New Thing #65 - Italy - Travel Days

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Woke up (EARLY) this morning giddy and damn relieved that I didn't have the stomach flu. Last night was pure torture as I proceeded to hurl up every last remnant of my lunch. I panicked, thinking I was coming down with the stomach flu, since my stomach felt like that creature from Alien was trying to make his debut. Nooooo! I can't be sick. I leave in 12 hours!! I had been so careful in the weeks leading up to this trip. I avoided big crowds, snotty kids, Mardi Gras and pumped Vitamin C into my body on a continual basis. But, fortunately, it was nothing but a burger lunch that did not sit well with me at all. I nearly cried in relief since today I would begin the long trek across a few continents, an ocean, and the boundaries of my quiet peaceful life in the Midwest. (Insert dramatic Rocky-esque music here.)

I'm going to Italy, people. IT-A-LY! I have been dreaming for this day since probably my first experience with pizza and art history. Italy has always been this mysterious romantic bubble of happiness that has always been just out of my reach. Until now. 5 short months ago, a flight was booked to Rome and crazy planning and packing has ensued ever since.

I'm going with my friend Brenda, who is actually a relatively new addition to my friend circle. I only met her in late 2009 after being introduced by a mutual friend. We quickly realized we had a lot in common, including a witty - and sometimes naughty - sense of humor, a love for semi-narcicisstic blogs, and the hunger for travel. We jokingly made a comment to each other last year that we should go on a trip somewhere across the pond. That joke turned into serious conversations and eventually led us to where we are now. In the midst of our planning, Brenda's friend from college, Nikki, had contacted her about traveling somewhere soon as well. They've been on a vacation or two before, so they both knew how fun the other would be to travel with. Nikki seemed to be a great addition to our travel group, and it made for a nice fun number. I had never met Nikki, as she lived in Chicago, but knowing Brenda, I was sure that Nikki would fit right in.

So, back to this morning. I rechecked that I had my passport for the 483rd time, and constantly rethought every single thing I had packed. I'm a Boy Scout by nature. I pack more than I need nearly every time I travel. Even if it's an overnight trip to see my parents, you'd think I was going to a third world country. But, I couldn't help thinking that I had packed too much or that I didn't have enough underwear to last me two weeks. Do I really need those shoes? Should I pack another cami? Will I need a warmer sweater? Is this lint roller really necessary? Mock me all you want, but we could run into a spaghetti emergency, and only my Tide-To-Go stick will save the day. I don't really regret anything that I packed...now that I'm home. However, I did hate the fact that my flippin' suitcase weighed 38-effing pounds. But, I'll get to that later.

Ok, passport, check. Money, check. Passport, check. I rechecked all of my outlets, switches and toilet to make sure my house would be in tip-top shape upon my return. My friend Betsy would be periodically checking on my house and getting my mail, but I kept thinking that maybe I had forgotten to turn off the imaginary iron I thought I had left on. Good grief, I just need to get the hell out of here, before I caused myself to have a coronary.

Passport, check.

Finally off to Brenda's where I would be leaving my car, all the while mentally going through my suitcase. We would be taking Brenda's car to Chicago and fly out of O'Hare. She let me borrow her bathroom scale to weigh my suitcase, which was a bit difficult to use since it is enormous and wouldn't actually sit on the scale. I'm sure we looked a bit ridiculous trying to weigh a suitcase in her parking lot. I was still worried I had brought too much, but for the life of me, I couldn't come up with anything that would be okay to leave at home.

Part 1 of our journey.

We packed up our stuff and headed to pick up her niece. We were taking her niece to her parent's house as a favor for her sister since it was all on our way. We had plenty of time to kill since Nikki would be completing a full day of work. Her niece wasn't the happiest of travelers at one point, but we made it to her parent's in time for lunch and then made the rest of the drive to Chicago quite uneventfully. A light dinner and then off to get Nikki. While we waited for her boyfriend to show up to take us to the airport, I AGAIN rethought out my packing selection. Especially after feeling Brenda and Nikki's suitcases. Good grief, are they even bringing anything?! I finally opted to leave my extra tennis shoes at the house, since my walking shoes should be good enough. It didn't exactly help much, but I do have big feet. That means heavier shoes.

Don't mock me.

And of course, as soon as we got in the car for the airport, I regretted my decision to leave my tennis shoes. I kept thinking that they would probably be better for our hike that my current shoes. Sonuva. I'm a hot mess. I HATE packing for trips. Especially to a damn foreign country.

We made it to the airport pretty early, but we all wanted to make sure we didn't have any problems getting to the plane on time. Checking in was easy breezy, and fortunately my suitcase only weighed 38 pounds, and didn't exceed the 51 pound limit. Nikki's was only 30 pounds and Brenda was somewhere in between the two of us. Great, that only gives me roughly 12 pounds worth of stuff I can bring home! (In my defense, I packed clothes for every day, not really planning on rewearing much except for pants. I tend to sweat a lot.)

Finally, it was time to board the plane. The longest flight I've ever been on was a little over 4 hours to California. This flight was going to be around 7 or so. I wasn't sure how I would fare. I had a magazine, a crossword puzzle book and my headphones. I hoped I would have some in-flight entertainment, but mostly I expected I would sleep. I've never really been in a much bigger airplane than what Southwest flies, so, I wasn't prepared for the size of the plane and some of the amenities. There were 2 seats next to each window, and then 5 seats in the middle surrounded by aisles. We had 3 of the middle seats and ended up actually having the entire 5 seats to ourselves. We also had little TV sets in the back of the seats in front of us, so we could enjoy our own programming. Yes, I thought that was cool. Yes, I know I'm a nerd.

Very smiley! Brenda is on the left, Nikki on the right.

We settled into our seats, giddy and eager for our trip. And then the mother with her 3 unhappy children settled directly in front of us. Apparently Brenda has terrible travel luck and she had to force it upon Nikki and I as well. Fortunately, they really were only obnoxious for the beginning of the trip and eventually settled down to sleep after we got underway. Only a few random spots throughout the trip did one wake up unsure of where they were and cried out. But, they usually went right back to sleep. I felt bad for the mother because she was trying to corral 3 kids, but it was still kind of annoying.

We had just gotten settled in and kind of drowsy when our meal came. At midnight. I wasn't exactly hungry, but figured I better eat while I can...I have no idea when the next meal will come. It was so adorable (I've never had a meal on a plane except for crackers and a soda). We had a tiny salad with dressing, chicken in a spicy tomato sauce with mashed potatoes and green beans, a roll with butter, crackers and gruyere cheese and a brownie. Not bad for airplane food. I actually thought it was pretty good.

After our meal, I was wide awake and put on Harry Potter #7 and watched for a while until I dozed off. I tried to get comfy, but that was virtually impossible. I did last nearly 5 hours into the flight before I had to break the seal though. Pretty impressive for me. It was 3 am Chicago time and we were somewhere over the Atlantic at this point. I was kind of bummed we couldn't see out any windows, but it was dark and wouldn't have mattered anyway. I also might not have liked looking out the window to see nothing but water everywhere. Our TVs were equipped with handy dandy little flight information that kept us apprised of our current location. A little more sleep and eventually it was time for breakfast. A croissant, some raspberry yogurt and orange juice. Again, not bad.

Somewhere over the northern Atlantic.

Finally arrived at Heathrow in London, and I swear the entire airport was bigger than St. Louis. We probably took a hallway that was at least a mile long just to go down 3 more levels and around 85 corners. Good thing they had people movers. We finally got to the "end" of the level and found we needed to take a BUS to our next terminal. It was probably a good 10 minute drive to the other terminal (on the wrong side of the road, by the way), another escalator, a mini screening, another escalator, a full security screening and one more escalator. Good grief, where the eff is our gate? We finally arrive at our terminal and it looks like a giant mall. Shops are everywhere. Fancy shops, liquor shops, watch shops, you name it, you could buy just about anything you wanted at the airport. And duty free too!

Our gate hadn't been assigned yet, so we found a few seats to wait it out, while trying not to fall asleep. Jet lag's a bitch. An hour or so later, we found our gate, luckily close to where we were waiting, grabbed a bagel and boarded the plane. It also had TVs, so we planned on staying awake to watch a movie. Nope. Didn't happen. I think we might have all been asleep before the plane even left the tarmac. It was an uneventful flight and we finally arrived in Rome at 5 pm or so Italy time on Wednesday night. I had been up for over 24 hours with little real sleep. It's amazing I was even standing. But, I think the excitement and adrenaline helped.

New Thing #64 - There's a Mouse in My House

I'm not a super girly-girl. At least not 95% of the time. However, when faced with a rodent walking non-chalantly across the back of my couch, I turn into a stuttering, hysterical little girl.

Dealing with a mouse is definitely not on my bucket list, but I guess I have to put on my big-girl panties and deal with it. However, I did not deal with it very well.


A few nights ago, I was enjoying a nice quiet evening in with my friend Brenda. We were noshing on pizza, catching up on the week's episode of Modern Family when Brenda not-so-calmly said "There's a mouse in your house." Or something like that. I don't really recall the exact phrase, all that registered was one word. MOUSE. I've dealt with mice all my life, since I grew up on a farm. But I didn't like them then, and I don't like them now. I proceeded to freak the eff out, jump off the loveseat and fly across the room. "Are you serious?" I practically yelled at Brenda. She seemed to second guess herself (rightfully so, since I was giving her the look of death and disbelief). She assured me it was real and that it had run under the loveseat. Insert expletive here.


I grabbed a flashlight and gingerly peered underneath both my couch and loveseat to try to spy a set of beady little eyes. No such luck. We spent about 5 minutes looking from every angle to try to find my new furry companion. All I found was that holy crap, I REALLY need to dust under my furniture. It's embarrassing. And where did that Sprite bottle come from?


We started to believe that maybe it was just an eye twitch or Lord only knows, Brenda was having a stroke. (I really didn't think she was crazy, but I'll admit I was kinda hoping so...I did NOT want to believe I had a rodent in my house.) After tearing the cushions off the loveseat and not seeing a thing, I joined Brenda on the couch to watch some more TV. All I kept thinking was what the eff am I going to do about a mouse in my house?


Five minutes went by and Brenda screeched again, "There it is again. I swear it's real!" But, I still hadn't seem the damn thing. Again, we flew off the couch, grabbed our flashlights and peered under the furniture from an 8-10' distance. But, I saw nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. I did happen to remember that my dad had given me some mouse traps at one point, so I flew down to the basement. It was only two glue traps, but it was better than nothing. I put one near the couch, hoping the little buggar would get stuck. Brenda started singing "Somewhere Out There" hoping he might join her in a resounding chorus. (That's a Fievel Goes West reference. :) No such luck. We did however have a name for our creepy little house guest.


We sat in the hallway with our eyes peeled for a good 20 minutes or so. My heart was racing, wondering what I was going to do. Mice creep me the eff out. I can't have one in my house. While we sat there, we both joked about what we would do if he came darting out from under the couch right at us. Considering how ballsy this little guy was, I didn't doubt it was possible. I grabbed the closest weapon I could find. A towel.

Don't judge me.

And so we waited.


I still hadn't seen this thing. Could it really be a figment of her imagination? I seriously doubted it. Brenda is a bright girl. And I would hope she'd know better than to give me a heart attack. But I still saw nothing. Some time went by and we thought it might be safe to resume our evening on the furniture. Brenda staked out the couch to watch and wait for signs of the evil spawn. I wasn't so eager, so I opted to sit on the arm of the loveseat and keep a weather eye on the floor.


I wasn't to be disappointed. I was minding my own business when out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement. There, under the couch, I saw an eerie ghostlike figure moving ever-so-slowly toward the edge. He was just hidden enough in the shadows that I could barely make him out, giving him that eerie glow. But, he was there. Oh good Lord, he was there. NOOOOOOOOO! I screamed "Oh my god, I see him!" Brenda was vindicated, but I was totally creeped out. I saw him, staring at me. With those soulless eyes.


He had headed in the direction of the glue trap, so I hoped to hell he walked through it. No such luck. I lost sight of him. A few minutes later, he darted out from underneath the loveseat and ran under my coffee table. But, that's where I lost him. We tried to corner his escape, but he's effing Houdini and he freakin' disappeared. Dammit!!


It was nearing 10pm at this point and Brenda wanted to head home for the night. She offered to let me sleep at her place, but I tried to be brave and said I'd stay at home. She reassured me "mice can't climb", although I didn't believe that for a second. We said goodbye and I braved myself for the night ahead.


As I prepared for my nightly before-bed rituals, I walked past the kitchen and looked to see that the glue trap I placed there was not where I left it. It was about 4 inches away and cockeyed. Hmmm, that's funny, I don't think I kicked it. I kept walking and about 90 seconds later, I heard a strange noise that sounded like fingernails on metal. Clink clink clink. Oh. My. God. I think it's in the kitchen. I walked 2 feet into the room and yep, I saw it. It was rooting around in my freaking sink. In my SINK, people. I had a stainless steel bowl and a cookie sheet drying in the strainer, and Fievel was trying out his own version of S.T.O.M.P. by playing the bowl with a wooden spoon.

I. Flipped. Out. Even more than I had all night. I immediately dialed Brenda and the next minute was a mixture of gobbledy gook and garbled lunacy. I honestly have no idea what I said. I think there was something about "Bitch, mice can CLIMB." And, "It's in my SINK!!"

Wait, hold up....he MOVED the glue trap out of his way. He's the Einstein Mouse. Great, I get the one who's not afraid of people and who likes to eff with said people's sanity by moving the glue traps around.

Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Oh no, he's walking on my counter now. GROSS! Guess I'll have to throw that out now. Sonuva. He eventually disappeared behind my mixer and I slinked out of the room with my mind racing. I still thought to myself, "I'm just going to go to sleep and forget about him". I proceeded to pad both of my bedroom doors with towels and blankets in a desperate attempt that he will see that as a sign of "Privacy Please". I knew that was stupid, that if he wanted to get in, he sure as hell could. But, it was all I could do to keep some sanity.


I could still hear him moving around in the kitchen, so I turned on some music to drown him out and hoped to hell I could get some sleep. I eventually fell asleep, only because I was exhausted from a long week. A few hours into my slumber, I had a dream that he was crawling all over my arms, so I awoke in a stupor and swatted at my arms and the bed. I quickly fell back asleep assuring myself it was just a dream.

Now, in the light of day, I'm not so sure.

When I awoke the next morning, I carefully peered down at the floor to make sure he wasn't lying in wait to pounce on my unprotected tootsies. I grabbed the first forcefield, aka a blanket, and froze in place. There, right in front of me was a tiny disembodied tail peeking out from underneath the door. AHHHHHHH!!! It slept not 2 feet from me all night. The events of the night unfolded in my brain and I shuddered to think that he was probably trying to snuggle in my warm bed during the night. Blech! I can't describe here the severity of my shudder at the thought that HE WAS CRAWLING ALL OVER MY ARMS AND POSSIBLY MY FACE.


I had no way of grabbing him, even if I was capable of actually grabbing a live mouse by the tail. At the cool breeze from lifting the blanket, he burrowed further into his warm nest. DAMMIT. Good thing I have another door to get out of my bedroom. I proceeded to the shower, where I felt like at any moment, he was going to join me for a quick swim. Fastest shower ever, I might add. The rest of the morning went by rather easily, and I headed to Target to get a few more death traps for the little bastard. I ended up with 8 conventional traps, 8 glue traps and 2 spinning traps that were designed to not let me see the dead body. I liked that idea. I placed a total of 10 in and around my living room, kitchen and bedroom, using peanut butter as bait. Surely, one of these things would do the trick.


I got ready to leave for the day, heading to my sister's house to celebrate my niece's birthday. I took one last look under the blanket to see if Fievel was still there, and I really should have thought it through more. Fievel was in full view just staring at me as I lifted the blanket. Crud. As I thought it through to go get a box or something to cover him, he must have read my mind, because he dashed back into his hiding place. Crap, I lost my advantage of surprise.


I left the house feeling confident that he would be dead when I got home.


Fast forward 24 hours. I have never wished for my home to produce the acrid smell of rotting flesh wafting through it like I did when I came home this morning. Dead mouse smell I could handle. Another night of Fievel doing the happy dance on my forehead, I could not. I walked in and instantly I smelled my home fragrance and I was dejected. I pressed on and continued to look at every trap. Not one of them had Fievel in it. Shit. And the more I looked, I realized that ALL of the conventional traps were licked clean. Not a single trace of peanut butter remained. And not a single one of them tripped. I nearly started to cry. This can not be possible. I have the smartest, ballsiest mouse on the planet trying to be my roommate.


I shrugged it off and decided to try a trick my brother wrote me about. It involved a 5-gallon bucket, a ruler and as many traps that would fit in the bucket. I placed some PB on the end of the ruler and placed it precariously on the edge of my coffee table, pb end over the edge. Under the ruler, I placed the 5-gallon bucket with 7 set traps in the bottom. The idea is that Fievel will be desperate for the pb, walk out on the ruler, fall into the bucket and get snapped by a trap. At the very least he'll get trapped in the bucket without being able to climb up the sides. Seems like a very straight-forward plan and something an engineer would come up with. Thanks bro.


I did as he directed and proceeded to work on stuff in the rest of my house. I was sitting at my dining room table on the computer when I saw him peek from the side of the coffee table. He took stock of the bucket and tried to climb it a few times. He walked round and round and tried desperately to climb up the side of the coffee table, but it was too tall and slippery for him. Over and over again he tried to get to the little nugget of goodness on the end of the ruler. I quickly realized that I hadn't thought out how he was going to get to the ruler. I guess I thought he could get up there. He finally gave up and I got pissed. I had an opportunity to catch him and I let it go. Although, to be honest, when I started for the living room, he ran and hid for a few minutes until the noise subsided. I don't think I could have actually captured him with the box I was wielding, even if I tried. He came back a few times and tried it again and again, but would give up and just run around my couch like it was his own personal jungle gym. I could do nothing but watch him disrespect my couch, and my life, time and time again. Guess I'm going to have to burn my couch too. Bummer.


I grabbed my laptop desk that keeps my legs from getting hot when using my laptop and leaned it up against the table, hoping he would use it as a little ramp. 4 hours went by and I guess he thought it was best to stay hidden, because he didn't come out again. Shoot. I was hoping he would end his own life before bed, so I could actually sleep.


I spent the entire afternoon trying, hoping and praying that Fievel would just die already. I checked my Facebook updates and saw a couple of ideas from my dad and my brother's best friend, Keith. Keith suggested I wedge a potato chip into the trigger of the trap so the little guy would have to work at it. Dad suggested I set the trap in the middle of a square of glue traps. Well, it couldn't hurt. I already had two teeter-totter traps set up in the house and he hadn't set off either one. Might as well try something else.


I didn't have any potato chips, but I did have a nutty granola bar that I took a piece and wedged onto the underside of the trigger. I coated the bottom in peanut butter and then set the trap in the kitchen. I took four glue traps and made a square around the trap. I even taped the glue traps to the floor because I noticed he had just been moving them around. I crossed my fingers, turned the light out and hoped for the best.


Not twenty minutes later I was in the guest bedroom assessing the situation of sleeping in there. I had considered sleeping at a friend's, but I didn't really want to do that. I heard a faint noise that I thought was him rooting around, so I grabbed my flashlight and flashed it onto my little minefield. A rush of relief washed over me when I saw a little blob attached to the trap that had been flipped upside down. Could it really be? I rushed to the overhead light in time to see Fievel struggling to free himself from death's door. I held my breath, almost afraid he'd wring himself loose, stick his tongue out at me and run for the safety of my bed. But, to my relief, he stopped moving altogether and I waited patiently for a few minutes for him to cross over into mouse hell. Surely he wouldn't go to heaven after wreaking havoc on my life for 48 hours.


Now came the dilemma of getting him out of my house. Remember how a mouse brought out my inner little girl, I was not picking this thing up with my bare hands. He had toppled over onto a glue trap, so I knew he'd bring it with him if I picked up the trap. My creativity blossomed and I ran to the basement to grab my snow shovel. Brilliant. It still grossed me out to shovel his lifeless body into my trash, but I did it with such pleasure. Eventually his final resting place became the dumpster in the alley behind my house and I was able to release all the tension coursing through my body.


I can finally get my house and my life back. Who knew such a tiny creature could wreak such havoc on one person? I guess when you're a scaredy cat afraid of rodents, it happens.


Side note: I was not at all happy to find all the poo pellets on my sheets. It was like his own personal litter box. I will either have to boil or burn that entire set. And I also found those little poo pellets all over my kitchen. In the pantry, on the counter, in the recycling. I nearly suffocated myself with lemon Lysol cleaner trying to disinfect the entire room.

New Thing #63 - Bridge Day, Take Two

So I headed back to Bridge Day again this year. This is technically not a new thing, but I did do a highline from the bridge to the ground, which was new. I'll get to that soon, but you know me, I have to talk about everything else first! If you don't know what Bridge Day is, shame on you for not reading my blog from last year. :) I'll keep it brief for those of you who know. Bridge Day is a day dedicated to legal B.A.S.E. jumping off the New River Gorge Bridge in West Virginia. There, if you want to now more, read my old blog. ;-)

Again, I drove to Indy from StL to meet Meredith and Ben, but this year I drove on Wednesday night. I did not want to do the 10+ hour drive all in one day. I think that started me off on the cranky route last year and I didn't want that again. It helped out and Meredith and I started off for WV the following day. Ben and the rest of the crew, Alex, Mico and Paola, were coming later in the day, since they had to wait for Alex's flight to arrive from Texas.

The trip was smooth and took us around 6.5 hours. It would have taken a bit less time had we not gotten slightly lost a few times, nor took so many pee breaks. I swear, we stopped at the same McDonald's we did last year! Fortunately, we made it and found our new cabin for the weekend. It was frikkin' gorgeous. I know I said that about last year's cabin, but sweet sassy molassey, this place was a palace compared to that one. This cabin was new, built only recently, on the same grounds as where the registration for Bridge Day was. It has five, count 'em FIVE, bedrooms and two bathrooms, satellite TV, fire pit, enormous bbq grill, hot tub, and the list goes on. The wood inside was absolutely gorgeous and I could not get over how pretty it was. Okay, it wasn't like a mansion or anything, but compared to the tents on platforms a half a mile from where we were staying, we scored. The only problem was the toilets. Toilets, you say? Yeah, when they flushed, it sounded like a jet engine taking off. Good grief, were they shooting the poo to Siberia or something? Who knew toilets could be so bloody powerful?

I love the smell of fresh lumber in the morning!

The living/dining area view from the bottom of the stairs.

Satellite TV and gas fireplace. Fancy.

Kitchen with back door to covered deck.

Back deck with the hot tub!!

My room upstairs. The other rooms looked pretty much exactly the same with a giant dresser, two night tables and a large closet.

The nice big bathroom with the ceramic tile. It was nice having two full bathrooms this year for the 8 of staying at the cabin. Too bad when someone took a pee break at 3am, everyone knew about it.

Pretty steps!

Moving on. Thursday night was nice and relaxing, and Meredith and I were able to kick back and enjoy the hot tub after a long day of driving. I was bummed last year that we weren't able to use it, so I was bound and determined not to let that happen again this year. Friday dawned, and we once again made our way to the jumper registration. Even though this is a long day, it's actually one of my favorite parts of Bridge Day. We get to meet so many interesting (and some not so much) people. This year was no exception. We got to see some old faces (Adam!), and made new friends (Taylor!). These people that I meet there are like a giant family. Even though so many of them come from different areas of the globe, they all seem to know each other and are truly loyal to one another. I feel like I'm part of a family, even though I don't even B.A.S.E. jump. It's a really cool feeling.

We ran into John Solomon again, the guy who jumped last year for the first time for his 69th birthday. He was back at it again, and was the cutest grandpa ever. If I didn't already have two awesome grandpas, he's the kind of guy I'd like to have. He even brought us some slices of free pizza after Bridge Day was over because we were too busy to get up and get some ourselves. Awwwwww.

We were once again stationed upstairs at the jumper registration where they sign all the waivers not holding anyone at fault if they fall to their unpleasant death and then have their gear checked for any potential dangers. We have a prime setup at the top of the stairs, so we get first dibs on getting people to buy this year's DVD. Like last year, a lot of people just thought we were step one of registration, some people avoided us altogether knowing we were just trying to get them to spend money, and others bought the DVD with little persuasion on my part. Which was kind of a bummer. Come on people, I enjoy the thrill of the sale. At least let me throw out my sales pitch! Oh wait, they bought it, nevermind.

The Jump-Cuts girls!

Our new friend for this year was a hot Canadian named Taylor. Taylor would be our companion for nearly the entire day and he kept us pretty entertained. He was setup right next to us at the top of the stairs and he was selling T-shirts. Unfortunately, the reason he was selling those shirts was to help benefit the family of one of his jumping buddies who tragically lost his life the month before. Sky diving and B.A.S.E. jumping are definitely not without risks. But, anywho, Taylor was working his magic throughout the day, especially on the ladies. But, I couldn't blame him, I was technically doing the same thing to the men to get them to buy our DVD. ;-)

Throughout the course of the day, I found out how people hug in Quebec. So, normally when you hug, your left arm goes underneath the right arm of the person you're hugging and your right arms goes over their left shoulder. Right? In Quebec, it's opposite. Your left arm goes over the person's right shoulder and your right arm goes underneath their left arm. This is also called a heart-to-heart hug. Supposed to be more meaningful or something. Do I believe if this is real or not? What do I care? I got like 7 or 8 hugs outta the guy over the course of the day. I'll call it whatever freakin' kind of hug you want.

We also met Taylor's friend Anthony, and both of these guys had the cutest accents ever. Imagine a surfer. Now imagine a surfer with a Canadian accent. Not something you'd expect, eh? But oh so fun to listen to. Meredith and I bought shirts, of course. We couldn't resist the charm. :) (At least we waited until AFTER he had bought our DVD though.) I now have a B.A.S.E. shirt with a giant red maple leaf on it. I will be the coolest chick in St. Louis. At least the coolest chick for people who know what B.A.S.E. jumping is!

Sporting our Canadian B.A.S.E. shirts with our new friend.

Around the midpoint of the day, we saw Adam, our cutie patootie friend from last year. Aww, Adam! He hasn't changed a bit, still has that devil-may-care grin and the boy next door charm. :) Oh how we've missed Adam! And while we were getting reacquainted with our friend, a random guy started walking up the stairs with a stocking hat.....and no shirt. Hmmm, what the heck is this guy doing walking around with no sh-HOLY SHIT, he's naked! Yep, as he ascended the stairs, he was buck naked, strutting around for all the world to see. He started to make his way around the entire upper story, but stopped to have a quick chat with someone right in front of our table. Where he decided he had an itch that needed to be scratched. In a place no one wanted to see. Fortunately, there was a sign on our table that hid everything from our view, but we still couldn't stop laughing. He proceeded around the giant conference table and back down the stairs. And all it took was a $100 bet to get him to do that. We asked Taylor if he would do that for a Benjamin, but apparently, he's not that cheap. Shoot.

After registration was over, there was a short break for some meetings, while we moved our little booth downstairs by the front door. We would stay here for the rest of the night during the late registration and then be in the same place the following night after Bridge Day to continue to take orders. A sales girl's job is never done! In the process of setting up and hanging out for awhile, some people started asking us questions about the video like what kind of cameras we'd be using, where we'd be set up for shots, etc. etc. Little did I know at the time, but these were some cameramen from ESPN. They were going to be there the entire weekend shooting footage themselves. And they wanted to talk to Ben. Hot damn. I quickly hunted Ben down and got the introductions out of the way. I'm not sure exactly what the conversation was about, but if Ben gets recognition for his hard work with someone like ESPN, then that is frikkin' amazing.

The night started to wear on, and with it my nerves. Bridge Day offers van passes for wives, girlfriends, moms, dads and other spectators to be able to go from the top of the bridge where you can see the exits to the gorge below at the Landing Zone where you can see the landings. For a $10 fee, you can ride the vans as much as you want. Busses are available for all jumpers, rapellers and staff members free of charge. Every G-D person that walked into the lodge that night asked us the same damn question. "Can I buy my van pass here?" In the beginning, our response was polite and extensive...."No, we don't sell the passes, but if you wait until the jumper briefing is over, you'll be able to purchase them upstairs." By the end of the night, I was down to one word answer, just simply "Upstairs" and had made a sign for our table that said "DVD Purchase ONLY. Van passes UPSTAIRS." Did anyone read it? Nope. Did I want to smack every single person that asked me that question? Yep. Did I want to come across the table and backhand the couple that asked me the SAME question THREE times? Hell yes. I can't blame everyone. They had no idea where to buy the van passes and we were stationed right inside the door. And Mere and I look competent enough, like we would be the right people to ask. But, after 3 hours of people asking, I didn't care anymore. I wanted to punch someone. Including Alex, our camera guy who casually asked me in hour 4, "can I buy a van pass from you?"

Saturday dawned, and we were still up at the crack of dawn. Meredith and I to get to the bridge for our highline adventure, and the rest of the crew to help put up the exit platform and get ready for a long day of videotaping. After last year, Ben and Meredith decided that it wasn't beneficial for the two of us to try to sell DVDs on the bridge. Jumpers and their families are the ones who really want to buy, not the local spectators that come to watch. Last year was really a waste of our time, and Meredith and I wanted to actually enjoy the day this year. So, instead, we booked a highline adventure that stretched from the catwalk under the bridge to the ground below.

Setting up.

Eerie view along the edge.

It turned out to be warm and sunny this afternoon, but obviously not yet!

This would be Ben's home for the rest of the day.

I'm attempting to take a photo over the side of the bridge into the gorge below. Fog seems to be hindering my attempt a bit.

Platform work continues.

From the north end looking south down the bridge.

We really had no idea what to expect, as the website wasn't all that intuitive and the people running it weren't the most helpful of human beings. We just showed up at the end of the bridge at 9am and hoped for the best. The fog was ridiculously thick and it was difficult to see much of anything. It was so difficult to see the ground that when the boom truck arrived at 7am to set up the platform, they couldn't find the middle of the bridge right away. It was crazy. And because of that fog, we had to wait awhile before we were able to go. We found out that we would be attached to a rope (similar to ziplining) and we would slowly be lowered to the ground by the guy on the catwalk (not at all similar to ziplining). We wouldn't have control of our speed or stopping or anything. Because of this, it was kinda important for the people on both ends to be able to see one another. Obviously.

Meredith and I were taken first, and we got to walk under the bridge on the catwalk. Which was so unbelievably cool. And not at all for the faint of heart. The catwalk is only as wide as a single person and we weren't strapped to anything. One slip and you could easily fall through the holes into the rocks and trees below. I was a little shaky, but honestly, not too bad. I think the fog made it a bit worse b/c I couldn't see the ground and that was a bit freaky. Weird how I would have been okay if the ground was completely visible, right? I'm weird like that. Besides the jumping from the top and us highlining from the north end, they also had rappellers going off the south end of the bridge. For some reason that was told to us but I don't remember, the rappellers had to get on the catwalk from the north end and WALK all the way to the south end. This bridge is ridiculously long. I did not envy their walk. The other issue was that each one had to pass us on their way down the catwalk. I mentioned that the catwalk was only one person wide, right? So imagine leaning against a simple steel railing, with no fence or anything to keep you from sliding off, while people wedged themselves past you. Goood times.

The catwalk (as seen from the end of the bridge).

While we waited we observed a man taking photos of a stuffed opossum on the bridge. I am not making this up.

It's a bit froggy out!

Two security guards trying to stay warm under the catwalk.

I didn't think to take a photo with no one in my way. That would have been really cool with all of the fog.

On the catwalk, yeah I do my little turn on the catwalk.

Fortunately, the fog finally lifted and we were able to get started. Meredith was closest to the guides, so she was strapped in first. She had to stand up on the railings while the guide hooked the rope to her harness (we at least got our harnesses and helmets BEFORE walking under the cat walk.) After she was strapped in, we asked how I would be positioned to go with her. Well, the guide was not having any of that. Even though they offer the chance to go twosies, he didn't want to risk it for the first zip of the day. So, it looks like Meredith would have to go by herself. Into the foggy mist below. She proceeded to climb over the railing onto the steel support beam and just sat backwards. The guide slowly let out the rope to allow her to descent slooooowly. She hadn't gone more than 15 feet when she hit a snag and then proceeded smoothly to the bottom. It was hard to see her at times, but she made it safely to the ground. I felt bad for her that she was first, but what can you do? We didn't know that would happen. We had to wait for the guide to pull up the connecting ropes before I could go. I still wasn't nervous. I think I was honestly more nervous to run the 5K than I was to do this. I'm odd like that.

Check it oot. You can't see the ground!


Wooo! Fog!

Prep work.

Starting to see the ground.

I wasn't taking a picture of the support beams, but trying to frame out the landing zone in the dead center.

I'll zoom in so you can see it.

View straight down from where we were standing.

Meredith climbing over the railing.

Let there be sun!

There she gooooooooes!

Unfortunately, Meredith was the guinea pig and got hung up a couple times.

Another view of the river before it was my turn.

And now we can finally see the ground!

It was my turn to get hooked into the harness and then my camera decided to be a little bitch. It was cold out this morning. So cold we could see our breaths, despite the thick fog. Because of this, my camera had been acting up for two hours. I'd get to take some pictures and then I'd have to stuff the camera down my jacket to warm up from my body heat. Well, I guess it didn't have enough time to warm up, b/c it froze and wouldn't let me take any pictures or video during the descent the grounds. :( (Fortunately, Meredith had Ben's GoPro helmet cam attached to her head. I'll get that footage later!) The only short moment of slight fear was going over the catwalk wall to get on the outer platform. Really? THAT'S what I was scared of? I was already attached to the rope, so if I did fall, I wouldn't plummet to the ground, but for some reason, those 10 seconds made me a little weak in the knees. But then all it took was for me to sit back like I was sitting in a chair and away I went.

I have to say that the view was spectacular. Breathtaking. Amazing. The ride down? Boring as hell. Apparently Meredith and I have become adrenaline junkies now. And this didn't quite whet our appetite for that. Don't get me wrong, it was still cool and I'm glad I did it, but it was a slow descent down to the ground. There was no thrill. No exhilaration. It was over before I knew it as I made my way to the ground. I don't regret getting the chance to do it, but I do think it's a bit overpriced for the full experience. But I guess any other "normal" person would think it was off the chain. Mere and I are just the exception to the rule. :)

Once we both made it to the bottom, we hopped on one of the jumper busses and made our way around the bottom of the gorge onto the smaller bridge upstream from the big bridge. From here we had some fantastic views of the jumpers. They were just tiny specks on the horizon, but it was so amazing to see it from this angle. We didn't spend too long here before we made our way over to the LZ or Landing Zone. We didn't get to see this last year, so I'm very grateful we were able to this year. This was one of the coolest viewing areas available. Yes, the exits are fun to watch, but most people just kind of leap off into oblivion. At the bottom, you get to see the jump, hear the canopies open and watch as people land gracefully, make a splash into the water or crash into the rocks. While we were down there, we saw a few water landings and a few not-so-graceful trips onto the dirt, but most of them landed on their feet. We did see one guy who crashed into the rocks and had to be taken away on a stretcher. I don't think he ended up breaking anything, but I can't imagine he felt very good.

Breathtaking view of the bridge.

Four way jump with Red-Bull canopies.

You can make out the rappelling lines, just barely. Each jumper was warned to jump away from the bridge so they didn't get tangled in the lines.

Close up of the rappellers.

Perty!

One of a gazillion photos I got of people landing. I don't really want to post all of them!

I love this action shot as he's just touching down!

I love this photo. He just hits the water before his canopy does.

Stick the landing!

Trying to get their canopies out of the way before the next person lands.

I could have stayed down there all day. I really loved watching everyone make their landings. However, we didn't really want to stay down there for hours. We hitched a ride on another bus and made our way back to the bridge. I really wanted to get some photos of the exits. I did not anticipate the crowd, however. I just remembered last year when I could walk freely around without running into anyone. The bus let us off right at the exit point and there was no place to go, there were so many people. The cop told us to get moving, but I have no idea where he wanted us to go. We eventually wormed our way through the crowd, and I found a spot somewhat close to the exit point and got a few pix, but I had no desire to stay. We were tired and there were just too many people.

Ben, hard at work!

Geronimoooo! Yep, that's the camera guy Mark sitting on the edge of the platform!

We made our way down the bridge back to our car, stopping at a few vendor booths along the way for a quick bite to eat. Getting up at 5:30 am sure does fire up the appetite. After we got the car, we headed back to the cabin for a much-needed cat nap, a hot shower and then packed up the car to get ready for the final sales push. Lots of jumpers wait until after the day is over to buy their video, so we knew it would be a madhouse. Some aren't sure if they want to buy until after they jump for the first time, others want to make sure they don't buy a video and then totally bomb with their jumps. It's all understandable, it just makes for a long night for us. At least this time, we didn't have anyone asking for stupid van passes.

This looks a lot different than it did at 7 this morning!

I'll miss you New River Gorge!

We did have some fun times with guys who bought from us the day before, coming back to write down their jump times for their raw footage. Lots of flirting going on. :) Then we had some random drunk Polish guys who were kind of bat sh*t crazy and slightly annoying. One guy had a picture of a naked baby on the back of his badge. He claims it was him when he was a baby, but who freakin' does that? And he kept asking if it was sexy. I guess it's a cultural barrier and he didn't think anything of it, but I told him that's it's not normal to think babies are sexy. It was made worse by the fact that his current photo for the badge looked like a prison photo of a pedophile. And he wouldn't shut up or leave. It probably didn't help that I was egging on his craziness. Hey, it was late, and I needed entertainment.

And entertainment we got in the form of an irate drunken a-hole. Who was not mad at us at all, but he wouldn't listen to me when I told him we weren't the people he was looking for. Apparently, his wife jumped and broke her leg (which I don't think was even true b/c we didn't hear about a woman breaking her leg), and she wanted her $80 t-shirt. I'm guessing that she was a late registrant and she didn't get the free t-shirt that was being handed out. I proceeded to calmly tell him that we weren't in charge of that and all we did was sell the DVD. He proceeded to get pissy with me and say "I don't want to sell anything, I want my G-D $80 t-shirt." The attitude, buddy? Not helping your situation. I then became more firm and said "Sir, if you would listen to me, we don't have anything to do with that. Jason Bell is the one you want." "Oh, I know Jason, it's his wife Jennifer I want to talk to." (You should know that at this point, the people in charge, Jason and Jennifer, were holding the post-jumping briefing in the building next door, handing out awards. Because of the tight space, they were broadcasting it live into our building for the overflow. And the TV monitor was RIGHT BEHIND ME. Where Jennifer was currently in view.) I told him that they were in the meeting next door and he could talk to her when it was over. I pointed to the screen indicating that she was next door. She even happened to be the one with the mike at the time. "I need to speak to Jennifer. Where are you hiding her?" was his response. I was pretty irate myself at this point. We went back and forth for a solid minute or two with me trying to explain that the Jennifer on the screen was in fact live and right next door followed by him thinking I was hiding her in my back pocket. He finally decided to leave and saw the screen and said "Is that live? Next door?" and then he walked out. I'm not entirely sure how I stayed seated without plowing my fist into his jaw. Probably because I've never punched another person in my life, but that's not the point. I sure as hell wanted to.

The evening wore down and all the fun people I had met over the last 48 hours came up to give me hugs goodbye. Wow, I barely know these people, and I'm sad to be saying goodbye. It's such a tight knit group of people and I'm so happy I was able to be a small part of it. We all headed back to the cabin hit the hay and prepared for our long drive home the next day.

Our final goodbye to Adam. What a cutie!

One tuckered out group of peeps. L to R: Me, Meredith, Ben, Mark & Alex (both camera guys).

We made it back to Indy in great time and I decided to make the trek back to StL following it. It was a long day in the car, but I had the next day off, so who cares?!

Thanks again to Ben and Meredith for letting me be a part of the fun and Mere for going on the highline. It wasn't an adrenaline rush, but it was still worth it! Now Meredith wants to do the rappelling next year. Uhhhh, that requires training and certifications. I'm not sure I want to go through all of that. But, she's pretty persuasive, so we'll see what happens!