Rise To The Challange

RISE TO THE CHALLANGE

The cage moves quickly upward. Suspended from a giant crane, it rocks in a gentle
breeze. At 40 feet the people below look small and insignificant. I try to stare straight ahead at
the horizon but my eyes keep drawing toward the ground. Damn that fear of height! I want to
drop to all fours so I won't topple out.

Eighty feet now and I look hard to identify those below. "Don't think about losing your
balance and falling out. Don't think" --- The cage stops at 140 feet swaying and twisting.

*****

This all started five days ago. My son burst into the house filled with enthusiasm.

"Dad, guess what I did!"

"Wrote a thank you note to your grandmother for your birthday present?"

"Get real. I just bungee jumped out at Pearl Lake."

I can't let him get the upper hand here. I’m still the king. I’ll squash him with a poiguant
repartee.

"So?"

"Bungee jumped. Falling through the air with only a rubber band on my feet.
BUNGEEEE!"

"Yeah! Big deal."

"You going to do it Dad?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Hey Mom, Dad's going to bungee jump."

"Over my dead body. Oh Lord help us."

Here, I have to put this in perspective. Fifty pounds over weight using the chart for big
boned. Taking medicine for high blood pressure. Vigorous exercise is sitting on my lawn tractor
once a week. And approaching 60.

From here on it became a war of nerves. The wife treated me like I had slipped over the
edge. My fitful sleep for four nights included visions of failure. Such as my bulk hitting the end of
the rope and my feet ripping off and I continue to the bottom of Pearl Lake. Or, what are the
physiological consequences of a grossly overweight person with high blood pressure hanging
upside down for the three or four minutes it would take for recovery? Or, what would the old ticker
do when beginning a 140 foot descent? Or, if we had mechanical failure and a broken bungee
cord left me in a 140 foot dive into a twelve foot deep lake?

To soon, Saturday morning came and an entourage gathered to accompany me to the
lake. Both sons and a daughter-in-law plus their assorted friends were interested in seeing the
old man make history. The wife came, not to enjoy, but to claim the body.

It was, of course, pay in advance. Four pages of liability disclaimers had to be signed.
So much for my family coming out of this wealthy. My weight was taken and called out in grams or
kilograms or what ever, which saved me some embarrassment, but I did notice the girl writing it
down raise her eye brow.

The trip to the jump area was several hundred yards through the sand. I reached the
cage at the end of the giant crane, and faced the Jump Master, and two well tanned assistants.
Sitting in a chair I was fitted with ankle cuffs made of belt webbing. Then supported by both arms
I hopped into the cage which was open on one side.

I looked into the faces of the crowd. Happy people, laughing and pointing. Only my wife
assumed the proper attitude and although I couldn't hear her, I lip read, "--- help us."

A black bungee cord was chosen from the pile to correspond to my weight. One end was
attached under the cage, the other to my ankle cuffs. A wave of the arm and the crane roared
into action.

Now it's just the Jump Master and me.

"You don't have to jump, you know. But, the trip back down and facing your friends is
tough to make."

"I'm OK."

"When it's time to go, walk out to the edge and be sure to jump clear of the cage."

"Good advice."

This is the time for that last look at my feet. I will miss them.

"Hang in there," I tell my heart.

I take baby steps to the edge. I grab the rail so I don't leave prematurely. Is it my
imagination or are their finger grooves pressed into that steel. Did I make them? I look straight
down. Yellow rope and floats mark out a square to aim for. My God, it looks like a postage stamp
from up here.

It begins. The countdown from the loud speaker, the crowd below, and the Jump Master,
"THREE --- TWO --- ONE --- BUNGEEEEE" I do my impression of a man 50 pounds overweight
doing a swan dive.

Abject terror fills my mind. I fall and fall and fall. I'm rigid with fear. My eyes glaze and I
can only look straight ahead - where ever that is. I feel a gentle tug at my ankles.

Good-by feet.

But no, I decelerate and come to a stop with just my hands in the water, then rebound fifty
feet in the air. Tossed upright momentarily I then again drop downward. The rebounding plays
itself out and I'm left hanging like a giant marlin, head down, being lifted aboard.

One last panic. Will all the blood vessels in the brain explode? "Get me right side up."
The crane moves slowly to deposit me unceremoniously on the sand.

The assistants remove my ankle bonds and ask, "How'd it go?"

"No sweat."

"Are you going to jump again?"
"Not today. Maybe in about 10 years."

God, I hope my son didn't hear that.

The stoic wife holds my hand on the way back to the car.

"What did you think about on the way down?"

"I just wanted to get it over and get back to you."

The gentle squeeze says this time I've said the right thing.

Story ID:	784
Written by:	Dick Dunlap (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Family Memories
Location:	South Beloit Illinois USA
Year:	1997