The+Quarries+By+Alex+Donovan

Alex Donovan Composition G Mr. Bouton 04-17-09

The Quarries

“We should go to the Quarries!”

During the fall of my junior year, just as the leaves were changing, these six words were all that three of my friends and I needed to hear during one of our usual hangouts in Concord. The night before had been made up of singing and dancing to 90’s boy band singles, searching through magazines, and picking through Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and Butterfingers. The morning after, we all woke up around nine o’clock to kick start the day, knowing that Andrea and I had a soccer game later on that we would have to meet at the school around one in order to catch the bus over. It was such a beautiful day, though; we wanted to take advantage of it. Emily was the first to mention apple picking, an autumn trademark that my friends and I usually get around to doing at least once during the colorful season. Being only a few minutes from a nearby orchard, it seemed like the perfect time to do it. We quickly ate bowls of cereal, an expedient diversion from the usual chocolate chip pancakes we have taken the time to make countless times before, and got dressed.

We were in the car when Katherine’s voice from the back seat was heard. She captured our attention with her excitement as she talked about how fun it would be to head to the quarries after apple picking. Maybe we just didn’t want summer to end, but we suddenly thought of the quarries as the perfect segue to begin a memorable autumn season. The short remainder of the car ride had everyone on edge; it wasn’t an every day occurrence to go jump off of a cliff, especially not for me. Eventually, I took a left onto the dirt driveway of the orchard, driving up toward a parking lot that consisted of other sedans and two yellow school buses. We jumped out of the car and headed to the big red barn passing kindergarteners with their parent chaperones. While waiting for our own bags to collect McIntosh apples and Red Cortlands from the surrounding trees, we lined up behind a few of them. Walking up and down the rows of trees, Emily, Andrea, and Katherine filled their bags to the top with giant, red apples while I just picked them from the stem and chowed down on them then and there. It took us no more than twenty minutes to enjoy our time in the sunny orchards. When we were finished picking, Katherine brought us over to the rope swing, something she had enjoyed swinging on since she was little. At the time, plenty of little kids were lined up. Our turn to feel like the carefree children that surrounded us did come eventually as we each had our turn on the rope swing that hung from a giant, old oak tree. It seemed unbelievable that within the next hour, we’d be going from swinging a mere four feet off of the ground to jumping from a fifty-foot cliff. Andrea had her last swing around before we ran back to my car, Katherine serving as our guidance back to the main road and onward.

Five minutes passed before Katherine directed me to take a left and park in the grassy patch by the side of the road. In front of us was a trail cut off by a barricade of locks, chains, and a metal sign that we simply ignored. Others had been here before us; some of the local Concord boys and a few people we knew from school, so the barricade served as no warning. I turned off the ignition and the four of us hopped out, shedding many of the layers we had put on this morning. Locking the car behind us, we continued over the chain and down the path, three of us without a clue to where we were headed. Some trees displayed their ‘No Trespassing” signs, and though it was clear that people weren’t wanted around this area, we continued, my only justification being that plenty of people had done this before me. We came up over a small hill to finally see what we had been waiting for: gray rock climbed upward from all sides of the open area it surrounded. Katherine led the way as we first climbed the jagged, piled rocks across from our final destination. As we reached the top, it overlooked an area I had never witnessed before. Across from us was a hidden cliff that, in its rightful place, had never existed on the side of a mountain. Below was a pond, dark but inviting for all of those people willing to take the leap. We took our time and climbed back down the pile of rocks to trek around to the other side.

As we reached the top of the fifty-foot drop, Katherine was already taking off her layers, preparing to be the first daredevil to venture off of the ledge, as always. Andrea and I took our time, removing articles one by one, gazing over the edge into the murky water. Emily wasn’t so convinced that she would take the plunge, and as she contemplated, Andrea and I observed something in the water. At first glance, you’d think they were abnormally fat, round fish. Then, at second glance, it became more apparent that they were actually giant tadpoles that soon climbed their way to being the greatest fear of this adventure, not the jump itself. As we weighed our options, a white blur passed the three of us as we watched Katherine soar off the edge after her running start, falling within two seconds to then hit the water and go under. She popped back up at the surface soon after the fall, gasping for air in the cool water. Fifty feet above her, we watched as she swam back toward us in order to climb up the jagged rock wall rather than swim across the water to the easier exit. When she reached the top, Andrea had already stepped onto the ledge we decided to jump from, inhaling and exhaling more rapidly. It took a little less than ten minutes for her to decide that she was actually going to jump, and without warning her feet left the ledge and a high-pitched scream echoed between the rocks. After hitting the water, she searched for air but was more focused on getting to the other side by the stepping-stone in order to escape the surrounding mutant tadpoles. She reached the mossy rocks and stood, shivering, waiting for me to take my turn.

I made my way down to the same ledge Andrea had jumped from moments earlier. I stood there, thinking about whether or not it would hurt when I hit the water, or if I would let out a scream like Andrea had. “3, 2…” Katherine started, but I stopped her, promising I would jump but on my own terms. So five minutes later, I began: “3, 2, 1…” and I was flying. I can’t remember if a scream left my vocal chords or if I flailed my arms during the drop, but as I hit the water, it engulfed me under its surface. I swam back to the top and kicked into gear my freestyle in order to meet Andrea on the other side. I turned on to my back to see Emily taking her time to walk over to the ledge as well, only she seemed more hesitant than Andrea and I had. This hesitance must have taken its toll as she went to jump off of the Quarries, myself watching as I willingly floated in the water midway between the cliff and the rock, promising to wait there in order to meet her after the fall. Her feet seemed to have left the edge as she went to jump, but somehow, made them back to the dirt and rock surface again. My heart stopped as the realization that her feet may not have made it back to the ledge hit me. She refused to jump after that and though we told her it would be okay and I promised to swim to her after she fell, we didn’t force her to take the leap; our small group didn’t work like that. It was time for us to leave.

We grabbed together our dry clothes, scurrying to put them on still soaking wet. As we ran back over the trail, passing the ‘No Trespassing’ signs and fall leaves again; it hit me. I jumped off a fifty foot rock; something I’m sure the police wouldn’t have looked highly upon if they had found us and something I’m sure if my mom had known in advance would have stopped me from doing. It was definitely an event I had not pictured in my mind the night before as the Backstreet Boys blasted through the speakers in Katherine’s room. Instead, I left behind the 90’s pop music and headed out to experience the riskiest event in my life up till now with three of my closest friends. Sure, there were waves of second thoughts, but nothing great enough to stop the thrill of the free fall. And I loved it! Skydiving and bungee jumping had better watch out.