Sea Level - a good place for me

I’m a strange mix of daredevil and scaredy-cat. In my last post I failed to mention my most spectacular fall, which was the result of the daredevil in me. Where I grew up there were these wonderful things on the sides of some of the ski mountains called alpine slides. Up you went on the ski lift, and down you flew with a sled on a fiberglass slide. Right up my alley! I loved going down the entire mountain without touching the brake once. There were two slides side by side and Hubby (when he was still Boyfriend) and I enjoyed racing down together. Well, it wasn’t ever much of a race – I was way faster. Halfway down the mountain, there was a sudden drop, with a warning sign strung overhead saying, “Apply Brakes!” or something to that effect. Without touching the brake, I would careen over the drop, fly through the air, and land on the slide below. Thrilling! One time, though, Hubby was plodding along and as he slowed for the drop, he was stunned to see his girl lying face down on the track below, and the sled 20 feet away in the shrubs. Let me tell you that the thrill was well worth it, and I escaped with only a goose-shaped scar on my knee, and some minor damage to my dignity.

On the other hand, I thought I would die of fright driving – yes, I said driving – up Mount Washington last year. Now to my credit, here’s the sign posted at the base:

This is one sign I should have heeded. But who knew! After all, we’d be in a car. It began so innocently. Mossy rocks, soft evergreens, gentle slopes.

Soon, though, the road steepened. It narrowed. And before long, I was clinging to anything I could grab hold of – the door, the ceiling, the seatbelt, and alternately shrieking and laughing. Okay, more shrieking than laughing. But just look at the picture below. See the left bottom corner? That is the edge of the road.

The worst moments were when another car, or, even worse a big van, came down the mountain toward us. The only way to cope was to squeeze my eyes shut ‘til we had passed; thank heavens Mike didn’t have the same inclination! The road often disappeared ahead of us, giving the illusion that we would drive right off the edge of the earth.

The summit was spectacular.

Well, not at first.

But eventually.

I decided on the spot to make my permanent residence there. It would neatly solve the problem of getting back down the mountain.

Unless I blew off, that is.

Eventually I had to face the music. But this time I got smart. Climbed into the backseat (on the pretext of allowing Little Bubba a better view – gotta preserve some dignity). Buried my face in a book. Hummed “Oh Where Is My Hairbrush.” And here I am today, alive to tell about it!

Now, don’t get me wrong – I would recommend this adventure to anyone (well, anyone who has nerves of steel). If life weren’t full of zany adventure, blogs would be so boring.

1 comment:

Modemom said...

Well, I guess you know you didn't get any of that daring spirit from me. I remember one summer when we went to Gunstock to do the Alpine slide thing as a family and I kept the brakes on the whole way down!! Mom