The Plunge

when you're looking up a big ol' rock above a pretty little calm patch of water, it seems perfectly reasonable to jump off it. can't be too bad, especially when your friend flies off it like it's nothin'.

i don't think i'm afraid of heights, though i am usually only in them attached to a harness or in a plane. however, it's unnerving to be looking down into water that is far, far away and that you know will take too long to hit after you leap for it. the perspective at the top of the rock is definitely different than at the bottom.

such were my realizations when standing on the edge of reason, willing my legs to stop shaking so i didn't lose all choice and simply fall of the blasted rock.

i turned to my friend, "Erico, I am going to die."
he said, "You will not die. But give me your earrings."

well i finally jumped. rach jumped first, and she came up, so i figured it must not be too bad. check this awesome picture.


it wasn't so bad.

after a while, we decided it was so easy that we might as well do it again, together.

it was just as bad as the first time. worse, maybe, because i realized my fear had not lessened and therefore i was right back where i started.

climbing.


climbing.


deliberating.


neither of us had the leisure of freaking out, since if we didn't jump together both efforts would be in vain. it is, after all, all about the picture.









Victory!

much to my chagrin, my watch was lost in the plunge. fortunately, my bathing suit was not.