In truth I had trouble picking one of my childhood memories for this assignment because I had so many queer and unusual stories, and then I remembered that I am still a child, and have been one for some time. So the story that I will tell you happened not that long ago. So here goes .
One dark, stormy night (cliché, I know but that's how it was), my friends and I decided to go to Adell Durbin around two thirty at night. Adell Durbin is a small patch of woodland near my house that is filled with cliffs, waterfalls, ravines, gullies, ponds, creeks, boulders, and of coarse many trees. We were all there; Strong Sad, Dave, Koubs, Tommy Boy, Austin, Frenchie, all of whom were good friends of mine, and I. What we were all doing there is still shady to me, but we were.
We were all heading along the trail that we had blazed over the past ten years. It was pitch black out and the path was just as wide as your waist, but it mattered not, we could all walk through with our eyes closed. The fellowship of my friends and I were walking down this path single file, nothing to see but the dark shape of a figure in front of you and the lit cigarette of the person behind you, nothing to feel but the sides of the path and the back of the fellow in front of you. We traveled through Crooked crick (known for winding through the woods), the fat tree (known for being portly), and the rock chair and ledge benches, this is where we stopped to catch our breath and light another cig. This was a nice place to stop, for as the name suggested it was on a ledge with about a forty to fifty yard drop to the bottom. At the top there were rocks that were shaped like benches and a chair. It was never spoken but always known that Strong Sad got to sit in the chair. We sat there and smoked our Camels for around an hour, after that we continued along the path.
We waded through creeks and ponds, ran through the thicket, and climbed the faces of the rocks (this proved difficult in the dark with a cigarette in your hand).