Adrenalin Junkie, Death Wish or Living Life to the Absolute Fullest

Many times I’ve been asked to explain why someone died. Not how, not what happened, those are always asked first, but why. Why did the loved one put themselves in that position to make the mistake or accept Mother Nature to their death? It is not an easy question to deal with, let alone answer. I doubt I have ever done a good job, or even an adequate job. The best I can do is describe some of the forces, or emotions that drive those of us who enjoy the outdoors.

I had not ridden my bike in 18 days because of a Grand Canyon River Trip I rowed for O.A.R.S. I hopped on my bike tonight and went out for an hour. My normal route is on the local bike path that rises 800 feet in the middle then down 800 and back up 250 to a road for awhile. About a mile later I turn into a subdivision and hop back on the bike path to return home.

The first half up to the top is drudgery. I put Jimmy Buffett on my MP3 player and gradually crank out the miles working up a sweat and some muscles. The drop down after the climb is on five switch backs and three tight turns till the path starts back up. I went screaming into a switchback tonight braking way too late, turning the bike as tight and as low as I could go, worried about my wheels and anything I could not see. A momentary, microsecond of emotion flushed through my body. Not really fear, just that feeling that comes when the adrenalin is surging. And I smiled. Not a grimace in fear or panic but a smile. I love that feeling of coming out of a near disaster in control, or to an extent some control, and living through it.

I once sat around a table with some famous mountaineers, all who had fallen over 100′ while climbing some as much as 2500′. I asked them what they were thinking as they fell. Generally the response fell into three categories: (1) Man this is going to hurt; (2) how the heck am I going to get out of this mess; and, (3) boy are my friends going to give me grief over this. None of the climbers mentioned fear, panic or the idea of dying in their conversations. It was just not part of the psychic. They all loved the sport, they all were still climbing after the near death experience and they are smiled as they talked about their falls. They were all still climbing and guiding.

Later on my bike ride as I was crossing from a bike lane across two lanes of traffic to a turn lane I had my right leg hugging my bike and front chain ring. Consequently I felt the road grime and dirt rubbing on my leg. I was hugging the bike hard because I barely had control. I did it because I was in traffic, being buffeted by the wind and crossing potholes. Again, not fear, not necessarily a surge of panic, but real concerns, Cadillac Escalade are big! but again on the edge and loving it. The rest of the ride was fun. I was alive and I knew it.

When I work for O.A.R.S. I row a gear boat. Garbage, kitchen stuff, anything needed etc and no customers. I like gear boats. I don’t have to entertain; I can think about things and enjoy the day. I enjoy showing the canyon to people, watching their face as they see new things and experience the rush. I recently helped a man climb up behind the Elves Chasim waterfall and jump out. It just required a little coaching and support and he talked about how great the experience was after the trip. I love that. I love the Grand Canyon, but more I love the way I can entertain and interact with people.

But more importantly I am past 50 and doing the job of a 20 year old kid. I am working as hard as I can and asleep before I hit horizontal some nights. I get up and put vitamin I (ibuprofen) in my mouth before I say good morning and spend ten minutes trying to get some body parts to work. I compete at a very basic level with myself.

I also can also run the rapids any way I want. I can drop in holes and push the limits. I see the beauty, I see the smiles, but inside I am pushing it. I can see how big I can go, how much I can lift, how many miles I can hike, how far I can go, how much water I can have hit the boat. I get a rush. I stand up and ride the rapids on the deck of the cooler or boat. I spin through rapids, I love to show off. But I love to push it, to see if I still got it and can give it back. I smile as the water drips off and the boat teeters on the edge and I push it over and through. I love it.

I don’t know why I love that rush. I don’t know why my days are better after I have it. I went out on the rid tonight with a sore knee and hands from the trip and I came back with a soaring soul. The ride was fun, the rush was wonderful. It is not a fix, it is not a need. It is just something that I enjoy.