Two years ago yesterday, I survived The Great Plummet.
Which is to say, on August 20, 2009, I fell 30 ft to my death but didn't die.
Which is to say, I was hiking with my ex-fiancée Denise1 when I plunged 26 ft 8 in into a narrow chasm, but came out nearly unscathed.
Which is to say, I slipped off a mossy precipice about 100 ft upstream from Bingham Falls (pictured above) and into a gorge barely 5 ft wide, yet only suffered two minor scrapes and bruises. Nevertheless, my death (rather than my life) flashed before my eyes during my precipitous drop.
Which is to say, amidst my one and a half seconds of freefall I pictured myself dying in two and a half ways — cracking my head against the cavern wall opposite, breaking my neck as I landed, and shattering my legs and back to end up paralyzed.2
And that's when I wet myself.
Which is to say, I splashed down (much unlike a space shuttle) into water far deeper than I'd expected. I returned to the surface, but my poor, poor D took in too much water, and she drowned.
Which is to say, my Nikon D60 succumbed to the elements.3 I then swam 60 ft one-handed (my other hand heroically — and fruitlessly — trying to prolong the life of my camera) and climbed out of the gorge the only way possible: by hauling myself out, hand over hand, along the husk of a dead tree.
Which is to say, I climbed out of the gorge the only way possible: by hauling myself out, hand over hand, along the husk of a dead tree. After we celebrated my continued living at the nearby Ben & Jerry's factory, I knew I had to share the story of my amazing survival with the world.
Which is to say, one week later I started this blog.
And the rest is history.
1 She prefers I call her "my wife," but where's the fun in that?
2 No, I'm not trying to imply that losing the use of my legs is akin to dying. Yet, I would die a little inside, knowing I'd never again have the chance to run a marathon (never mind that I've never run more than 8 miles in one clip) or reign over the volleyball court as the "Lord O' Leaping" (never mind that I haven't played in over a year) or accidentally slip off a mossy precipice to my almost certain doom (never mind).
3 Or rather, it succumbed to one element. Then again, that one element is made up of two elements, so perhaps I was right right from the start.