I am at the edge of a sheer drop of about 80 feet (24m), looking at a garden of vegetation through which I hiked on my way to this point. Crawling was the only way I could get "close to the edge" (Yes, 1972).
The Colorado River is visible at far right.
My trusted photographic assistant, Joe Tripod, showed no sign of fear.
.
Still one of my favorites, Dave.
I didn't notice in your caption before that Fin Boy is afraid of heights.
That's a pretty incredible statement seeing where you like to hang out every chance you get.
Bravo. A man after my own heart. I probably wouldn't take the second photo for evidence though. You have a degree of humility I'd be proud to approximate.
Lee, you give me too much credit---a severe case of Capture-Edit-Post Syndrome forced me to endure this humbling experience.
Larry, I cannot reveal the number because the bright light of day overheated the light panel of my solar-powered abacus, rendering all calculations in base 43 (useless except in Putney).
