.
SC: Well, it is the capital of Spain.
BH: How many people reside there?
SC: I don’t know the numbers, but a lot.
BH: Which other countries in Europe have you been to?
SC: France and Italy.
BH: Of France, Italy and Spain, which is your favorite?
SC: Spain, by far.
BH: So what’s your favorite part of Spain?
SC: I think it would have to be the beaches. They are very beautiful.
BH: Any difference in the food?
SC: America is all about the burgers and pizza, but Spain is more varied.
BH: And the fruit?
SC: It is far fresher and way sweeter.
BH: In conclusion, if you had to choose between America and Spain, where would you live?
SC: I’d choose America, because it is my home, and I’ve lived here all of my life.
Reality by Larissa B.
Light and darkness come to me,
While I’m shrouded in my sleep,
The light is bliss and makes me free,
The dark is always haunting me
It won’t just let me be.
Light makes me Jubilantly soar,
The world dissolves around me,
And my life cares no more,
This is how I want to be,
Absolutely free.
The darkness is defeatable,
The power solely mine,
And though my dreams repeatable,
I can change them anytime,
I can make the bright line shine.
Because I control that place,
My mind can make it bend,
The truth in any case,
And ‘twas not pretend,
I wish it would never end.
There’s so much I’ll never know,
And I wish I could stay,
Or at least I could go,
For a little while and play,
For just one perfect day.
Dream world is such an abstract place,
With concepts too mystic to detail,
Its spreads as diaphanous lace,
And though it may be frail,
It’ll catch me if I fail.
I want my esoteric place,
Though I know that it I feigned,
It’s secrets only I chase,
But on the earth I’m chained,
I wish to dwell in my dream world again.
While I’m shrouded in my sleep,
The light is bliss and makes me free,
The dark is always haunting me
It won’t just let me be.
Light makes me Jubilantly soar,
The world dissolves around me,
And my life cares no more,
This is how I want to be,
Absolutely free.
The darkness is defeatable,
The power solely mine,
And though my dreams repeatable,
I can change them anytime,
I can make the bright line shine.
Because I control that place,
My mind can make it bend,
The truth in any case,
And ‘twas not pretend,
I wish it would never end.
There’s so much I’ll never know,
And I wish I could stay,
Or at least I could go,
For a little while and play,
For just one perfect day.
Dream world is such an abstract place,
With concepts too mystic to detail,
Its spreads as diaphanous lace,
And though it may be frail,
It’ll catch me if I fail.
I want my esoteric place,
Though I know that it I feigned,
It’s secrets only I chase,
But on the earth I’m chained,
I wish to dwell in my dream world again.
The Keeper of Small Things by Pat S.
Sitting on a dock. A dock on a lake, bored.
I used to think I could be the keeper, the owner of small things. The little hole in a leaf eaten away by a hungry insect, the half-submerged pinecone on the waters edge, rotting, turning moss green at its tips, the dried flower, dead, gray as iron, shattering between my fingertips: all my little secrets.
A blade of grass hugs the soil and hangs a few inches over the Jello-wire water. A spider spins a strand from the top to the root, then another below it. He’s so little! He goes up and down this blade of grass, walking every inch of it. His web gets bigger, it starts to take shape. “You’re sick,” I think, “but you get the job done.”
I think, then, how special this little spider is. Every moment he has lived, until now, has been part of a formula that has brought him inevitably to this piece of grass today. And I too, have always in my 19 years of life, been destined to sit and watch this spider. Our paths in this universe have collided, despite the odds.
For example: If a bird landed next to any one of this spider’s billions of ancestors and decided to eat it, no spider spinning a web on a beat piece of grass today. Multiply that by the odds he was born and survived and that I was born and survived and you realize that we’re some lucky dudes.
I need a jar. I take off my shoe and carefully place it over the spider and his web so he won’t run away, then book it to my house. I dump the remains of a Ragu pasta sauce jar into the sink and run back to the dock. Out of breath, I carefully pick up the shoe and gently feel for my friend. As I ponder the chance that my friend will bite me, and whether he’s poisonous or not, I feel the slightest crunch under my finger. Sorry, friend.
I used to think I could be the keeper, the owner of small things. The little hole in a leaf eaten away by a hungry insect, the half-submerged pinecone on the waters edge, rotting, turning moss green at its tips, the dried flower, dead, gray as iron, shattering between my fingertips: all my little secrets.
A blade of grass hugs the soil and hangs a few inches over the Jello-wire water. A spider spins a strand from the top to the root, then another below it. He’s so little! He goes up and down this blade of grass, walking every inch of it. His web gets bigger, it starts to take shape. “You’re sick,” I think, “but you get the job done.”
I think, then, how special this little spider is. Every moment he has lived, until now, has been part of a formula that has brought him inevitably to this piece of grass today. And I too, have always in my 19 years of life, been destined to sit and watch this spider. Our paths in this universe have collided, despite the odds.
For example: If a bird landed next to any one of this spider’s billions of ancestors and decided to eat it, no spider spinning a web on a beat piece of grass today. Multiply that by the odds he was born and survived and that I was born and survived and you realize that we’re some lucky dudes.
I need a jar. I take off my shoe and carefully place it over the spider and his web so he won’t run away, then book it to my house. I dump the remains of a Ragu pasta sauce jar into the sink and run back to the dock. Out of breath, I carefully pick up the shoe and gently feel for my friend. As I ponder the chance that my friend will bite me, and whether he’s poisonous or not, I feel the slightest crunch under my finger. Sorry, friend.
Book Review: American Gods by Jose D.
What are gods? They are what human’s create and believe in, in order to gain spiritual strength. This premise is at the heart of Neil Gaiman’s novel American Gods. Known for creating the popular Sandman series of graphic novels, Gaiman’s novel explores what happens when god’s lose their significance. Do they die? What takes their place?This story center around a man named Shadow, who is returning home to start a new life after being released from jail. On the way, he is approached by a mysterious man who calls himself Mr. Wednesday, and who offers Shadow a job. Through Shadow the book takes us on a journey of events, leading up to war between the forgotten gods of the old, and the new “American Gods” of television, computers, and others including a federal organization similar to the FBI, which exists only because people believe it exists.
Gaiman has incorporated extensive mythological history in compiling the gods of this book, blending Norse, African, Egyptian, Albanian, and many, many more mythologies.
This book earns a 5 (out of 5) star rating because it is rich, entertaining, and has a purely original story line. It has fascinating characters that enrich the story as a whole, in a classic blend of old and new mythology. Throughout the book, there is use of actual landmarks in America, which is outstanding. This book is truly a treasure, and I am glad we have someone with as great a mind as Neil Gaiman. I recommend this book to all readers ages 13 and above.
Movie Review: Requiem For a Dream by Noah E.
Requiem For a Dream is a thrilling movie portraying the dangers of drugs. The movie tells the story of a man in his early twenties named Harry, who is hopelessly addicted to heroin. He and his girlfriend, Miriam, must navigate through their world of drugs. There is also a sub-plot that tells the story of Harry’s mother who having become obsessed with losing weight, begins to take uppers as diet pills which slowly drives her insane.In the movie Harry, Miriam, and his best friend move up from every day heroin users to full time street dealers. They hit a lucky streak, and life is beginning to look up, but soon their world comes crashing down. First, their supplier is killed, and now not only do they not have enough heroin to sell, but they are all in the grips of massive drug addictions. They begin to struggle just to get enough heroin to make it through the day. Harry and his best friend, desperate to be back on top, scour the city for a new supplier, until, finally, they decide to go to Florida for a big score. As they are traveling to Florida, a series of events causes them to deteriorate mentally and physically until they are both in a living hell.
Meanwhile, Harry’s mother receives a letter from her favorite television game show telling her that she might become a contestant. She becomes obsessed with losing weight, and increasingly desperate to look like she did so many years ago in her favorite red dress, quickly becomes addicted to diet pills. The show suddenly seems like the answer to all her problems; if she can just get on the show in the red dress, she’ll win, Harry’s life will get back on track and everything will turn out perfect.
Darren Aronofsky put his heart and soul into this picture. The way he divided the movie into seasons is just amazing. The soundtrack, which is a beautiful fusion of techno and classical music, enhances every intense moment of the movie. By the time the movie was over I felt grateful for my life.
This movie is a testament to Darren Aronofsky’s genius, the actors’ abilities, and the composer’s originality. The scene progression has you feeling the significance of every scene like it is the climax of the movie. This movie easily rates 5/5 stars.
Darren Aronofsky put his heart and soul into this picture. The way he divided the movie into seasons is just amazing. The soundtrack, which is a beautiful fusion of techno and classical music, enhances every intense moment of the movie. By the time the movie was over I felt grateful for my life.
This movie is a testament to Darren Aronofsky’s genius, the actors’ abilities, and the composer’s originality. The scene progression has you feeling the significance of every scene like it is the climax of the movie. This movie easily rates 5/5 stars.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Expedition #6 by Larissa B.
The March Expedition was remarkable in that it was the first of its kind in 17 years of AR and FMA history.
To begin with, we were hit with a variety of stomach viruses, causing prolonged vomiting and diarrhea, both of which are exhausting for all that they seek to rid the body of toxins. The toxins from this strain were apparently able to reproduce as fast or faster than the body could get rid of them by both methods mentioned above.
Mr. Kevin said it reminded him of the situation at Plymouth in 1621, where people were crawling from the sick bed as others were crawling in. There was no way to foretell how many would go down, or how long they would stay down, nevertheless the expedition went forward with one concession—the cancelling of the first day due to cold, rainy and snowy weather.
We departed on Sunday, on time, and managed to hike to our first objective, which was well over halfway to the top. When Monday dawned, the staff had to decide whether to push through the steep final portion or rest for a day in the hopes
that those who were still sick would recover. They opted not to push sick bodies further into the mountains, where evacuation, should it be necessary would be more difficult.
The Tuesday SMEAC called for all hands to be up, fed, packed and ready to go by 9 a.m., either Eastwards (deeper in) or Westward back to
Gentry Creek where evacuation would be more easily accomplished.
On Tuesday at 9 a.m. we were told, “We are hiking Westward.” After a relatively short hike down to Gentry Creek, we set up camp in a new area which had abundant firewood and was close to a good water supply. Part of that day was spent in classes, alternating with breaks to feed our fires (and for those of us who think ahead, preparing supper which could be heating
while we were in class.) Half of the class (those not battling stomach problems) headed back up Cate Branch Trail to make minor, but significant improvements where flooding had washed away a bridge a few years earlier. The remaining students remained in camp, hauling water and gathering wood.
Wednesday began with a hike to Gentry Falls, with short stops along the way to observe wilderness features that might be helpful for those who plan to do wilderness expeditions after leaving FMA.
The weather was fine and the falls amid their setting of rock faces and evergreen trees was quite amazing. Our return hike, being gradually downhill all the way, put no strain on anybody.
The following morning began with calm, cool, clear weather. After cooking breakfast we assembled for classes which lasted until it was time to return to our camps, extinguish what was left of our fires, take down tents, put on our packs and move out at 12:55. The hike to the assembly point for transportation was easy and uneventful in as much as all of it was on good roads sloping gently downward.
We were told that in the event that this expedition had been a genuine search and rescue mission, we would not have turned back, for all that we would, naturally, leave behind any who were sick or recuperating. But such was not the case, and we were better able to use the time for classes, a pleasant day hike, and some needed trail repairs, none of which overly stressed those who were fighting that dad-blamed stomach virus.
The weather was so fine throughout the expedition, that it was a liability, in that it creates a false sense of ease while hiking in the small but very challenging mountain ranges during early springtime. A false sense of security and over-confidence can create a dangerously misleading attitude toward the mountains; an attitude similar to that of those who sail out into the ocean in good weather and thus become over confident of what their boat can do when nature gets a little tough.
Seeing it in this light, one can almost understand Mr. Kevin’s misanthropic (downright nasty) wish for bitter cold and rainy weather, but Mother Nature won out again (sigh) and beamed down upon her children who she loves!
To begin with, we were hit with a variety of stomach viruses, causing prolonged vomiting and diarrhea, both of which are exhausting for all that they seek to rid the body of toxins. The toxins from this strain were apparently able to reproduce as fast or faster than the body could get rid of them by both methods mentioned above.
Mr. Kevin said it reminded him of the situation at Plymouth in 1621, where people were crawling from the sick bed as others were crawling in. There was no way to foretell how many would go down, or how long they would stay down, nevertheless the expedition went forward with one concession—the cancelling of the first day due to cold, rainy and snowy weather.We departed on Sunday, on time, and managed to hike to our first objective, which was well over halfway to the top. When Monday dawned, the staff had to decide whether to push through the steep final portion or rest for a day in the hopes
that those who were still sick would recover. They opted not to push sick bodies further into the mountains, where evacuation, should it be necessary would be more difficult.The Tuesday SMEAC called for all hands to be up, fed, packed and ready to go by 9 a.m., either Eastwards (deeper in) or Westward back to
Gentry Creek where evacuation would be more easily accomplished.On Tuesday at 9 a.m. we were told, “We are hiking Westward.” After a relatively short hike down to Gentry Creek, we set up camp in a new area which had abundant firewood and was close to a good water supply. Part of that day was spent in classes, alternating with breaks to feed our fires (and for those of us who think ahead, preparing supper which could be heating
while we were in class.) Half of the class (those not battling stomach problems) headed back up Cate Branch Trail to make minor, but significant improvements where flooding had washed away a bridge a few years earlier. The remaining students remained in camp, hauling water and gathering wood.Wednesday began with a hike to Gentry Falls, with short stops along the way to observe wilderness features that might be helpful for those who plan to do wilderness expeditions after leaving FMA.
The weather was fine and the falls amid their setting of rock faces and evergreen trees was quite amazing. Our return hike, being gradually downhill all the way, put no strain on anybody.
The following morning began with calm, cool, clear weather. After cooking breakfast we assembled for classes which lasted until it was time to return to our camps, extinguish what was left of our fires, take down tents, put on our packs and move out at 12:55. The hike to the assembly point for transportation was easy and uneventful in as much as all of it was on good roads sloping gently downward.We were told that in the event that this expedition had been a genuine search and rescue mission, we would not have turned back, for all that we would, naturally, leave behind any who were sick or recuperating. But such was not the case, and we were better able to use the time for classes, a pleasant day hike, and some needed trail repairs, none of which overly stressed those who were fighting that dad-blamed stomach virus.
The weather was so fine throughout the expedition, that it was a liability, in that it creates a false sense of ease while hiking in the small but very challenging mountain ranges during early springtime. A false sense of security and over-confidence can create a dangerously misleading attitude toward the mountains; an attitude similar to that of those who sail out into the ocean in good weather and thus become over confident of what their boat can do when nature gets a little tough.
Seeing it in this light, one can almost understand Mr. Kevin’s misanthropic (downright nasty) wish for bitter cold and rainy weather, but Mother Nature won out again (sigh) and beamed down upon her children who she loves!
Mountain Musings: Letter from the Editor
Welcome to the first student edited edition of Mountain Musings. Many of the students, myself included, sometimes viewed the previous articles we wrote as just another assignment. Seeing this detachment, the staff decided to do something to inspire us, hence the new student run editorial staff.
I was elected editor in chief. Jose D. as runner up became managing editor. Sarah T., our features editor and Jamie A., our photo editor, round out our staff. The purpose of this is to get the student body involved in the production of the paper, and help create a newsletter that all the students look forward to.
We have had some successes and some failures, but I feel we have done much towards accomplishing this goal. We have tried to liven up the issue a little, and give the students more freedom to write what they want. We hope to continue improving, and both editors and students have great ideas for future issues.
On behalf of the editorial staff, I thank Mr. Dan for giving us this opportunity to be more creative. I’d also like to thank my editors that stuck with me and really helped to get this issue out. I hope we have and will continue to meet your expectations. Thank you.
─Patrick F.
I was elected editor in chief. Jose D. as runner up became managing editor. Sarah T., our features editor and Jamie A., our photo editor, round out our staff. The purpose of this is to get the student body involved in the production of the paper, and help create a newsletter that all the students look forward to.
We have had some successes and some failures, but I feel we have done much towards accomplishing this goal. We have tried to liven up the issue a little, and give the students more freedom to write what they want. We hope to continue improving, and both editors and students have great ideas for future issues.
On behalf of the editorial staff, I thank Mr. Dan for giving us this opportunity to be more creative. I’d also like to thank my editors that stuck with me and really helped to get this issue out. I hope we have and will continue to meet your expectations. Thank you.
─Patrick F.
Be the Change by Sofia C.
In the past month, there have been changes in the atmosphere at FMA. Change is often uncomfortable. It shatters complacency and causes one to deal with the issues at hand. Mr. Dan said that every time a student is expelled there is always an impact on the rest of the class, like opening a wound that must re-heal.
First, one student decided not to rejoin us when we returned from the holiday break. A few weeks later, while out in the freezing cold of our fifth expedition, two of the girls refused to continue and were kicked out. For most people, their departure was happy news. While these students were not inherently bad people, their routine insubordination and gossip added little to the group beyond drama and ignorance. We all looked forward to less stress and annoyance when we returned to campus. We wouldn’t have to deal with them any longer, and everything would be so much better.
However, on our return, I realized there would be no smooth transition. Its easy for us to be blind to our own unhappiness when we have a target to absorb the blame. These three students had been that target.
Many of the students thrived on the drama that circled around these three, enjoying the outlet it provided for their own insecurities and unhappiness. In their absence, the remaining students were forced to see their own faults and experience the discomfort that brought. Many had a hard time dealing with this reality, and quickly began looking for some other direction in which to focus their negative energy; much of the time the remaining girls became the target of their snide sarcastic remarks.
Surprisingly, this unpleasant treatment became the driving force that brought the girls together. It caused me to focus more on myself and my own goals. I decided I didn’t want to be a part of the negativity any longer, and chose instead to work towards accomplishing what I needed to do to move forward in my life. I started getting my own act together by finishing my homework, working with Miss Margaret to finish my college applications, and beginning a fitness program to get myself in better shape.
At the same time, all the girls decided to depend more on each other, providing strength and nourishing trust. In this way, by focusing on ourselves and being the change we would like to see in the school, we have the hope of creating a fruitful and productive environment for all of us.
First, one student decided not to rejoin us when we returned from the holiday break. A few weeks later, while out in the freezing cold of our fifth expedition, two of the girls refused to continue and were kicked out. For most people, their departure was happy news. While these students were not inherently bad people, their routine insubordination and gossip added little to the group beyond drama and ignorance. We all looked forward to less stress and annoyance when we returned to campus. We wouldn’t have to deal with them any longer, and everything would be so much better.
However, on our return, I realized there would be no smooth transition. Its easy for us to be blind to our own unhappiness when we have a target to absorb the blame. These three students had been that target.
Many of the students thrived on the drama that circled around these three, enjoying the outlet it provided for their own insecurities and unhappiness. In their absence, the remaining students were forced to see their own faults and experience the discomfort that brought. Many had a hard time dealing with this reality, and quickly began looking for some other direction in which to focus their negative energy; much of the time the remaining girls became the target of their snide sarcastic remarks.
Surprisingly, this unpleasant treatment became the driving force that brought the girls together. It caused me to focus more on myself and my own goals. I decided I didn’t want to be a part of the negativity any longer, and chose instead to work towards accomplishing what I needed to do to move forward in my life. I started getting my own act together by finishing my homework, working with Miss Margaret to finish my college applications, and beginning a fitness program to get myself in better shape.
At the same time, all the girls decided to depend more on each other, providing strength and nourishing trust. In this way, by focusing on ourselves and being the change we would like to see in the school, we have the hope of creating a fruitful and productive environment for all of us.
Teen Masquerade by Chasity G.
Every day I wake…not knowing what face I’ll take.
It’s a teen masquerade.
With my painted smile,
I try to hide my pain.
And to cover my fear,
I use an act of strength.
When others come near,
I turn and run away.
Because I’m afraid,
That once they see me,
They won’t stay.
It’s a teen masquerade.
Once I heard,
“Life is a screenplay
for those who act.”
Well, I’m here for that stage,
And I’m coming back.
Yet, sometimes I wonder,
What would happen to me,
If I dare take this mask off?
To that make-up,
That hides my face everyday,
I’m gonna say good-bye,
Good-bye to my teen masquerade.
It’s a teen masquerade.
With my painted smile,
I try to hide my pain.
And to cover my fear,
I use an act of strength.
When others come near,
I turn and run away.
Because I’m afraid,
That once they see me,
They won’t stay.
It’s a teen masquerade.
Once I heard,
“Life is a screenplay
for those who act.”
Well, I’m here for that stage,
And I’m coming back.
Yet, sometimes I wonder,
What would happen to me,
If I dare take this mask off?
To that make-up,
That hides my face everyday,
I’m gonna say good-bye,
Good-bye to my teen masquerade.
My Expedition by Brandon H.
My broken foot would make hiking tremendously difficult, so while all of my classmates were out hiking and camping, I had a 6-day expedition of my own back at F.M.A. I did all of the farm chores as well as 4 hours of regular work, and because of all of the free time, I was able to write, read, lift the barbell, and learn the guitar.
During the early morning, I was gaining knowledge on a possible career path of mine, architecture. I read multiple articles in the encyclopedia and The Fountainhead for hours upon hours. These 6 days may really help me in the future.
Because I was alone, I spent much of my time in deep thought. This constant introspection taught me a great deal about myself. I found out about my extreme dependency upon others. Panic flowed through my body during these times of intense loneliness late at night. There was a stabbing pain when I relived some very happy moments because, I am incapable for the moment, of seeing those who brought me such great joy.
I thought a lot about the past and future, and how I would approach things differently now. This time of tranquility allowed for much self-improvement, and I think the time alone was just what I needed.
During the early morning, I was gaining knowledge on a possible career path of mine, architecture. I read multiple articles in the encyclopedia and The Fountainhead for hours upon hours. These 6 days may really help me in the future.
Because I was alone, I spent much of my time in deep thought. This constant introspection taught me a great deal about myself. I found out about my extreme dependency upon others. Panic flowed through my body during these times of intense loneliness late at night. There was a stabbing pain when I relived some very happy moments because, I am incapable for the moment, of seeing those who brought me such great joy.
I thought a lot about the past and future, and how I would approach things differently now. This time of tranquility allowed for much self-improvement, and I think the time alone was just what I needed.
Moonlight Shadow by Jose D.
Seeing what we see
Is not what we see,
Until we can see
What is meant to be.
Alive in our hearts,
The fate of our lives,
Meant to be reached
Before death arrives.
Masks and lies,
Cause truth to die,
A horrible death,
No final breath.
Our woven destinies,
Take form in dreams,
Flowing and flowing,
As shining streams.
So as you gaze deeply,
Into the blinding meadow.
Follow your dreams
Into the moonlight shadow.
Is not what we see,
Until we can see
What is meant to be.
Alive in our hearts,
The fate of our lives,
Meant to be reached
Before death arrives.
Masks and lies,
Cause truth to die,
A horrible death,
No final breath.
Our woven destinies,
Take form in dreams,
Flowing and flowing,
As shining streams.
So as you gaze deeply,
Into the blinding meadow.
Follow your dreams
Into the moonlight shadow.
Holes in the Ground: Fiction by Pat S.
Crossing over the drawbridge into Gary. What used to be a river seeps and bubbles through what used to belong to the Culumet Indians. A blue sign on the bridge indicates that it’s the Culumet River. It looks like pavement in waning light. We bump over the rickety, rusty old thing into Gary. The bridge rises behind us to keep the sadness out.
Gary looks like a thousand cigarettes stuck into the ground, burning and burning, making the people sweat and tear at their necks. Smog gives everything two shadows.
I breathe in that Barbie Playhouse, that steel beam, that copper wiring. I feel that PVC pipe coat my lungs.
On greasy crumbling streets, we pass a sign welcoming us to Future City. When, exactly, will that city arrive? Puddles of oil. Puddles of Mud. Sometimes just holes.
People crowd into little bus stops with heat lamps. Sitting under the hum of fluorescent bulbs and picking at the gum under their seats, they wait for it to grow dark.
“Why do I live here?” they ask with their faces. “Why do they live here?” I ask with my face fogging up the window.
“It’s…a…perfectly…fine…place…to…live,” Dad says, his hands white on the steering wheel, trying not to breathe.
A red, white and blue sign stands out from the black: SUPPORT OUR TROOPS!
Everything is pale and dirty. Everything is Wal-Mart and Olive Garden. Every river is lined with concrete. Every lake holds Chicago’s trash.
Every mother passes under that sign and shakes. 19 year olds are blown into a thousand pieces. Soldiers are turned into boys.
Gary looks like a thousand cigarettes stuck into the ground, burning and burning, making the people sweat and tear at their necks. Smog gives everything two shadows.
I breathe in that Barbie Playhouse, that steel beam, that copper wiring. I feel that PVC pipe coat my lungs.
On greasy crumbling streets, we pass a sign welcoming us to Future City. When, exactly, will that city arrive? Puddles of oil. Puddles of Mud. Sometimes just holes.
People crowd into little bus stops with heat lamps. Sitting under the hum of fluorescent bulbs and picking at the gum under their seats, they wait for it to grow dark.
“Why do I live here?” they ask with their faces. “Why do they live here?” I ask with my face fogging up the window.
“It’s…a…perfectly…fine…place…to…live,” Dad says, his hands white on the steering wheel, trying not to breathe.
A red, white and blue sign stands out from the black: SUPPORT OUR TROOPS!
Everything is pale and dirty. Everything is Wal-Mart and Olive Garden. Every river is lined with concrete. Every lake holds Chicago’s trash.
Every mother passes under that sign and shakes. 19 year olds are blown into a thousand pieces. Soldiers are turned into boys.
Current Events: The Pig Dies by Rob M.
On Saturday morning, we took the pig George’s life away from him, and cut him up into little pieces. Mr. Kevin said to the class that if we wanted to witness and learn how to skin a pig, we could come down to the woodshed and observe the process.Mr. Mike harvested George with a .22 pistol. It took one shot to take him down. Then he cut his throat so all the blood would run out so it wouldn’t bleed as much when we skinned it. We skinned George in the woodshed, from his toes to his head. (He was hanging upside down.)
Most of the students watched as Mr. Mike and Mr. Kevin took apart every part of the pig. Some students got in there too and helped skin the pig with razor sharp knives. We took out all of the organs and nasty stuff. Aidan, Jeremy, Chasity, and I partook in eating the pig’s liver, because we saw this happen in a movie about Indians eating the liver when they killed a buffalo.
Finally, when the head was cut off, Jeremy and I skinned off all the skin and got 15 extra pounds of meat off of George’s head.
Film Review: The Boondock Saints by Noah E.
The Boondock Saints is the gripping story of two simple Irishmen with a thirst for justice and vengeance, and a hatred of all things evil. They begin to devise ingenious plans to perform hits on mob bosses, Mafiosos and even low-profile street scum. Their friend David Della Rocco uses his position in the Italian Mafia to gain information on mobsters such as times and locations that they would be vulnerable for hits.
The Boondock Saints was made in a style that makes the audience feel the maximum amount of suspense possible. The film has a Quentin Tarantino feel to it; it is not shown in chronological order, but rather in a flashback/flash-forward style. Only after seeing a crime scene crawling with detectives, coroners, and forensic teams, do you witness the firefight which preceded it. This film features the best acting I have ever seen and portrays the plot in the most believable fashion. It is the type of movie that sends tingles up and down your spine and the emotional impact lingers long afterward.
The Boondock Saints was made in a style that makes the audience feel the maximum amount of suspense possible. The film has a Quentin Tarantino feel to it; it is not shown in chronological order, but rather in a flashback/flash-forward style. Only after seeing a crime scene crawling with detectives, coroners, and forensic teams, do you witness the firefight which preceded it. This film features the best acting I have ever seen and portrays the plot in the most believable fashion. It is the type of movie that sends tingles up and down your spine and the emotional impact lingers long afterward.
Book Review: One Hundred Years of Solitude by Pat F.
One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez follows the Buenida family through several generations in a village known as Macondo. It starts with Colonel Aureliano Buenida recalling a fond childhood memory as he faces a firing squad. This may well be the most enticing beginning in literature, but it is most definitely the most enticing first sentence in literature. The whereabouts of Macondo is never made clear and the time period remains unknown, leading to some confusion as one reads the book but ultimately I came to accept this as part of the fantasy of the book.
Through a whirlwind of poetic writing, the reader experiences gypsies, magic, war, peace and prosperity. Although the excitement of the advancing story stumbles badly at one point, my imagination was fired by the fantasy elements, and I was deeply absorbed in the fate of the characters as they journeyed through horrors, some ending in tragedy. characters as they journey through horrors some ending in tragedy.
Through a whirlwind of poetic writing, the reader experiences gypsies, magic, war, peace and prosperity. Although the excitement of the advancing story stumbles badly at one point, my imagination was fired by the fantasy elements, and I was deeply absorbed in the fate of the characters as they journeyed through horrors, some ending in tragedy. characters as they journey through horrors some ending in tragedy.
Unfortunately the book seems to hit a wall in the middle when suddenly the story slows, and the characters become mostly uninteresting and annoying. I found myself asking “Why am I reading this?” and was tempted to put the book back on the shelf to attempt at a later date.
Hang in there reader. I’m glad I did. The last third of the book more than makes up for this. After slowly trudging along, unexpectedly I found myself captivated, emotionally re-invested in the characters, as the book picked up speed, and I was enticed back into the story until the very last sentence. All in all I gave this book four out of five stars. During the beginning and ending third I would’ve given it 5 out of 5 but during the middle I wanted to throw it across the room in disgust. In all seriousness though I strongly suggest that anyone who loves good writing, read this book, and force themselves through the middle for the reward at the end.
Hang in there reader. I’m glad I did. The last third of the book more than makes up for this. After slowly trudging along, unexpectedly I found myself captivated, emotionally re-invested in the characters, as the book picked up speed, and I was enticed back into the story until the very last sentence. All in all I gave this book four out of five stars. During the beginning and ending third I would’ve given it 5 out of 5 but during the middle I wanted to throw it across the room in disgust. In all seriousness though I strongly suggest that anyone who loves good writing, read this book, and force themselves through the middle for the reward at the end.
Aaron's Grand Costa Rican Adventure by Pat F.
Pat F.: Aaron just recently spent his break in Costa Rica, and while he was there he stayed with a foster family. Is that what it’s called?
Aaron D.: A host family
PF: A host family. And you worked on building homes for the poor right?
AD: I did.
PF: So why don’t you tell us a little about Costa Rica, what was your favorite thing about it?
AD: My favorite thing would have to be the nightclubs down there. They were free and full of good music and friendly people.
PF: Sounds like you really liked the culture huh?
AD: Oh it’s great.
PF: What about your host family, what were they like?
AD: Well, they were really nice. They made me food every morning, lunch and dinner. I just
couldn’t understand them. I couldn’t speak Spanish and they didn’t speak English.
PF: Was the language barrier hard to deal with?
AD: It got frustrating sometimes but most of us understood that it was frustrating so it went pretty good.
PF: What about the homes you built? What organization did you do that for?
AD: I went to a program called Eye-to-Eye. Building the house was a great experience. I would definitely lace up my boots and go back down there. The people were great; we had a little fiesta for Christmas down there on the building site. It was good, Pat.
PF: What was the hardest thing for you to do on the house building?
AD: Well I had to dig a hole. It was about five feet long and I’m gonna say six feet deep. Uh, and the shovels were broken.
PF: I heard you had to take a long bus ride to get there, is that right?
AD: Yeah the bus ride was about 45 minutes but it was great. There was a lot of scenery. Sometimes you had to stand, and that wasn’t so great but the rest was fantastic.
PF: So why don’t you tell us a little about the beaches down there, how was that?
AD: Well Pat, the chicks on the beach were excellent. Um, yeah they were just outstanding in their bikinis. They sold really cool drinks down there, like popsicle icesicle drinks. They were great; I had like 20 of those.
PF: Did you ever go to a Costa Rican market and buy some interesting items?
AD: I’m gonna tell you the truth Pat, I didn’t. When they start speaking Spanish really fast, it scared me a little bit. I went to the supermarket.
PF: All right what about this souvenir you brought back?
AD: It was actually a gift from the family that I was building the house with. They were there helping me, and they really appreciated it. It was really great. You know, approval is the key to life.
PF: No, I didn’t know that.
AD: (Laughing) Yeah neither did I Pat
PF: So why did you decide to go on this program?
AD: Well, Pat it was because…actually, I didn’t. I just wanted to go home.
PF: But it was a fun experience at least?
AD: Oh it was a great experience Pat. It was really great. I will remember it for the rest of my life.
PF: Would you say that it was life changing?
AD: (Laughing)I’m gonna say no.
PF: Thanks Aaron for telling us about Costa Rica.
AD: It was great talking with you Pat.
Aaron D.: A host family
PF: A host family. And you worked on building homes for the poor right?
AD: I did.
PF: So why don’t you tell us a little about Costa Rica, what was your favorite thing about it?
AD: My favorite thing would have to be the nightclubs down there. They were free and full of good music and friendly people.
PF: Sounds like you really liked the culture huh?
AD: Oh it’s great.
PF: What about your host family, what were they like?
AD: Well, they were really nice. They made me food every morning, lunch and dinner. I just
couldn’t understand them. I couldn’t speak Spanish and they didn’t speak English.
PF: Was the language barrier hard to deal with?
AD: It got frustrating sometimes but most of us understood that it was frustrating so it went pretty good.
PF: What about the homes you built? What organization did you do that for?
AD: I went to a program called Eye-to-Eye. Building the house was a great experience. I would definitely lace up my boots and go back down there. The people were great; we had a little fiesta for Christmas down there on the building site. It was good, Pat.
PF: What was the hardest thing for you to do on the house building?
AD: Well I had to dig a hole. It was about five feet long and I’m gonna say six feet deep. Uh, and the shovels were broken.
PF: I heard you had to take a long bus ride to get there, is that right?
AD: Yeah the bus ride was about 45 minutes but it was great. There was a lot of scenery. Sometimes you had to stand, and that wasn’t so great but the rest was fantastic.
PF: So why don’t you tell us a little about the beaches down there, how was that?
AD: Well Pat, the chicks on the beach were excellent. Um, yeah they were just outstanding in their bikinis. They sold really cool drinks down there, like popsicle icesicle drinks. They were great; I had like 20 of those.
PF: Did you ever go to a Costa Rican market and buy some interesting items?
AD: I’m gonna tell you the truth Pat, I didn’t. When they start speaking Spanish really fast, it scared me a little bit. I went to the supermarket.
PF: All right what about this souvenir you brought back?
AD: It was actually a gift from the family that I was building the house with. They were there helping me, and they really appreciated it. It was really great. You know, approval is the key to life.
PF: No, I didn’t know that.
AD: (Laughing) Yeah neither did I Pat
PF: So why did you decide to go on this program?
AD: Well, Pat it was because…actually, I didn’t. I just wanted to go home.
PF: But it was a fun experience at least?
AD: Oh it was a great experience Pat. It was really great. I will remember it for the rest of my life.
PF: Would you say that it was life changing?
AD: (Laughing)I’m gonna say no.
PF: Thanks Aaron for telling us about Costa Rica.
AD: It was great talking with you Pat.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
EXPEDITION NUMBER 6 by Noah E.
February 14, 2008
We have just returned from our 6th expedition here at FMA. At some times during this expedition it was trying, both physically and mentally. We took what Mother Nature threw at us, and overcame it.
Mother Nature gave us sunshine, wind, rain, and even snow, but we were grateful for it all.
DAY ONE:
Day One began with business as usual: class followed by a hearty breakfast, followed by morning work chores. We then set about preparing ourselves and out packs, before loading the bus which would take us to the trailhead at the Flatwood area. A six-minute bus ride saved us two miles of uphill hiking along Eastridge Road.
After unloading the bus, we began our hike along Flatwood Canyon, until we began our ascent up Academy Trail. It was a grueling and challenging hike, until reaching the big rock just below the Iron Mountain Trail. Upon seeing the rock, I knew I was almost to the top.
Upon reaching the Iron Mountain Trail, we turned to the West and began our hike until we reached the Birch Branch Bypass Trail, which we followed for a short downhill hike into camp.
Upon arrival in camp, we set about gathering wood, starting cooking fires, and settling in for the night. Tent time was 8 p.m. Phew! Day one is over!
DAY TWO
Day two began with my partner and I starting a fire and cooking breakfast. After eating we took down our tent, cleared our camp spot, hid our fire sites and joined the rest of the students at the rally point at 9 a.m. Mr. Mike took some of the students down the trail, and Mr. Dan took some of us up the trail, to do some trail maintenance for about a half an hour.
We then shouldered our packs and began a nice easy hike down and along Birch Branch to our next campsite. After arrival in camp, we had an hour and thirty minutes to gather wood, set up tents etc., before reconvening for another hour of trail improvements. Mr. Dan’s group cleared a large section of rhododendrons along the creek that made it a very treacherous corner to hike through.
After work, we returned to camp, cooked our meals, and readied ourselves for the night, which was clear, with stars shining brightly above.
DAY THREE
We awoke at 7:30 a.m., prepared our meals, cleared our campsites, and prepared for the day’s hike which we knew would be long and tiring. 
We started hiking at 9 a.m. and a short time later we arrived at Highway 133, which runs up the middle of Shady Valley.
After a short wait at Ivan Greer Road, Miss Margaret arrived with the news that Mr. Kevin would not be joining us. She also had a small surprise for each of us: SODA! 
At 10:03 a.m. we began our ascent up Rutter Creek to the Appalachian Trail. 
Upon reaching the AT at Abingdon Gap, we made camp on the Northwest side, 100 yards below the trail. Campsites were selected, and camp improvements began, followed by a short introduction to 
shelter building. Some students began building shelters before turning in for the night under clear skies with mild temperatures. 
DAY FOUR
We awoke at 7 a.m., and began cooking our breakfasts while making careful plans for our shelters. For the remainder of the day, we built our shelters and improved them, and then walked around the camp checking out other people’s shelters.
Almost a day off. 
Tent time was 7:30 p.m. Mother Natire gave us a bath, starting at around 1:30 a.m., followed by heavier showers at around 3:30 a.m.
DAY FIVE
Day five began with low clouds hanging over us, along with cold temperatures. Not ideal hiking weather. We began our hike along the A.T. towards Damascus through heavy fog, with occasional snow, sleet and wind.
We made camp at AT Saddle Camp after a three hour hike.
Mr. Mike set the pace a little faster than usual due to the inclement weather. Upon reaching camp, we immediately set up our tents and began gathering wood and starting fires. Within thirty minutes of our arrival, the weather 
turned truly nasty, with cold winds, freezing rain and snow, but we were ready for it. Mr. Dan checked to make sure everyone was O.K. and we settled in for the night, which was bitter cold with winds coming from the North bringing still colder weather, and little more snow. Tent time 
was supposed to be 8 p.m., but we pretty much turned in around 5.
DAY SIX
We were up at 7 a.m., and starting our morning cooking fires, knowing this was the last day of expedition. Mr. Mike said we had about a four and a half, to five mile hike ahead of us, at the end of which there would be a surprise.
At 11:30 a.m. we began our hike down to Damascus. It took about three hours to reach Damascus, where we hiked through town to meet Mr. Kevin who was waiting with the bus at Cowboys filling station. We took a short ride to Sundog Outfitters where Mr. Mike was waiting with cold sodas for all of us. What a treat after six days of nothing but yucky water and coffee. They tasted exceptional.
We then reboarded the bus for a 6 mile drive back to FMA, where we unpacked, hung stuff out to dry, and stepped into a warm shower. Mission accomplished!
We have just returned from our 6th expedition here at FMA. At some times during this expedition it was trying, both physically and mentally. We took what Mother Nature threw at us, and overcame it.
Mother Nature gave us sunshine, wind, rain, and even snow, but we were grateful for it all.
DAY ONE:
Day One began with business as usual: class followed by a hearty breakfast, followed by morning work chores. We then set about preparing ourselves and out packs, before loading the bus which would take us to the trailhead at the Flatwood area. A six-minute bus ride saved us two miles of uphill hiking along Eastridge Road.After unloading the bus, we began our hike along Flatwood Canyon, until we began our ascent up Academy Trail. It was a grueling and challenging hike, until reaching the big rock just below the Iron Mountain Trail. Upon seeing the rock, I knew I was almost to the top.
Upon reaching the Iron Mountain Trail, we turned to the West and began our hike until we reached the Birch Branch Bypass Trail, which we followed for a short downhill hike into camp.
Upon arrival in camp, we set about gathering wood, starting cooking fires, and settling in for the night. Tent time was 8 p.m. Phew! Day one is over!DAY TWO
Day two began with my partner and I starting a fire and cooking breakfast. After eating we took down our tent, cleared our camp spot, hid our fire sites and joined the rest of the students at the rally point at 9 a.m. Mr. Mike took some of the students down the trail, and Mr. Dan took some of us up the trail, to do some trail maintenance for about a half an hour.
We then shouldered our packs and began a nice easy hike down and along Birch Branch to our next campsite. After arrival in camp, we had an hour and thirty minutes to gather wood, set up tents etc., before reconvening for another hour of trail improvements. Mr. Dan’s group cleared a large section of rhododendrons along the creek that made it a very treacherous corner to hike through.
After work, we returned to camp, cooked our meals, and readied ourselves for the night, which was clear, with stars shining brightly above.DAY THREE
We awoke at 7:30 a.m., prepared our meals, cleared our campsites, and prepared for the day’s hike which we knew would be long and tiring. 
We started hiking at 9 a.m. and a short time later we arrived at Highway 133, which runs up the middle of Shady Valley.
After a short wait at Ivan Greer Road, Miss Margaret arrived with the news that Mr. Kevin would not be joining us. She also had a small surprise for each of us: SODA! 
At 10:03 a.m. we began our ascent up Rutter Creek to the Appalachian Trail. 
Upon reaching the AT at Abingdon Gap, we made camp on the Northwest side, 100 yards below the trail. Campsites were selected, and camp improvements began, followed by a short introduction to 
shelter building. Some students began building shelters before turning in for the night under clear skies with mild temperatures. 
DAY FOUR
We awoke at 7 a.m., and began cooking our breakfasts while making careful plans for our shelters. For the remainder of the day, we built our shelters and improved them, and then walked around the camp checking out other people’s shelters.
Almost a day off. 
Tent time was 7:30 p.m. Mother Natire gave us a bath, starting at around 1:30 a.m., followed by heavier showers at around 3:30 a.m.DAY FIVE
Day five began with low clouds hanging over us, along with cold temperatures. Not ideal hiking weather. We began our hike along the A.T. towards Damascus through heavy fog, with occasional snow, sleet and wind.We made camp at AT Saddle Camp after a three hour hike.
Mr. Mike set the pace a little faster than usual due to the inclement weather. Upon reaching camp, we immediately set up our tents and began gathering wood and starting fires. Within thirty minutes of our arrival, the weather 
turned truly nasty, with cold winds, freezing rain and snow, but we were ready for it. Mr. Dan checked to make sure everyone was O.K. and we settled in for the night, which was bitter cold with winds coming from the North bringing still colder weather, and little more snow. Tent time 
was supposed to be 8 p.m., but we pretty much turned in around 5.
DAY SIXWe were up at 7 a.m., and starting our morning cooking fires, knowing this was the last day of expedition. Mr. Mike said we had about a four and a half, to five mile hike ahead of us, at the end of which there would be a surprise.
At 11:30 a.m. we began our hike down to Damascus. It took about three hours to reach Damascus, where we hiked through town to meet Mr. Kevin who was waiting with the bus at Cowboys filling station. We took a short ride to Sundog Outfitters where Mr. Mike was waiting with cold sodas for all of us. What a treat after six days of nothing but yucky water and coffee. They tasted exceptional.
We then reboarded the bus for a 6 mile drive back to FMA, where we unpacked, hung stuff out to dry, and stepped into a warm shower. Mission accomplished!
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