Testing

       If I think back to my first memory of reckless moments, I picture a girl, 10, maybe 11, climbing a mountain behind her home for hours. Focused, and always determined to accomplish what she set out to do.
      
        She'd climb a mountain for 3 hours, just so she could sit at the top perhaps thinking she was on top of the world, or maybe just basking in the light that can only be found from such heights. And then, with a mischievous smile, she would run as fast as she could down the steep mountain. Reckless, and without regard to possible injuries, she'd run, and hurdle rocks, bushes, sailing through the air hoping she could recover when her feet touched again. Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn't.

       Sometimes, she'd walk up to her home with her Mother standing on the steps with both hands on her hip, exasperated, and clucking like a worried Mother hen over various cuts and wounds, proclaiming, "If I look out and see my daughter tumbling down that mountain again, I'm going to whoop your ass worse then that mountain Becky!"

       Then, I remember a teenager, about 16 standing on the cliffs over one of the lakes not far from home. Gangs of teenagers hiding in the Mountains, doing things that would make their parents cringe and pray to any religion available. Cliff jumping they called it.
      
       Various points could be found to jump from, from almost safe heights to downright terrifying distances to the water. She hated the water, always did, but to stand on the cliff and will herself from the edge was an exhilaration and test of willpower that couldn't be denied. She liked knowing she was the only girl who would jump from the highest point that could be found. Mediocre was never a choice for her, if there was a breaking point, she'd test it.

       Standing on the edge, looking down to the water was always a test of the mind. We all knew with each jump, one wrong step would mean a broken something, or maybe even something worse, but we did it anyway. To be teen is to be invisible. But honestly, she was relieved when she finally broke a leg, it bought her a ticket out of doing what terrified her for the rest of the summer, while saving face.  She would take a broken leg any day over being called chicken.

       Being an adult provided new challenges. What can an adult get away with without being called crazy? She still ran mountains, but changed her tactics. During times when her mind raced and there was no escape, she drove to the Mountains late at night and climbed in the dark, and ran down in the dark. A new dimension to reckless abandonment. A perfect solution and when one questions certain cuts on arms, legs, face, telling the truth is easy. Hiking, fell, it's all good.

       Then, she discovered rock climbing. But hated the ropes that bind. Free climbing was risky and exhilarating. And only produced one broken ankle from a nasty fall against a rock she was told couldn't be done. They were right, but she tried anyway.

       While flyfishing, being terrified of water provided a challenge. To wade in, test the mind, test the fear is always it's own degree of difficulty. When flyfishing, there is always a spot just out of casting distance. Always a spot that if you can wade in one more foot you can get to it. A few death swirls being pulled down a raging river hasn't stopped her, only enforced an irrational determination to not let water beat her.

       Once while laying on the bank, on the wrong side of the swollen river after a particularly scary death swirl, she was stranded for hours waiting for something, help sounds like the legitimate something, but she searched for something else. Answers? Absolution? A miraculous moment of clarity? Realizing in one way or another, she had been in that situation more then once was enough to scare her. Mortality staring harshly in the face of a person who tempted it and defied it, is enough to splash perspective on any fearless human.

       And now, I still do not stay on any beaten path. My last injury? A nail through the foot after a run off the safe trail. Not even worth mentioning, I call that a boring injury. Safe trails drive me crazy. Something laid out before me dictates far to much control. A classic habit in my life, take the unknown, run down the unexplainable, jump over the impossible to see if I can do it.

       Once, one of my parents said to me, "If you make it to the age of 30 it will be a miracle," to which I replied, "I'll take that as a challenge." I made it, and I am a bit more cautious now. Being a Mother is sometimes like a soft chant behind my ear, whispering do the right thing, do the responsible thing, do the Motherly thing.

       My youngest daughter is attempting to talk me into letting her ride motocross. A dangerous sport anyway you look at it. Hence the inspiration for my thoughts here today...... Last year, I got her a 4 wheeler, thinking 4 wheels are better then 2. She rides it like she is Evil Kineval. Testing jumps to see how far she can fly through the air. 4-wheelers aren't exactly meant for such thing. She seems to love giving everyone around her heartattacks, except when she looks at me, I know she sees a sly smile and proud eyes. I stick up for her antics and we're good like that.

       I see so much of me in her. It's hard to stop what is inside, even when there is a slice of danger there. I understand her. There is a fine line I've tried to master between enforcing as a parent what I think is safe, and what my children see themselves as capable of trying. I know I stand in a strange spot when saying I've never feared my daughters getting physically hurt. When it's time for stitches and casts, we just march off to the hospital and take care of it.

       I've always believed a person must fall sometimes when trying things, and a bit of blood is nothing compared to saying to oneself inside, I did it. From the time they were little I never dove between them and falling down, or stopped them from hanging in a crazy position on the monkey bars. And just so we are clear, I would indeed jump in front of a car and let it hit me before they were hurt in such a manner. But when it comes to day to day, I've always held back and let them experience things as they will. 

       Conventional and I may not stand hand in hand, as I continue to test myself and my time on earth. I don't know if I'm exactly a thrill seeker, or an idiot. I'm happiest off the beaten path and I'm restless when I'm not putting myself to a challenge.

       I just may have to buy that 2 wheeled motorcycle and let her fulfill her dream of doing a backflip off a jump....................scary, even for me.