A View From 40 Feet Up

Despite the fact that I am a full grown man, I still find it necessary to omit certain details from my mother. My mother, like all mothers, is a worrier. My chosen profession does not help this fact. However, tonight when I told her this story (Having absolutely nothing to do with Law Enforcement, Guns, Ammunition, or Idiot Criminals) I still found myself omitting details.

Tonight, after Church, my mother asked me to give a package to a lady friend (Her and her Husband being lifelong friends of ours). While at church, I told this friend about this expected package. She told me that I would have to follow her home, due to the fact that she and her Husband rode the Harley to church. Their house is not that far from mine, so I agreed. Besides, I had not been to their house in quite a while and wanted to see what changes they had made to the 100 year old (roughly) house.

When I stepped into the living room, I immediately noted some badly needed structural changes and some pleasant cosmetic changes that had been made. As they were giving me the tour, I happened to look out one of the many side windows in the kitchen, and what should I see? An old rusty scissor lift truck (Boom lift, Bucket truck, or Cherry picker around here). I inquire as to why the thing is out there and how it came to be so.

The husband speaks up and tells me (while were heading outside to look at it) that he had looked into renting one in order do some repairs on the roof and chimney. Due to the fact that it would take several days for him to do the work by himself, and the rental fees being fairly high per day, he decided that he would look into buying one. He figured that he would find other reasons to have such a vehicle, so he promptly bought the truck I was looking at for a fairly good deal.

As we continue the discussion the wife comes out and hands him the keys to the truck. He cranks it up and gets in the bucket. He starts taking the bucket up to the maximum height. All the while relaying how smooth you have to be with it, what the maximum height is (40 ft), and what the range of motion is. Once he got to the top and started his way back down he started talking about his two sons (both my age and also lifelong friends) and how one managed to take it all the way to the maximum height. The other (being a Marine) only managed to get it 3/4 of the way to the top before he started to not like the ride (more like, how his father was standing ominously close to the ground controls for the lift).

At that time the little warning bell started going off in my head, He means for you to go up in that thing, the voice in my head said. I, having a small case of Acrophobia (vertigo or Fear of Heights) was starting to get a twinge in my spine. It did not look that high up from the ground, but from past experience, it would get a lot taller once I was up there.

Once he got the scissor lift back in the down position he hopped out of the bucket and said, "Why don't you give it a try?" I laugh and consider saying no, but stubborn male pride and young stupidity cries out for me to say yes.

I remembered such a moment a year and some months ago, while another friend and I were in Utah. More specifically in Zion National Park looking out over the trail leading to Angel's Landing. I said "yes" then with a much steeper drop than 40 ft. (More about this in the future)

I climbed into the bucket and received a quick tutorial about the controls and up I went. I am fairly certain that the snail climbing the tree beside me was going faster than I was letting the bucket rise. Every once in a while my bravery would get the best of me and the bucket would pick up speed. I would realize this and stop the bucket cold.

Bad Idea.

The bucket started swaying in all directions, only a few inches, but too much for me. I quickly realized that looking at the bottom of the bucket was a good focusing point whenever the bucket started swaying.

During the five minute climb there were a few disconcerting moments when the rusty machine would squall from the strain. I would yell down, "Is it supposed to do that?" and he would yell back, "What? That? I'm not sure what that was. But, I'm sure it's fine. Don't worry about it." Great.

However, when I got to the top and surveyed the surroundings (surroundings I had seen since I was a small boy) it was breath taking. Especially in the setting Sun light.

The trip down did not take quite as long and was quite thankful to be back on the ground where God made me to be. Once on the ground the Husband started relaying his plans for the little truck and lift. He asked if I wanted to help him with some of the projects. Having done it once, I believe I could do it again (but would not be at all comfortable), I said, "Sure. Anytime."

I am fairly certain that I will live to regret that.

Semper Fi Deus
Goose