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Some of this could be cut off by driving a road, but even in my contrived adventures I am something of a purist, so I planned to hike every mile. The day I turned 18 was my first and last experience with bungee jumping.I considered trying to knock it out in one day, but didn't want to risk wrenching my wobble knee on rubble in the dark. I was accompanied by my senior-year boyfriend, Eric, who was a few years older and attended community college."I did three 13ers for my 39th, which means I need to do four 14ers for my 40th!" The math didn't actually work out, and I don't even care all that much about 14ers. But I admit, there is transcendental draw to climbing as high as one can go.

I found a lovely campsite just a quarter mile from the Missouri Gulch Trailhead, where I was packed and ready to start at a.m.This was the day I realized that I wasn’t, and would never be, an adrenaline junkie.Thursday and Friday brought an encouraging weather window.I attempted to kick my body sideways — the way one stops a snowboard — and began to spin. I remember feeling confident that if I couldn’t stop before I hit the lake I’d just swim, not acknowledging that my body would probably be spinning at freeway speeds when I hit the shallow water.Eventually the whirling slowed, my head stopped spinning, and I staggered onto my feet.

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