The daredevil in me wants to make that jump, the bungee jump experience I am so looking forward to do soon, but I think I have not seen yet any amenities in the country pooling for this kind of extreme adventure. What we got is the ever getting overrated zipline activity or that treetop thing.
What comes up in my mind is the memory of heights, wind brushing on your face and that tingling sensation at your feet. I am never afraid of heights that is because vividly remembering during my childhood years, with my older brother Noy would play GI Joes and McGuyver like stance on our rooftop. We hike our bedroom windows just to get through to the roof of our grandpa’s house then higher up to the extended house where we stay. The playtime usually starts late in the afternoon when the sun is not beaming hot anymore or when our tin roof is lukewarm enough to step on. We gear up to our school knapsacks to recreate radio and stuff to put that extra guns and ammo. Tin cans with strings attached to it served our improvised walkie-talkie and we have that binoculars too, used for spotting the perimeter. The highest point of the roof would give us the view of the local mountain range and even spot at a distance when not cloudy the tip of the most favored perfect cone volcano in the world. What an endearing sight to behold. Toy guns such as armalite rifle and .45 caliber pistol are what make the GI Joe and McGuyver experience a rock on. Days of computer games isn’t our thing of the past, it is manually done and strategically planned.
Going back to that jump, I actually thought of bungee jumping on that highest point of the rooftop but I could not imagine how will I set it up then, the extreme thing that I did is to just stand there, spread my hands and feel the wind brushing against my face, chest and torso. Then at that point I felt the first time the tingling sensation at my feet. You cannot really explain what kind of feeling traversing through your body’s veins. The adrenaline, nervousness and calmness just soothed me. Older brother would even struck me at the back, teasing me to fall off to the edge. Such a wreck feeling of fear would frantically creep along my spine and make my knees really jilted and I would fall from my stance and breathe heavily. I pick up myself to brush him off but he will go down fast as he can.
I cannot go to that spot anymore, our roof is spare from that little intruders for a long time now. Mom says it is full of crap from neighbor’s overshooting growth of brick ivy and betel palm trees. I miss the view on that spot. Would I still long to make that jump? Crazy mind, isn’t it? Harness and safety gears maybe should be pulled in towards the reality of that longed experience of mine.
The jump. Okay let us make that in plural. The jumps. At this stance I am at now, I think I have made a hundred jumps metaphorically. Still making more towards reaching that great bungee jump. Maybe I could go to Australia or New Zealand to experience the highest adventure. That is the jump I would really endure, the wind rush and the tingling sensation at my feet.
You make the jump. You just have to whenever you are ready, right?