My camp recount

I could feel the fear as I approached the ropes. It’s height already scaring me, I slowly approached. “Ready.” I said as I took hold of the cold metal bars connected to the side of the swinging wooden pole. It moved like a centipede, which was it’s nickname.  

I was sure to hold on for dear life, scared of the consequences if I fell. It seemed as if this climb was the world, I needed to concentrate on it, or suffer the fall. As I made it to the middle, I felt my grip loosen.

The world flashed around me as I held on, only my arms were holding me up as my legs dangled uselessly in the air, I didn’t want to look down, but was more forced to as to make sure that my legs could safely make it back on. I heaved them back onto the metal, and continued my way up.

I looked past the wood and metal, and noticed the trees. Stretching far as the eye could see. Then I noticed how high I was. The fear crept back up on me, I could feel my legs shaking as I forced them to move onwards.

I could glimpse the top within my reach, as I grabbed for it, I felt the disgusting sloppy mess on my shoes. I only realized how lucky I was that it happened, as again I found myself with my legs dangling in the air, and only my tight grip holding onto the crossbar at the top was keeping me from a terrifying plunge to the ground below.

As I reached the top, I jumped off. As I slowly closed my eyes I felt myself slowly being lowered safely down.  I had reached the end. I let out a sigh of relief as it was all finally over. I had beaten the centipede.