All summer long I’ve been conquering my biggest fears and crossing off items on my “bucket list”. Apart from sky diving, nothing scares me more than bungy jumping. Let’s be honest, the concept of bungy jumping is freaking nuts. And freaking nuts I was to even consider jumping head first off of a 150ft bridge into a canyon with a rubber band tied around my ankles.
I would’ve never even dreamt of conquering this huge fear on a random whim, but my Dad dared me. He not only dared me, but taunted me for days shouting, “bun-gy, bun-gy, bun-gy!” He wouldn’t let up, and eventually my stubborn pride made me do it.
You must understand that my dad and I have a long and sorted history of one-upmanship.
This father vs daughter competition started early in life. When I was 5, he flagrantly beat me at board games. Monopoly was the worst, especially when he would buy all the lots and send me to jail just for fun. This unsportsmanlike game continued through out the “Tetris years.” I would spend every evening after school trying to beat my dad’s last score. When I finally did, I would go to bed. That’s when my Dad would sneak in and stay up until 3am beating my score.
On and on this stubborn competition went, until one day on a mini golf course I got so fuming mad at my Dad’s teasing, I threw my putter at a windmill. Not only did I lose, but I was banned from Putt ‘n Bounce for life.
So now you understand why I couldn’t back down from bungy jumping, especially when my Dad surprised me one afternoon, by taking me straight to the bungy jump at Nanaimo’s WildPlay.
Now, I figured that since my summer of extreme activities white water rafting with Hyak and zip lining in Whistler with Wildplay, I’ve bascially got my fears in check. How scary could a little bungy jump be?
I was peppy and filled with confidence as I strutted up the bungy bridge that stretched across a river canyon.
“This is easy peasy,” I thought to myself. “No sweat”. Then, I caught a glance of the girl who was in front of me, pale as a sheet, and uncontrollably weeping to be taken off the platform after standing up there for 45 mins.
“Ok, maybe a little scarier than I thought”.
My hands started to shake and clam up and I caught a severe case of Jello legs. The terror hit me when they bound my legs in cuffs and attached me to the elastic cord. There was no turning back. I hopped out onto the edge of the platform and experienced a sweeping rush of vertigo.
People were yelling, the guides were wishing me luck, and my Dad couldn’t stop laughing. I took a deep breath, but the feeling of self preservation was so great I could not budge an inch. My feet felt like they were cemented onto the platform and my stomach was up in my throat. I was going to have to overwrite my with my with my .
I took one deep breath and jumped off. I was angled more chest first than head first. My arms were flailing and I screamed like a possessed demon. The free-falling was insane, like nothing I’ve ever felt. As soon as I hit the water and whipped back up, I really felt like I was going to die, which oddly enough made me giggle and scream at the same time. I continued to bounce, spin and swing under the bridge until I literally ran out of screams.
I honestly can’t believe I did it. Neither can my Dad. For the first time in a long time, he has no comeback. I think I finally one-upped him.