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Hot summer days mean time on the water. There are many ways to enjoy your time on the lake. Lounging in an inflatable float with a cold beverage seems to be the most popular. Others like to hang out on the boat without getting in the water for fear that freshwater sharks exist. But for those that don’t do “still” well, another activity permeates our lakes and rivers cultures: Jumping off high places into the water.

This pastime is not new. There is a reason why every bridge over a body of water has a sign that says, “No Jumping from Bridge.” There is some sort of a bug-to-zapper attraction between bridges and daredevils. Sometimes it may have a similar outcome.

A more legal way to get your adrenaline fix is to jump off a rock. Even if something is legal, it doesn’t make it safe. Jumping from heights without evaluating your landing is about as smart as walking blindfolded across I-26.  

This Friday, I went to a spot I have jumped from for years. I had not been since Helene and found that the normally deep landing area had silted to only five feet deep. Jumping from 20 feet into mud that may contain tree trunks and sharp sticks is a recipe for an urgent care center visit, so we went off to look for deeper pastures.

The next rock was thirty feet high with more than thirty feet of clear, deep water to catch us. My sister and I scrambled up the wall to hurl ourselves off the top. The trick to jumping off high points is not to dwell on it. We had to wait for some friends who wanted to capture a video. As the seconds ticked by, the rock seemed to be getting taller.

We made small talk until we heard someone on the boat say, “Ok, we are ready! One, two, three…”

“Don’t you one, two, three me!” was my immediate thought. I have never seen anyone successfully conquer their fear of heights by having someone floating on a Styrofoam noodle, drinking a beverage, and counting them down from thirty feet below. No ma’am, don’t you “one, two, three” me.

This mental argument took my mind off the height and replaced the hesitation with hubris. I proudly stepped off the rock and entered the water in a tight pencil with hands straight overhead. My sister followed with perfect form. 

After recently turning forty, I wonder how many more years I will jump off rocks. When will I trade climbing rock faces and adrenaline for pool floats and encouraging folks to jump? 

The exhilaration of jumping off a perfectly good rock and free-falling into a clear mountain lake may have turned back the clock. Dieting and exercise are keys to living a long, healthy life. But adventure makes that life even more worth living. So, look for a tall guy jumping off a rock at the next lake outing. I may try a back flip, but don’t you even think about trying to “one, two, three…” me.