Friday, April 26, 2013


So here's a tidbit of information, I'm afraid of heights. Here's another wee tidbit; when you walk up the Brooklyn Bridge pedestrian walkway (at the time) there are plywood walls which block the view until you are up close to the support towers. There is also something under the walkway so you can't see down. 

Until 4/5th of the way up. 

Then you can suddenly see the insane height to which you have nonchalantly walked without fully comprehending just how high into the stratosphere this freaking walkway actually ascends. The water so far below, you can't fully grasp what it is you are seeing for a moment. After that moment, your knees go weak, your head spins and you grasp on to the plywood walls hoping you don't pass out. 

You bravely continue though, because the walls end just up there, and you've come from the other side of the nation, a little phobia isn't going to stop you from this photo op. 

Then the plywood walls end and you are blasted by gale hurricane force winds causing you to actually stumble a few steps before planting your feet and bracing against the monster trying to lift you and throw you over the side, to.. Oh. My. God... the water and tiny, tiny boats so far below. Some nut who obviously doesn't understand not everyone is comfortable staring into the gaping jaws of death, goes zinging by on a bike. "On your left." I wanted to rip off that daintily chiming bell and throw it over the side of the bridge. Though imagining following the flight as it disappeared into a speck and knowing you wouldn't even see the splash, made me a little nauseous. 

So instead, I stagger to the nice massive, stone constructed support tower. Exhaling slowly, starting to relax now that I am holding on to the sturdy support, THAT IS PART OF THE WHOLE BRIDGE THAT IS SWAYING ever so gently in the breeze. Clinging to the tower, realizing on one side you are protected by the wind, I work around all 4 sides. Keeping my back in contact  with the cold stone, one hand holding on to any purchase hold I can find, the other in a sweaty death grip on the camera. Snapping away and hoping even one will come out well, because this is one thing that is never happening again. 

Progress is measured by inches. Sliding one foot at a time, like the person you see in the movies who was dumb enough to go out on a window ledge, because you'll be damned if you don't get photos of the view before you pass out and have to be carried down. One trip around the tower and not a chance in hell that we are going to walk across the bridge as we so naively planned just 20 minutes ago when on terra firma. 

Annnndddd it's time to let go, pry those fingers loose, take one shaky step forward, avoiding another kamikaze biker and their chiming bell. The goal is the plywood blinders. It's possible. Because getting down is the only way I am going to see if the photos came out. 

I did. And they did.

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