|From NPS Grand Canyon website|
My dad had the same problem. I'm not sure it was as severe as mine. I remember distinctly our trip to
the Grand Canyon when I was a teenager. I believe dad had to wait in the car rather than watch my sister and me start walking down the crooked, rocky path that hair-pinned its way down the canyon. We didn't even go that far. I remember the sheer joy of that place - the blue sky over that mighty crack in the earth, a river far below snaking its way through the canyon. The path was treacherous - one mistake at the wrong place, and surely it would all be over. I don't remember being afraid; I just remember the beauty of it all and the exertion upon climbing back up.
|Johnstown's Incline Plane/Visit Johnstown photo|
escape me, but I believe that incident has stuck in the back of my head, waiting to come out when I had my own small children to protect.
|Photo from Wikimedia|
honeymoon in Israel, when I refused to ride up the cable car to see
|Jaco Transfers photo. Not me, but similar to the view I enjoyed|
the scene below. Incline planes and gondolas are fun! The really only horrible part of a zip line for me is waiting on top of the platform for my turn. In fact, a couple of years ago in Costa Rica, I got stuck in the middle of one of the longest, highest sections of a
I realize what some of my fear is, besides whatever primal fear was left from the experience with my dad. A crazy part of me actually wants to jump. Well, maybe not 'wants" to, but there is a sick curiosity of what it would feel like. We've all had those dreams where we're falling - and it feels pretty liberating, at least in the dream, and it's harmless, because we usually wake up before we land. I remember parasailing in Jamaica, the gentle currents guiding my wing far above the bay. I really felt like a bird and I want that. My head knows that if I jump I'll die, but something in my heart wants that soaring feeling.
Have I tried anything to cure my fear? No, not really. There's the part of me that's in every phobic, that my phobia is based on something real, and I'm the smart one for fearing it. Will I ever be like Jimmy Stewart in "Vertigo," forced to face my fear in the face of real danger? God I hope not. If I am, I will probably just.... jump.