Heights…Why Do I Scare Myself?

There were far better things to do that morning last September en route to Oregon from work in New Mexico, than to climb over the railing of the O’Callaghan-Tillman Bridge, far, far – nearly 900 spectacular feet – above the Colorado River. I generally get woozy when I’ve ascended beyond the 6th rung of a ladder. As a matter of fact, Shara, or one of my phobia-free friends, usually get tapped into action when Christmas rolls around and lights need to be strung on our second story eaves. Embarrassingly, I have on occasion required ‘talking down’ from a point mid-ladder where, entangled in a cat’s-cradle of lighting, I had frozen in a spasm of vertigo.

Truly I, of all people, had better, wiser things to do that day. I could have – should have – been pulling into a casino in Boulder City for a cup of so-so coffee and a couple of passes through the breakfast buffet. But no, I chose to watch the sunrise from the apex of that marvelous, terrifying concrete arch. Nothing explains the lapse of reason that prompted this short-lived foolishness, except the seductive lure in bagging a video trophy, an enticement made all too accessible by the damned user-friendly video cameras built into our smart-phones. Anything for the Blog…for the Tube…for the 15 minutes.

I shiver when I look at this clip…then I get the urge for a short stack.

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