In our last day in Banos, I decided to jump off a bridge.
It was terrifying.
But it was only 20 bucks, so I thought better do it now while I’m only semi-scared and interested, rather than wait and find an expensive version back in the States.
There are three options for bridge jumping in town: 30 meters, 50 meters, and 100. Well, I was not about to do the 100. But somehow I was talked into the 50. I distinctly heard the word “bungee” during the sales pitch, which was why I was willing to go do it. There was no bungee. Buyer be warned.
At 10 am I walked ten minutes from downtown to the San Francisco bridge across from the bus terminal with the tour guide and Jordan. The guys setting up the jump were already there, securing ropes in place. I carefully looked over them and the harnesses to make sure nothing was frayed.
They put me in and helped me climb onto the ledge. I’m not really sure what I was thinking, honestly. You can tell by the look on my face I’m not sure if I should regret my decision or be excited.
Then I was supposed to jump. The view was gorgeous, but I was about to fall 164 feet, and that didn’t sound good to me.
“Look straight out, don’t look down,” my safety person told me. “Don’t look down.”
That is easy to say.
“Okay. One, two, three, go!”
And I didn’t move.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I said.
“Okay, okay. One, two, three, go!”
Somehow I left the little wooden platform attached to the bridge railing.
And fell a very long way. And screamed the whole way.
The rope had very little give in it, so the landing was rough on my neck. But I was okay!
The weight was rough on the harness and my legs, but I made the rest of the trip down slowly and then caught a rope from the guy at the bottom.
After being unhooked, I just had the quit shaking and hyperventilating, then climbed back up the hill to the bridge. For 20 USD, it was quite the experience. I think it was a good experience, but my neck was sore the next day.
I still can’t believe I did that.