just when i think it can't get any better

i go canyoning. every time i tried to get a good definition of canyoning, i heard the words waterfalls, rocks, and SCARY. i always thought i was pretty brave, but it turns out i'm a big chicken. i learned that while trying to scuba dive the great barrier reef. i am terribly afraid of the ocean, but i figured the best way to overcome my fear was to face it, so i attempted to do a baby dive on the reef, because really, diving is the only way to see it, they say. i learned, however, that facing your fears does not actually result in you overcoming them, but facing your fears results in a panic attack. i tried three times and panicked three times. so i gave up and snorkeled like a chump and then sat on the boat feeling sorry for myself while the nice dutch instructor brought me food slathered in mayonnaise. i think he thought that more mayonnaise would make me feel better. he was right. but anyway, this is not about hyperventilation or tasty food condiments, this is about canyoning and how i was terrified...even though i signed up for it.

we got to the place after only 2 wrong turns (props to ari's driving, but not my navigating) and donned 3 layers of neoprene-a wet suit and two other layers that were terribly difficult to put on (and they smelled bad). ari and i had a great time taking ninja pictures until we realized the kids were ready and our instructors were impatient.

 we were supposed to take a cable car to the canyon, but it was "broken" so we hiked...for an hour...uphill...in 85 degree weather...in 3 layers of neoprene. i wanted to punch our instructor in his very attractive face. however, we got to the starting spot and the freezing water actually turned out to be a nice reward for the death march. and it was absolutely beautiful. we were in a very remote spot, but there, surrounded by trees was a charming stone cottage with a water wheel. the river ran by the side of the cottage and pink and white flowers grew along the banks, framing the cottage. about 10 feet behind the cottage was a waterfall that pooled behind the cottage. the whole picture was breathtaking...so was the water. we climbed up rocks to a cliff about 20 feet above a pool in the river and jumped off. i hate the high dive, i did it once when i was a kid and it hurt so bad i never did it again. but there's something about being in place like this, having these amazing experiences, (and also my helmet and layers that made me feel invincible) that makes me do things i'd never do at home...so i jumped. other than the six gallons of water that shot up my nose and into my brain, it was thrilling. i was so pleased with myself. but there was more. we slid down boulders and waded through pools. we hit a waterfall, so we had to rapell down the side. rapelling was fun, but the rocks were slippery and three times i lost my footing and slammed into the side of the moss covered rock. finally the instructor gave up on me and dropped me into the water. loved it. the climax came when we reached yet another waterfall. this one was not suitable for rapelling, it was suitable for sliding. we laid down at the top of the waterfall and the instructor pushed us off a slippery rock. we couldn't see where the waterfall ended until we had surfaced off the bottom. the drop was over 25 feet and 23 of those feet were freefall. other than the additional six gallons of water in my brain, it was amazing. all in all, a great time...but i'll probably never do it again. i might be brave now, but i'm no fool.