Chelsea, my younger sister, taking the leap.
(QUEENSLAND, AUSTRALIA) - It’s easier to say you’re going to jump when you’re not actually standing on the cliff.
At least that’s what I found as I stood on top a cliff in the middle of the Paluma rainforest, staring down at the clear swimming hole 40 feet below me, the last of the group to jump. Along on this Sunday adventure were my two sisters, Micayla and Chelsea, as well as Destini and Isaiah, our friends from the missions base we had been staying at.
We drove an hour to get to this spot, after originally missing the entrance to the trail….more than a few times. Destini and Isaiah, our semi-local North American friends, were the only ones out the five of us that knew how to get to the trail, so my sisters and I were really just along for the journey.
The winter July sun kept us warm for the day – tropical Aussie winters are pretty mild, compared to the negative winter temperatures I’m used to back home in the Southwest US. We were hanging out in the upper 20s (about 80 F), and eventually got to Crystal Creek by early afternoon. After crossing the small river upstream, we made it down to the jump.
And I mean, it was a jump.
The giant rocks jetted out from the mountainside to form a stair-shaped cliff of sorts, perfect perches for any daredevil crazy enough to jump down to the swimming hole. If you’re a true wild hog, you went to the very top, a good fifty feet up. That jump not only requires guts, but an extra leap – you have to jump extra far out into the open to avoid the next level of rocks fifteen feet below.
In true brave heart fashion, Isaiah and Destini were the first to take the lower leap, landing nicely into the pool below. Chelsea, who turned 18 that day, jumped next, then Micayla, 22 at the time, finished the round of comrades.
Then it was my turn. I mustered up all the courage in me (seriously, I hate heights and free fall more than most things in life), and walked over to the lower perch. Great leaps take great courage….or something like that. I told myself to just go for it, so off I went – 40 ft down, eventually landing ungracefully into the swimming hole below. Water rushed over me, and after a few strokes, I resurfaced to my own triumph and the applause of my friends.
It was a big moment for me.
I’m not joking when I say I’m a wimpy baby, in fact, that’s probably generous when it comes to my normal response to heights or jumps or free fall. Most often, I avoid the situation altogether. Wimpy baby badge, less-than-proudly adorned, but worn nonetheless. Until moments like this.
Beside any entertainment factor of this post, I hope it imparts some lesson you can take to your next leap. It’s a lot easier to say you’re going to jump before you actually get there, but when you get there go for it. Be wise, but be brave. You never know how small moments of courage (even cliff jumping in the middle of North Queensland) will affect your character and courage later down the road.