Backpacking Memories

The water tasted of clean metal as AnaMae and I plunged into the freezing cold swimming hole by our new campsite. I blew a stream of small bubbles out of my mouth and headed downward. When I opened my eyes, the water stung bad and then calmed down. I drifted along the edge of the jumping rock gliding my hand over the smooth algae and pointed snails that had attached themselves to the side of the boulder. I dipped my head down and dived to grab a handful of gravel. The stones felt cool in my hand. I spread out my fingers and let the pebbles slip through my fingers so that they glided towards the bottom like a feather glides through air. I could feel the water pushing on my lungs so I sprinted up to the surface and gulped down the air I needed. Then, with a flip of my head I dove back down. The water felt so cool on my filthy body. I straightened myself so that my feet touched the bottom. I calmly walked out of the stream. The swim had felt good and I was now ready to put on some clean, soft, dry clothes. Then I would sit by the fire so the warm flames could try to lick my skin to warm me up, outside in. This had to be one of my happiest moments of the whole backpacking trip.