Damn it, Althouse. I was just smiling fondly at the photos of you and Meade, loveinly wedded, then chuckling at the absurd Bill Clinton/Kim Jong Il photo, and glossing over the trash island, then you have to go throw a sad story at me and ruin it all.
It's an awful thing to have a kid growing up. You can't keep them at home wrapped in cotton wool, but you have to know that when you let go of them some stupid random thing can happen and take them away from you forever. I feel so sorry for his family.
I controlled my apprehension about the kids and cliffs pretty well. They got to throw rocks off thousand-foot drops, roll boulders, leap off 60-foot crags into lakes. Controlled it, except for a walk on top of an Alaskan glacier near the base of Mt. Fairweather. Meandering streams of meltwater wandered across the surface of the ice, angled parabolically, and then plunged into openings shaped like morning glories, openings with a gradually steepening wet-ice surface that dropped down through all the shades of ultramarine, to blue, to blackness that cloaked the grinding boulders where the substrate met the base of the ice, hundreds of feet below the surface. You would slip, skid, flail, plunge into a narrowing ice chute, and lodge somewhere down in the throat, arms pinned, calling for help that could never get down to you, until the falling icewater and hypothermia made an end of you. The kids had to see the glacier (and were lucky to see a strange, bluish "glacier bear" on it) but I could not stand to let them get too close to these slick portals.
"You would slip, skid, flail, plunge into a narrowing ice chute, and lodge somewhere down in the throat, arms pinned, calling for help that could never get down to you, until the falling icewater and hypothermia made an end of you."
And you could see all of that in your mind's eye, couldn't you, as you choked out "Stay away from the edge!" and your kids rolled their eyes.
Congratulations, another slow agonizing life avoided.
I would hope he snapped a really good shot on the way down and it was a digital, because it's frustrating to wait for that damn developing when you know you really nailed it.
The exact same thing almost happened to me on Yosemite's Half Dome. I climbed up there, stood near the edge, put my SLR camera up to my face--and immediately lost all perspective and then my balance. Luckily, my brother was there to yank me back.Profoundly scary. That poor kid. Hopefully he lost consciousness during the fall.
"It is understood Andrew had finished dinner and gone to take pictures of the sunset at a beauty spot called Collado Jermoso." ___________________ Julie Payday loans Today
Support the Althouse blog by doing your Amazon shopping going in through the Althouse Amazon link.
Amazon
I am a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for me to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites.
Support this blog with PayPal
Make a 1-time donation or set up a monthly donation of any amount you choose:
14 comments:
Damn it, Althouse. I was just smiling fondly at the photos of you and Meade, loveinly wedded, then chuckling at the absurd Bill Clinton/Kim Jong Il photo, and glossing over the trash island, then you have to go throw a sad story at me and ruin it all.
That's a long fricken way to fall. Poor kid.
Never walk along the edge of a cliff while looking through a camera viewfinder. That is the lesson I would guess we can draw from this sadness.
I think you summed it up, dbp.
It's an awful thing to have a kid growing up. You can't keep them at home wrapped in cotton wool, but you have to know that when you let go of them some stupid random thing can happen and take them away from you forever. I feel so sorry for his family.
I controlled my apprehension about the kids and cliffs pretty well. They got to throw rocks off thousand-foot drops, roll boulders, leap off 60-foot crags into lakes. Controlled it, except for a walk on top of an Alaskan glacier near the base of Mt. Fairweather. Meandering streams of meltwater wandered across the surface of the ice, angled parabolically, and then plunged into openings shaped like morning glories, openings with a gradually steepening wet-ice surface that dropped down through all the shades of ultramarine, to blue, to blackness that cloaked the grinding boulders where the substrate met the base of the ice, hundreds of feet below the surface. You would slip, skid, flail, plunge into a narrowing ice chute, and lodge somewhere down in the throat, arms pinned, calling for help that could never get down to you, until the falling icewater and hypothermia made an end of you. The kids had to see the glacier (and were lucky to see a strange, bluish "glacier bear" on it) but I could not stand to let them get too close to these slick portals.
"You would slip, skid, flail, plunge into a narrowing ice chute, and lodge somewhere down in the throat, arms pinned, calling for help that could never get down to you, until the falling icewater and hypothermia made an end of you."
And you could see all of that in your mind's eye, couldn't you, as you choked out "Stay away from the edge!" and your kids rolled their eyes.
Congratulations, another slow agonizing life avoided.
I would hope he snapped a really good shot on the way down and it was a digital, because it's frustrating to wait for that damn developing when you know you really nailed it.
Poor kid. What a way to go.
That's a long fricken way to fall.
Not that the distance really mattered. If it had been, say, 500 feet, the outcome would've been the same.
Peter
Damn.
Well, stay the hell away from the edge in the mountains of Colorado.
Damn.
The exact same thing almost happened to me on Yosemite's Half Dome. I climbed up there, stood near the edge, put my SLR camera up to my face--and immediately lost all perspective and then my balance. Luckily, my brother was there to yank me back.Profoundly scary. That poor kid. Hopefully he lost consciousness during the fall.
That's a long fricken way to fall.
Not that the distance really mattered. If it had been, say, 500 feet, the outcome would've been the same.
As we paratroopers used to say, "It's not the fall that kills you, it's the sudden stop at the end."
Also, "You can fall for miles and not get hurt. It's the last quarter inch that kills you."
"It is understood Andrew had finished dinner and gone to take pictures of the sunset at a beauty spot called Collado Jermoso."
___________________
Julie
Payday loans Today
Post a Comment