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"Barn Owl" on the Old Trail

This is a memory of a hike I once took part in while at summer camp. I did not have a good time that day. On the upside, I got a cool nickname.

The campers left the site at around noon, starting down the path with enthusiasm. They were promised an easy hike and a beautiful view at the top of the mountain.

Heavy rains from the past few days made the ground a gravel slurry. Several pairs of boots squelched as the mud sucked at their soles. The path continued.

The campers stepped carefully over a flooded stream. The creek babbled as they stumbled over the rocks. Sunlight trickled through branches, stabbing eyes while dancing on the water. The path continued.

Clouds of gnats followed the campers like fog. Sweat-drenched shirts clung to skin. The path continued.

Rock and mud turned to packed dirt. Roots stretched onto the path, fibrous fingers intertwined, tripping feet. The campers trudged onward. The path continued.

Up and up they went. The trail grew steeper and log stairs were put in place. Their thighs burned. The path continued.

Finally, the campers had reached the top. They were promised an easy hike. It was not. They were promised a beautiful view overlooking the valley. Trees covered the blue sky overhead. There was no ledge to look over. There was nothing.

The campers sat down on the narrow path. One girl mumbled something. The others covered their ears.

A piercing shriek cut through the air. Again. Then wracking sobs. The "barn owl" cried her exhaustion. Yet the day went on. They still had to go back down. ---

This writing was the second to last draft I did for a writing assignment for my English class. The idea was to focus on setting, hopefully that came through.