James M. Stange

Professor T. Tasseff

English 301

April 2, 1998

The Plunge

Life is repetitive. One goes through the same experiences day after day. One wakes up, goes to the same job, and comes home. One might go out with his same friends to places that are all alike, or one might stay home, and engage in the usual activities. When a person's life becomes monotonous, it becomes dull and unrewarding. Some people try to change their lives with drugs, because they think that the emptiness they feel can be abated with chemicals. Foreign substances cannot come close to producing the pleasure that the body’s own natural chemicals can provide. Life takes on new meaning after one's instincts convince him that he has cheated death.

Few things produce the amount of adrenaline and endorphins that bungee jumping can. The most horrifying thing I will ever hear is the instructor giving what I perceived to be my death sentence. "All right now. Are you ready? Okay. You jump when I count down to one. Got it?" I knew that if I did not jump on the count of one the first time, it would be impossible to do it a second time. "Five." My stomach clenches. "Four." My legs turn into gelatin. "Three." My throat is unbearably dry. "Two." I can hear nothing but the sound of my beating heart. Somewhere in the distance, I hear what I think is the number one. My body betrays me by forsaking the solid metal structure. The surface rushes toward me faster than can be imagined, in detail that is flooding my senses so quickly my mind cannot comprehend the danger my nervous system insists that I am in. Suddenly I slow, stop, and rebound. I will have this memory for a lifetime.

White water rafting can be as exciting as bungee jumping, depending on the run one chooses. There are rafting trips for people of all skill levels. Commercial rapids are rated on degree of difficulty, five being the most treacherous. Some rivers have small rapids and boast beautiful scenery. It is recommended to start with Class III or IV rapids, and work up to Class V, building experience along the way. Through my father’s misplaced confidence, my first white water rafting experience began on an advanced run. My hesitation, however, quickly abated after my adrenaline started pumping. The thrill of conquering nature, the anticipation of plummeting down a Class V rapid, and the knowledge that if someone falls out of the raft, he could get pulled into an undercut rock and drown, all added to the thrill of anticipated danger. It cast a feeling of despair over our group when our cameraman came back with the news. "I'm sorry I didn't film your second run, but I had to try to help that guy. He got too close to the rock. They can't retrieve the body until they shut the water off." After I returned home, I learned he had lived in Livonia, Michigan with his wife and two daughters. It is not a good idea to raft without a licensed company.

After an entire semester of preparation, bookwork, and training in the pool, I had finally earned half of my scuba certification. The second half consisted of an open water certification which had my driving for hours to a remote lake, there to don my rented scuba equipment in my first real world situation. Those were two of the most arduous days of my life, but I made it. I put my skills to the test three weeks later in the Florida Keys. My first time out, I was so nervous I felt dizzy and had pin and needles running up and down my arms and in my face, I got seasick and threw up, and I used up all my air in only thirty minutes through breathing and buoyancy problems. My second run was slightly easier, but that day almost brought me down. On the second day of the dive, I felt like an expert. Without the fear of the unknown to worry about, and after a more intelligent breakfast than the Sausage McMuffin and orange juice I’d had the day before, my stomach was fine. With my new-found confidence, I was capable of conserving my air and, because I was able to concentrate on more than just avoiding collisions with the wildlife, the wonderment of into what I was actually immersed began to sink in. On my first expedition alone, I was fortunate enough to bear witness to an eight-foot electric eel from a distance of only three feet. Later on, I witnessed two three-foot barracudas fighting for their territory. I had never in all my life put so much effort into a "leisure" activity—the research, the endless hours of physical exertion, the anxiety—but it was all worth it, for the simple fact that I did it.

Looking over the edge of the bungee tower, seeing the ground 180 feet below, knowing that I would jump, that will most likely remain the single most terrifying moment in my life. After the jump, I knew that I had conquered one of man's greatest fear: the fear of free fall. I can now draw strength from that knowledge. After my white water experience, I could tell my friends, "It was really hard, but I did it!" After scuba diving, I knew I could accomplish anything if I worked hard enough at it. Someone without a sense of adventure might wonder why people do these "crazy" things. Pity should be felt for those docile people. They do not know what it feels like to be truly alive. They must take the plunge. After completing these incredibly exhilarating events, I can draw strength from the knowledge that, when challenges emerge in my life, they will not be nearly as difficult to confront as they would have been otherwise. The benefits far outweigh the drawbacks (excluding death). I feel a sense of accomplishment, pride, and self-worth that would otherwise be unattainable. And I will always have something to talk about at parties.