My guess would be “Thank God I can take a little break here, my hands and arms had started shaking with exhaustion… I wonder if a helicopter could come close enough to drop a rope to me?”
Apparently it’s 1800 feet up and “only” another 200 feet to get to the top of that climb.
Still, I think the only thing I would be thinking there would be some variation of “why the hell did I come up here and how soon can I be safely back aground!”
I’m very far from doing something like this, but I do have quite a bit of experience hiking/climbing in exposed terrain, so I can do my best: People usually start off enjoying relatively light hikes in the mountains, because it feels good to be hiking in cool terrain with awesome views. As you get more experience, what seemed scary a couple years ago doesn’t look scary anymore. You like hiking, so you go for the hike, without thinking much about the fact that you thought it looked scary and dangerous a couple years ago.
Keep repeating this cycle, and you might suddenly find yourself tied into a rope, with crampons, an ice pick, and skis on your back, on the top of some frozen mountain that looked insurmountable some years ago. It doesn’t even feel scary, just really awesome.
Add some brain damage (slight joke, but Alex Honnold does have a smaller “fear center” than most people), and you end up in situations like the one in the photo.
My point is that it isn’t really about adrenaline seeing like a lot of people think. It’s about going for awesome hikes, and your limits for what you feel safe doing shifting over time as you gain experience.
Why? Why would you do this?
And to quote Gwen on Galaxy Quest:
Well fuck that!
I have a fear of heights, so this is terrifying to me. I also wonder why people do this.
I have a fear of heights.
I broke my ankle in a life altering way falling down two stairs unto a sidewalk. That, to me, justified my already reasonable fear of heights.
I don’t understand why this is the “Thank God” ledge rather than the “Oh My God!” or similar ledge.
My guess would be “Thank God I can take a little break here, my hands and arms had started shaking with exhaustion… I wonder if a helicopter could come close enough to drop a rope to me?”
Apparently it’s 1800 feet up and “only” another 200 feet to get to the top of that climb.
Or so I’m reading from safe in my bed!
That’s a fair interpretation, I suppose.
Still, I think the only thing I would be thinking there would be some variation of “why the hell did I come up here and how soon can I be safely back aground!”
I’m very far from doing something like this, but I do have quite a bit of experience hiking/climbing in exposed terrain, so I can do my best: People usually start off enjoying relatively light hikes in the mountains, because it feels good to be hiking in cool terrain with awesome views. As you get more experience, what seemed scary a couple years ago doesn’t look scary anymore. You like hiking, so you go for the hike, without thinking much about the fact that you thought it looked scary and dangerous a couple years ago.
Keep repeating this cycle, and you might suddenly find yourself tied into a rope, with crampons, an ice pick, and skis on your back, on the top of some frozen mountain that looked insurmountable some years ago. It doesn’t even feel scary, just really awesome.
Add some brain damage (slight joke, but Alex Honnold does have a smaller “fear center” than most people), and you end up in situations like the one in the photo.
My point is that it isn’t really about adrenaline seeing like a lot of people think. It’s about going for awesome hikes, and your limits for what you feel safe doing shifting over time as you gain experience.
“Well
fuckscrew that!”Is my memory failing me and she actually did say “fuck that” and they dubbed it over with “screw that”?
They did. Apparently, it threatened the films PG rating. If they left it in, it would’ve been PG-13.
Yup! Your memory is correct!
Never give up, never surrender!