Michael's Place

My favorite place in the whole world is Brecjkendridg, Colorado. The sweet pine-scented hote l,filled with the smell of polished furniture always makes me want to bend down and sniff. From the clear blue sky to the white-tipped mountains, the sights always make me feel like jumping with joy. The hotel looks like a mini golf castle. It even included the windmill and connecting tunnels. Colorado is the place to be.


I love strapping on my waxed, polished ski's, and sitting in the creaky, old chair lift. I love looking down at all the different people skiing. When teh chair lift is high in the air, it makes me wonder how much fun it would be to fall down on the white, fluffy snow. I would hit the ground, making a star implant on the ground with my shivering, wet body.


Looking through my large orange goggles, I can always tell what's in front of me. There are oak and pine trees about ten years old covered in multicolored beads, which anxious skiiers and snowboarders through on them from the chair lift. I would dogdge the trees and swerve out of the way with my three foot black curved poles, and form a forty-five degree angle with my skis. As the snow sprays at my face, I can feel the freezing warmth of being in Colorado.


On the mountain, I look around and see the colorful forest with beginner skiiers wearing the bright orange uniforms that the grumpy old police officers wear ski by me at about the speed of a snail going uphill. When reaching the hotel, I can see where I just skiied outside the windows as big as a movien theatre screen. When I leave Colorado, I always brign memories with me.