Matt Fitzwater-Stevens
Oops.
When it came time to descend the old cinder cone, I discovered that the way I came up--which I'd basically bushwacked--was too steep to come back down. (You ever notice that it's easier for a human being to ascend than descend?) So, I sought out the actual trail. Not too long after I started down, I nearly skidded off a cliff that was several hundred feet above the beach. The entire path consisted of treacherous gravel, which acted like ball-bearings underfoot. I stood up and almost killed myself again.
That's when I realized that to be safe, I had to lower my center of gravity. Walking upright simply wasn't going to work. In other words, I was going to have to slide down that mountain on my bottom. I knew that I looked monumentally silly, but at age 29 I'd reached the point where I didn't let such things override common sense. I got to the bottom, alive, whole and with only a couple of small holes in my swimsuit.
Oops.
When it came time to descend the old cinder cone, I discovered that the way I came up--which I'd basically bushwacked--was too steep to come back down. (You ever notice that it's easier for a human being to ascend than descend?) So, I sought out the actual trail. Not too long after I started down, I nearly skidded off a cliff that was several hundred feet above the beach. The entire path consisted of treacherous gravel, which acted like ball-bearings underfoot. I stood up and almost killed myself again.
That's when I realized that to be safe, I had to lower my center of gravity. Walking upright simply wasn't going to work. In other words, I was going to have to slide down that mountain on my bottom. I knew that I looked monumentally silly, but at age 29 I'd reached the point where I didn't let such things override common sense. I got to the bottom, alive, whole and with only a couple of small holes in my swimsuit.