So the other day I was sitting around my tiny apartment, had just eaten a bowl of rice and chicken, and I was kind of bored, so I decided to head off into the hills for a bit of adventure. I had one destination in mind, but when I got there, it looked boring so I just kept driving. An hour and a half later, I found myself in a little mountain with almost no gas (keep in mind I still needed to get back and there was no gas station between there and home), but my heart was filled with scenic wonder.
I pulled my car to the side of the road, and walked across a fallen tree to the other side of a river and was confronted with a giant mountain. Once I reached the other side, I encountered a ram, big fat horns and all, so I decided to try to pet him. As I approached, the ram got scared (I didn’t have my shirt on at that point so he was probably scared of my biceps) and he ran off up a seemingly sheer cliff. I decided to pursue after the ram without much thought. Before I knew it I was about 50 feet up this cliff with no way down. (I was somewhat regretting my decision at that point), but I decided to keep going up in hopes that the mountain might flatten out a bit.
As I climbed and climbed in hopes that I would not slip and die (I was looking at quite the fall below me) I eventually encountered an area that was covered in beautiful grass. Then I found remenants of a rock slide that looked as though it had happened earlier that year. At this point I could have gone down, but adventure was on my mind.
As I proceeded up the mountain further and further, I eventually was climbing sections of 15 to 20 foot dirt rock (another terrible idea), but somehow managed to get past that and make it too the tippy top of the mountain. It was quite the feeling. As I looked down into the valley a couple thousand feet below, my breath was taken away. I had lost the ram long ago (I named him Henry) but I’m glad he had lured me up the mountain.
Now the problem that was before me was how to get back down the mountain. I made my way to the next ridge, I found remnants of another rock slide, and decided to make my way down it. I felt like Bear Grylls doing sweet skiing like moves in my boots as the rocks crumbled below me. After a few tumbles and a lot of sliding and running, I made it to the base. Now the problem was that the mountain ran into a nice private neighborhood. I proceeded to creep through their back yards until I made it to the main road.
Then I made my way back to the car and drove home (On an empty tank). When I reached the gas station, put 16 1/2 gallons into my 16 gallon tank.
The adventure as a whole was a series of terrible that almost left me either dead or stranded on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere, or stuck in the mountains with no reception or gas in my car, but overall, the adventure was one of the better days I’ve had in a long long time, so in this circumstance, 1000 bad decisions added up to 1 good one.