My special day was when grade 3, 4, 5 and 6 went to a very, very, very tall mountain called Rousseau in Vermont. We bundled into various cars and drove to the United States border. I was with Michael, Thomas, Elliot and his father. Elliot’s rule in the car was that when we reached the border, we had to be completely silent.
As we embarked on our climb I noticed: varying trees, slippery leaves on the ground, dark clouds hovering above us. There were also very long rocks along the path. It turned out that we weren’t walking on grass; instead, we were walking on humungous eroded granite rocks. Along the way, our guide stopped to have us examine a tree that a moose had shaved with his antlers. He went on the mention that he had once heard of a moose dying because he was covered with hundreds of ticks. Boy, I felt bad for that moose!
It was a lot colder up at the top of the mountain by the cliffs than at the bottom. My feet were freezing and got soaking wet. They felt like damp sponges. I had to change my socks three times along the way. Nevertheless, it was still a great class adventure!