1961 – Watch Your Step

Okay, well the first time I can really remember almost getting killed, I was about 7 years old (and so am estimating 1961). My family went on a weekend trip from Chicago to Wisconsin Dells, a church camp I think… It was just wonderful.

The Wisconsin Dells are a magical result of the last ice age, with beautiful towering sandstone cliffs all along the Wisconsin River in southern Wisconsin.

Other things I remember from that trip: Catching my first fish! ( and eating it! the camp dining hall prepared it for my dinner, I was SO proud as I was the only person to be getting a special meal and attention from the waiters and other diners! I caught it (probably a 6″ bluegill), when 2 power boats had just passed in opposite directions. So try explaining that one, fishing gurus… (for many years I had the spine of that fish saved in a saltine cracker cellophane.)

…and falling in love with guitar music … some cool teen age boys played an acoustic guitar at the Churchy sing-a-long part of the evening and they played “Wild Thing”! (by the Trogs??) I was SO impressed, and hooked. Later I did learn to play guitar and still do.

OH!, and watching the Indian show where a dog jumped between two towers of rock at night in a spotlight. (see postcard photo)

OH! and riding the Army “ducks!” (see photo) amphibious vehicles on land then into and down the river. (future combat engineer??) 🙂

 

Okay the story.

My whole family (Mom, Dad, myself and 3 sisters, were hiking slowly along the path that ran along the cliffs, along the river. I was the oldest and in the lead… Far in the lead… way ahead… I was Running and cornering FAST along the curving and undulating trail darting around trees and through rock outcrops… It was so cool. I was hauling ass. As I rounded another corner I slipped/tripped on a tree root and flew a few feet through the air, hit the trail at pretty high speed and started sliding on my belly on the sandy stone.  I quickly skidded to a stop with my head and shoulders, arms and chest well out over the edge of a 50 foot cliff looking straight down to the river…  I reached back with my hands to touch the cliff edge and scootched myself back on board the cliff of life. I stood up, silently transfixed by what had just happened.

I was still standing there looking down when my family caught up.  I didn’t tell them what had just happened.  I just walked WITH the group for the rest of that hike.  I don’t know why I did not tell, but probably felt they would be upset… and they had a  lot on their hands with the 3 little girls.

CLOSE ONE!

Lesson Learned: Do not run at full speed cornering on the top of sandy cliffs unless someone is shooting at you.

Oh well that was the first time 🙂

Mike Hines – Emperor of the Internet

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