Jump!          

It was many years ago on the very day that I got my drivers’ license, back in the day when a gallon of gas was 50 cents and the Watergate Scandal was the biggest political bombshell to hit the nation in modern times, that I roared out of town in my cool dad’s very cool 1968 360 Go Pac Javelin and headed for my family’s cabin in the mountains. It was summertime and I was looking forward to doing all of the things I normally did when I was on the mountain which included fishing, canoeing, swimming, and horseback riding. But that trip would prove to be quite different from the other times that I had spent there, not because of the fact that I now had a much desired drivers’ license, which allowed me considerably more freedom to go wherever I wanted, but because of a momentous event which very nearly cost me my life.

 

 

The area where I spent many happy summers was and still is the location of a tremendous amount of natural beauty. There are canyons and caves and waterfalls everywhere. Not far from our cabin is one waterfall that a conquistador supposedly ‘discovered’ while looking for the legendary "Fountain of Youth". Often, I would go there with friends and family and we would climb down the side of the canyon to the pool and swim out under the cascade to feel the water tumble over our bodies in cool torrents. Sometimes it was risky if the water was flowing too copiously from the ledge but the thrill was always worth the risk.

 

 

Just before going to the mountain, I had watched the movie, “Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid”. Not only did it star two of the coolest actors of Hollywood at that time, but the story was, for me personally, one that reflected a sort of adventurous lifestyle that I could relate to, one that I had been fortunate enough to experience in spades while growing up during those halcyon summers that I spent on the mountain exploring meadows and forests learning about nature. In one of the scenes of the movie, the two famous outlaws escape being caught by a posse by jumping off of a mountain cliff into a whitewater river. I was so impressed by that scene that I resolved to do something similar in order to experience the thrill of jumping from such a dangerous height. The waterfall under which I had enjoyed swimming numerous times offered the challenge I sought.


It was a beautiful hot summer day when I arrived at the waterfall
with two of my brothers. As we were walking toward the fall, I told them that I had planned to jump from it. They must have thought that I would not actually jump from a height of more than a hundred feet, or surely they would have immediately stopped dead in their tracks and tried to convince me that it was not a good idea. But since they must have assumed that I wasn’t crazy enough to do that, they didn’t protest but rather continued to walk excitedly to the trail leading down the side of the canyon to the base of the cascade for a refreshing swim while I stood above the canyon pool considering the jump. As I stood on the ledge patiently waiting for them to swim out to the cascade, I watched the billowy clouds lazily drifting across the azure blue sky. I looked down at the dark emerald green pool and was mesmerized by the reflections of the canyon wall on its surface. A soft breeze stirred the surface of the pool and shimmered with sparkling reflections of sunlight. The sound of the churning waterfall reverberated and encouraged me.

 

After my brothers had swum out to the base of the fall, I stepped closer to the edge next to and just above the waterfall and yelled down to them to check to make sure that it was deep enough and to see if there were any submersible objects such as tree limbs. Evidently I was more concerned about those things than the impact of my body slamming against the water’s surface. Even then I suppose they thought that I wasn’t foolhardy enough to do it but they went through the motions anyway and yelled back that it was safe to jump and then without hesitation, as if on cue, that is exactly what I did.

 

As I fell feet first at approximately hundred miles an hour, I flailed my arms wildly and, no doubt, I appeared as someone who imagined that he could fly. I had most certainly crossed the Rubicon. In that moment I realized that what I had done was a very brave thing, indeed, if not a foolish thing. When I hit the water, even though it was at a slight angle,  I felt as if I had been whacked across the back with a two by four. I plunged through the water in an arc and every bit of air had been expelled from my lungs. Then I came to a halt in a cloud of bubbles. For a brief moment I was dazed and had no idea in which direction I should swim. Then I saw the bubbles move in a certain direction and quickly I followed after them. It seemed like an eternity as I swam to the surface and was very nearly gripped with panic. When I finally broke through the surface of the water, I threw my body toward the sky like a breaching whale and inhaled so forcefully that one of my brothers later jokingly described the momentous event (as that is surely what it was), as one in which it appeared as if the trees might be uprooted by the extreme force of air being drawn into my chest. As I settled upon the surface, I began to cough violently as water sprayed from my lungs. It’s a miracle that I survived anyway, but I would have likely drowned as I had not one iota of energy left to swim to shore without assistance. One of my brothers had brought along an inflated inner tube and I wrapped my arms around it and in fits and starts I maneuvered toward the shoreline. When I reached the shore, I collapsed on a bed of gravel and although the sharp edged rocks made it uncomfortable to rest, at least I reckoned that I was none the worse for wear, or so it seemed. A few minutes later, I got up and somehow mustered the strength to pull myself out of the canyon.

Fortunately I made it to the car and we sped to the nearest hospital in the valley where the only available doctor, who just so happened to be on call, was also on the links and would not be available for a while. I could hardly hold my body up but I calmly waited in the emergency room until several minutes had passed when I couldn’t wait any longer. So we left the hospital. When we arrived back at the cabin, I went straight to the bunk room and lay in bed for a couple of days to recover.

                                 

Some months later when I was back on the mountain I stopped by to say hello to an elderly farming couple who often let me fish in their pond. I was very surprised when the old man announced to me that I was a “living legend” and that people on the mountain were still talking about my "amazing death defying leap". He further stated that I was lucky to have survived such a jump without any apparent injury. Then he mentioned that for as long as he could remember, only two other people had jumped from that specific spot above the waterfall. One of the jumpers died and the other person was paralyzed. I knew that jumping off of the waterfall was risky but it never occurred to me that it would make me a celebrity of sorts. In hindsight, had I known about the fate of the two other individuals, would I still have done what I did? At the least, I think it would have given me pause to consider when such an act is brave or if it is something else, stupidity perhaps.

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