Awhile back my friend Mindi posted something on her blog that still has me thinking.
What Would You Do For a Thrill was about facing fears in ways that are fun, and ways that are not so fun!
Sadly, or maybe this is a good thing, but I believe I am getting wimpier the older I get. Take
roller coasters for example. I used to love them but now I approach them with some trepidation. (The Steel Eel at Sea World, San Antonio did me in. I don't know if the roller coasters are getting more intense, or if it is me turning into a pansy?)
I've never thought of myself as a dare-devil. I think I'm more of a wimp, but after giving it more thought, I realized there are a couple of risky things I have done in recent years. Adrenaline-pumping things, at least. The first one that came to mind was when Dan, our Australian friend Lisa, and I
climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge. We had to book this excursion prior to leaving the States to head Down Under. Luckily we booked it as one of the first things we did upon arriving in Sydney, because the thought of it had my stomach in knots and I wasn't sure I'd be able to go through with it. The morning arrived. To say I had butterflies in my stomach would be an understatement. I was terrified, but I put on a brave front. Our first task to prepare for the climb was to take an alcohol breath test. They weren't kidding here - one of the participants failed the test and was not permitted to climb as a result of some drinking the night before! Next we changed into a "bridgesuit" and piled on the safety gear, including a communication headset. The colors of the suit were meant to blend in to the bridge so as not to distract drivers, and all of our accessories (hat, sunglasses, etc) had to be strapped on to us in case they were dropped. We wore safety harnesses which were attached to static lines, and were given the opportunity to practice on a simulator before heading out to the real deal.
Turns out, this was one of the most amazing things I have ever done. Is part of that due to the fact that I faced my fear? Probably. Once we got going it was really easy to focus on the beautiful scenery around us. The stairs were on a wide walkway. It wasn't a matter of seeing a huge drop below you like I had anticipated. You could only look out towards the horizon. Bernie, our tour guide, also helped ease my anxiety. He talked to us through our headsets, explaining things and joking around, keeping my mind off of the dizzying thought of falling to my death. Well, except at one point, when he was telling us how far above the water we were. He started with the meters, then moved to feet, and then to seconds. Seven seconds. I counted to myself and suddenly had a not-so-comforting picture in my head. Overall though, I'd highly recommend the bridgeclimb experience and would love to do it again someday.
Today while I was working the art show for Dan, I reflected on another risky adventure - camping with grizzlies in Alaska. This was the summer of our first wedding anniversary. Dan had been picked in a lottery drawing for permits to visit and camp in
Alaska's McNeil River Sanctuary, and I was the lucky one who got to accompany him! This trip was FULL of scary things, but I had no idea of what I was getting in to prior to leaving so I didn't know enough to be scared.
Scary thing #1 - the plane ride in. Like many places in Alaska, the only way to get there is by air. In a small, small plane that takes off and lands in water, and flies past a volcano. (Mt. Augustine erupted not long after our visit.) I don't know what scared me most about the plane, the precariousness of it or my history of motion-sickness.
Upon arrival, we had to wade through the water to get to the shore, and then haul all of our gear up to the campsites. Dan had been there before and immediately went to stake out a good spot for us and our tent. He chose the one farthest away from the cook shed and cabin where the rangers stayed. Good choice, right? Again, I didn't know enough to insist we take the spot CLOSEST to the ranger cabin. While Dan and I and our new friend Ray were looking out toward a bear in the distance
THIS bear was sneaking in behind us and standing IN OUR CAMPSITE in the spot where we were about to PITCH OUR TENT. The ranger chased her off, said she was a young bear and hadn't quite learned about the boundaries of our camp area. Invisible boundaries, mind you. No fences here. I was starting to worry.
That night I did not sleep. We snuggled into our sleeping bags in our tent and it never got dark. The bigger issue for me than the lack of lights out were the growling noises coming from down river where the bigger bears were fighting over rights to the best fishing spots. I spent the night on pins and needles with an air horn in my hand ready to sound it for back-up should a rogue bear ignore the "boundaries" again and wander into camp.
The next few days were spent in groups of ten, walking and wading down to the "river of bears" to observe and photograph them in a natural setting.
The salmon were plentiful and the bears were fat and happy, not too interested in us, even though we sat just yards away from them.
Again, an unforgettable experience that I will never regret and will always remember fondly. I'm not sure I ever stopped to really consider how dangerous it was. They were grizzly bears, after all. Huge, wild animals. (Sorry mom!)
Yet there remain adventures out there that I think I would really enjoy if I could just pluck up enough courage to try them. Skydiving, for example. Or parasailing. I just don't think I could go through with it, especially now that I am a mom.
To echo Mindi,
"What are you willing to do for a thrill?"
