Narrative Autobiographical Essay

I slammed the car door shut as a cool breeze blew past me. It was 5:00 a.m., and the sun had just begun to peak above the mountains of Lake Tahoe. The gentle water from the lake lapped against the sandy beach as I walked, almost in a trance, toward the shimmering blue water.
“Can you come over and carry this board over to the beach?”, my dad said, pulling me back into reality.
“Sure,'' I responded as I grabbed the paddleboard and followed my mom and aunt as they walked toward the golden beach.
I set my board down on the sand and went back toward the car for my paddle, full of excitement. A few minutes later, we were almost ready to go. After a few pictures and a farewell from dad, my mom, aunt, and I set our boards down, ready to go. We walked out into the water, up to about my knees. It was freezing. I glanced up, to try to see the other side. It was a relatively smokey day, and it was impossible to see all the way across. My feet were beginning to go numb and with one last push off of the solid ground, I was off and away, along with my aunt and mom.

I have always been in awe of the beauty of Lake Tahoe. Its beautiful mountains, that always seemed out of reach, the deep blue water that I had splashed in countless amounts of times as a young child, and its beaches that stretched across the shoreline for miles. To a young kid, things often seem way bigger than they actually are. I would stand on the shore, looking across the lake that seemed to go on forever. I would be there for a while, my feet burning in the sand, and would plan out how I would cross it one day if it was even possible. Today was that day I would cross the lake I had always dreamed of.

A few months earlier, my mom and I set out to do a practice paddle to judge how difficult the full lake would be. We went the other way across, the shorter way. It was only 5 miles instead of 28 miles. That morning, as we pushed off toward the other side, everything seemed perfect. There was not a single ripple in the water beside the ones the paddles created. The sky was a soft baby blue, with not a single cloud in it. Everything seemed perfect. About half an hour later, the wind picked up. At first, it was only a small breeze. Nothing we couldn’t handle. After all, we had done much worse. Fifteen more minutes went by. The wind only grew stronger. Of the 8 miles, we had done two in the last hour.
“Maybe we should turn back,'' my mom said. “We could always try this another day”. I was not about to give up that soon. “Let's keep going. We have paddled in much worse conditions than this,” I told her with confidence.

More time passed by. The longer we stayed out, the stronger the winds got. We traveled a mile in the next hour, fighting a fierce battle against the wind. After paddling against the wind for over 3 hours, we could finally see the beach we were headed to in the distance. Unfortunately, the winds still kept getting stronger and stronger. The smooth glassy water that we had started out in had turned into huge, choppy waves that would drench you with water every time. We were cold, wet, and defeated. Soon, we started moving backward against the wind, despite our efforts to continue onward. A coast guard boat pulled up next to us.

“You guys need to get into shore! N yelled one of the workers over the wind. “These winds are over 30 miles per hour! They will blow you away! Do you need a ride back!?” My mom looked extremely relieved. She had been waiting for a reason to go. She was about to say yes when I cut her off.
“No thanks! Where fine. I think we will make it!”, I told them. We were so close. I could not give in yet.

My mom looked disappointed. I could tell she wanted the ride. The coast guard worker looked at us unsurely but eventually drove off. It took us over two hours to do that last mile. As we finally pulled up to the dock we had been looking at for the past four hours, we were exhausted. We paddled past the windsurfers and boogie boarders who had finally gotten to play in ocean-sized waves on a lake. My mom and I both collapsed on the shore, very unsure about how we were going to survive the whole 28 miles. My heart sank. Maybe it really was impossible.

Months later, my paddle cut through the glassy water, hoping for better conditions in our attempt to cross the whole lake. It was still very early and not a single boat was out yet. The white smoke had completely swallowed us, making it impossible to see the other side of the beach we came from. We took occasional breaks, snacking on the bag of jelly beans we brought with us. Before we knew it, we here already halfway done with our trip. The water was perfectly still, deep, and blue. Very blue. Most people only experience Lake Tahoe from the shore. It is blue and beautiful, but it is nothing like standing directly over the middle. The smoke had thinned out a bit, mostly because the fog had gone. We could finally see the other end. After hours and hours of paddling, we were almost there, “There it is!”, I told my aunt and mom. “That’s the end!”

They both gave a little cheer and we picked up the pace, eager to complete the challenge. We paddled hard and fast, knuckles and fingers bleeding and feet numb from standing on them. Then my mom had pulled out her map.

“So we are about right here...”, she said, pointing to the map. “We just past this resort, Homewood. Dollar Point is right there. Our beach that we are aiming for is over there” She pointed to what we had thought was the end and where we were supposed to go. We were all quiet for some time. Looking at the map, and then the lake, then back to the map. Back and forth. After we had finally accepted the truth, we kept moving, worn out, disappointed, and tired. We passed the point, wishing that that was the end. The last three miles were the hardest, longest, but the most rewarding. The beach we were headed toward started as a tiny speck of yellow sand but gradually grew bigger and bigger. We could make out some of the boats near the shore, and then, at last, some of the people. My three best friends, brothers, and cousins were all there in the water cheering as we came in. I looked up to find the mountains I had thought to be impossible to reach. The ones I thought were too far away to ever paddle toward. But I had arrived, had completed the challenge I thought I would never happen. Every mountain can be reached. Every dream can be achieved. an't cope with a pile of academic writings? Read a sample here and have more ideas on how to do your papers. All the templates are free.