The Cliffs of Insanity
Last year when we went camping atTarawera, we were introduced to the tradition of floating down the river on tyre inner tubes ("..out for a pleasure cruise.. through eel-infested waters..") and walking to the waterhole and jumping off the eight-metre high cliffs into the waterhole. Last year, Hubby and R13 and D17 and I all jumped.
I know that *jumping off high places* is a rite of passage through childhood, but I have to admit that I think I'm over it: in fact last year was the last time I've done it. I really freaked myself out. I think it's because (I've lost so many pairs of glasses in water) I can't see and am jumping blind: I can't judge the distance from the top (holding my breath) to the bottom (splash). It's like taking a giant leap into space with your eyes closed, and frankly, I can feel blonde hairs turning grey just thinking about it.
I know what you're thinking: "My way's not very sportsmanlike.."
Hubby still gets the adrenaline rush.. he loves it, as do D17 and S9.
S9 is a very interesting creature: he's the family clown, to be sure, but he is a calculating kind of clown: he never goes first, and when he does go, he always puts a spin on the stunt:
I hold my breath, and try not to close my eyes...