Four years, Ten months.
I hung it up nearly five years ago, after a fellow jumper, in our crew went in. Not a goddam day goes by that I don't think about jumping - walking into the supermarket or home depot, I'll see my # on price tags. Driving down the road, I'll see it in license plates... I use my # to mark my hand tools.
I've found similar delight in other activities. Strangely enough, fishing is very similar to base jumping... A shit-ton of preparation, for a small burst of excitement. Kite skiing has been the next best thing to jumping, I still get to "fly" something and if you're not careful, it could really mess you up.
It's been a long time since I've been on the edge of something and not been attached in some way or another.
It's been a long time since I've felt the juice...
It's been far too long since I've felt anything close to a calling in life.
But damn it all if I don't get to feel it this week.
Idaho or bust - 2009.
-base 644