I learned about quicksand in Alaska

I was on a trip with four other guys in Gates of the Arctic National Park as a part of a "the Y" camp, Widjiwagan. We were about halfway through a 40-day trek and were had been making good progress that day.

We had been walking through a flat river valley filled with sand and rocks, which made for great terrain compared to soggy tussocks. We had gone maybe 5 miles so far and the endless days meant that we could go as far as we wanted.

The stream we were following made a wide bend ahead around a grassy hill. We decided to take the obvious short-cut and go up and around the hill. We hiked up a small incline and found ourselves in front of a flat field of grass and dirt, which might have made a wonderful camping spot.

I walked ahead and with each step I found it to be less nice a place for a tent. A small pond at the base of the hill fed into the clay dirt field and made the ground wet and sloppy. I kept a brisk pace and was able to walk through it for a short time, but it became difficult as the clay grew deeper. I stopped to tell the others to turn around and then I began to sink.

I tried to lift one foot, but just pushed the other deeper. I tried to diffuse the weight, but I still sank, my backpack not helping me any. I turned and asked for help, the others watching my plight from firmer ground. Shawn came, but could not get too near without sinking himself. He said he could take my pack and I should dig myself out. This whole time the clay had rose up past my knees and was now around my thighs. I took the pack off and flung it to him as best I could and he dragged it away.

Luckily I seemed to have reached the deepest point, and stopped sinking, but I had to get myself out. I couldn't lift my leg or yank it out, I had to dig. I clawed clay away from me as quick as I could before more flooded in around me. I soon was able to pry one foot out and rest it, ballet-like, on top of the clay. I clawed the other out and rolled, crawled, and lurched back to dry land.

We had a brief water break, and a laugh, and then continued around the pond and up the hill, the clay around my legs drying and caking. I could feel it seep into my boots and socks with each step.

We made it over the hill and came back down to the stream where I was able to wash off my legs in the arctic water. How easy the earth can pull you in before you realize what happens. This wasn't exactly quicksand, but it was close enough. How strange that I came to the mountains, and sank.

No matter the imperfections inherent in the human condition:

There is no greater sin than to waste a sunrise.

The golden hue of the clouds accent every aspect of beauty possible in the simplicity of absence.

The greatest marvels of mankind really have absolutely no comparison to nature’s absolute null.

There's so much fucking beauty in this world.

Why do we have to be the exception?

Maybe it's a bit pathetic that I'm disillusioned enough to try to not be that. As if one person could really change anything.

Although...

It wouldn't be such a bad thing to have a few more pathetic dreamers in this world.

We were racing, in canoes, on the Wekiva river. Lilly pads on either side, walled by palm and pine trees with the occasional oak. The river was crowed with other canoers and kayakers, many of whom didn't know what they were doing; bottle-necking. It was my eldest sister and her boyfriend against my Twin and me. Traditionally, in two-person canoeing, both provide the power but the back does the steering. That was me, and my sister's boyfriend.

They were beating us by a canoe length, but hesitated and argued over how to proceed through a cluster-fuck of teens, giggling and working against each other's efforts until their canoe blocked the entire passage. That and a fallen tree. Without communicating, Twin and I both figured we could go under it, and as the steering partner, I shouted it; "Going Under!"

She was ahead of me, already pulling her paddle in and leaning back in appropriate limbo that I quickly followed. We sailed right beneath the tree, only to hear those teens start screaming, "it shit on me! That bird shit on me!" Our competitor's still trying to find a way through, and we paddled on in our canoe. We didn't even have to try winning after that, which was good, because we had a hard time not laughing.

- M.E.

Okay so back when I was a wee little kid, my fake family (not still there) and I went to Florida and rented a big boat and we set sail for a few days. On the first day I was there on that boat, we grilled out. it was a decent gathering of people and we had fun! However, someone forgot to drop anchor and we drifted kinda far. Randy checked the G.P.S. While he did so I heard a loud deep bellowing whale noise. All of the sudden, This huge whale just came out of the water and kinda hit our boat. made the whole damn thing spin around. I was sea sick and crying and scared. I believed I was going to perish! However I was fine. I saw the big old tail over the other side of the boat. Hated whales since.....