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| Feet first when jumping from a height. |
West Virginia wasn’t the only state that the Lees crew jumped off cliffs into a swirling river. On another camping trip, there was no guided river run adventure. I had no raft to hurry and catch up to, no lunch to miss with the group of fellow rafters, and no bus to find in order to ride back to our van with the family.
I had only my paralyzing fears of falling and rocks hiding in dark waters.
We had planned an exciting camping trip hiking and climbing up switchbacks in the Adirondack Mountains in upstate New York, beautiful mountains with rugged terrain and stiff terra firma. Our hiking boots were stowed in the camper. I had no visions of screaming and flying off craggy outcroppings of mountains into rushing water.
Until my teenaged son went fishing one morning in the Ausable, a tannin-colored river.
It was relatively close to our campsite. This was a catch and release section of the river. At breakfast he shared some interesting news.
“Hey, Mom,” he began. “There’s this neat place you can jump into the Ausable from.” His chocolate brown eyes fairly danced with excitement.
“How do you know,” his sisters asked in unison.
“Wait!” I tried to get back to the jump word.
“Is it close by?” His father asked.
“The kid I was fishing with told me you can park right after the bridge on Route 9 and follow the path.”
“Is it safe?” I finally got a word in.
“Mom,” my son looked into my frightened eyes. “Everyone who lives around here does it.”
“That doesn’t necessarily make it safe,” I tried to explain.
“They’re teenagers now,” my husband reminded me as we drove to the parking place.
“And I’d like to give them an opportunity to attend college.” Sometimes I think I’m the only sane person in this family.
As we walked down the path, I heard screams, laughter, and rushing water. We came upon a craggy precipice where people were indeed jumping off into the deep brown waters of the Ausable River.
I shook so much; I needed to sit down before I fell off the cliff. The top of the cliff was 30 feet above the water, but I noticed people jumping from narrow ledges below that height. This jump off point was a short distance downstream from waterfalls on the opposite bank of the river. The bridge we drove across to get to the parking area was on the upper side of the falls where huge boulders pinched the thundering Ausable into a narrow channel.
Watching others jump off cliffs still doesn’t make it easy for a mother to allow her children to jump. I watched the people jump for a while as my family pestered me. The people were jumping away from the ledge to hit the water about 10 feet from the river bank. The lower level jumpers looked up to the precipice and waved their hand, “I’m jumping,” and the top person backed away from the ledge.
“Let Dad go first,” I finally said, “on the lower ledge.”
My husband climbed down the side of the cliff to the lower level and leapt. He came up cheering, and the children scurried down to the lower level to jump—the first time. They all quickly moved up to the 30 foot precipice.
Only once did I venture up there, with the insane, to that dizzying height. Staring into the rushing waters of the Ausable, I tried to convince myself that I was only temporarilyinsane, and that as soon as I took the plunge, I would swim over to the big boulder and continue the recitation of my rosary.
You never dive into dark waters. Even after you check out the riverbed. Everyone jumping that day went in feet first. It’s also a good idea for ladies to wear t-shirts over their bathing suits. Take note that hitting water from the height of 20 or 30 feet repeatedly bruises the body at the point of impact. Our feet were a bit tender on the drive home.
We all survived the big plunge. But then the children wanted to come back the next day after hiking and the next. Luckily we headed for home on the fourth day. I didn’t think I could have convinced myself one more day that I was only temporarilyinsane. Ahh…the thrills of camping with the family.
My grandsons would have jumped in, but I'm not a good swimmer and afraid of heights…I wish I weren't then maybe I would jump in. I love your camping trips. Did you ever think of making a book from these stories. You should!!!
Thank you so much, Marie. Yes, I do hope to make a book of camping adventures. We certainly have plenty to choose from. By the way, I'm wary of heights, too. That's why I only jumped once from the 30 foot height. I did jump a few times from the middle height.
Thanks so much for visiting my Camping with Kids blog. Please stop by again.
Wow! That sounds like such a rush. I agree with Marie Gilbert. You should make your stories into a book.
Hi, Michelle. A rush? Definitely! Although I thought I'd have a heart attack. God willing, I'll have a book of my family's camping adventures. And maybe someone would be interested in publishing it.
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Wow, you're brave! I can't swim and don't like water; I wouldn't have been anywhere close. Cool experience!
Hello and welcome, Loretta! Thank you for visiting my Camping with Kids blog. I don't know that I was brave, exactly, a little crazy maybe. Thanks for your comment. It means a lot. Please stop by again.
It's always a thin dividing line in letting youngsters have fun and not letting them get into dangerous situations. You certainly have guts Victoria Marie, I don't think I would jump 30 ft into a dark river.
Bill
http://www.walksintameside.co.uk
This is true, Bill. When we were in Vermont, we found the locals jumping from a two-lane bridge into a swift moving river. We did NOT allow the children to do this activity no matter how many people we watched do it. I didn't feel they could fight the current to get over to the rocky river bank and climb back up to the roadway. Thanks so much, Bill, for talking with me through Camping with Kids. It is greatly appreciated.