As promised last week, here are some more triumphal anecdotes regarding my fear of heights.
This summer, my husband, Dan, and I went on a road trip, to Banff and Jasper National Parks in Canada.
Side Note: It was refreshing being in Canada. For some reason, they don't fly beaten up national flags (or racist flags) off the back of huge ass trucks. The drive through Northern Idaho, however, was frightening . . .
Our first day in Banff, we explored Johnston Canyon. The entire out-and-back hike was on a suspended bridge over a canyon. I even stood on the bridge for quite a while, waiting in line to get a selfie in the special waterfall cave.
A friend of ours had recommended this attraction, and he assured me there were nice, solid rails the entire way. And there were, even when the path pulled away from the side of the canyon 😳.
Next, I rode the Lake Louise Gondola. The gondola was enclosed, and I thought I was doing a pretty good job, anxiety-wise.
I mean, I snapped, "STOP MOVING!" at Dan a couple of times, but I felt pretty confident . . . until he showed me this video:
When I posted this on Facebook, my friends' comments proved how well they know me. [Edited slightly for brevity and privacy]
- Always a lover of heights!
- Hey, that's the same face when you had to go up the stairs on stage, LOL.
- I walked her up the stairs during rehearsals for Chicago. By showtime, her bravery on the way to the gallows was awesome (kind of)!
I asked Dan
how he got this picture at exactly the right moment.
He said this
was my expression the entire ride.
But the view was gorgeous. I thought I had enjoyed it!
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