Leap of Faith

Kurt remembered the first time he’d made the journey to the quarry. It wasn’t far from his family’s property, but it also wasn’t accessible unless you knew how to get there. His discovery seemed surreal, and it was as if it was his discovery alone. Standing at the precipice of the cliff one day and gazing into the quarry, he felt a wave of fear overcome him. At the same time, he couldn’t help noticing that the view was something like he’d never seen. The water was clear and still – and the leaves on the surrounding trees were in full fall colors. The coolness of the air filled his lungs as he raised his arms in the air and closed his eyes. The vision was etched in his mind.

A few years later, Kurt found himself back at the quarry and journeying back to that same cliff, but the journey was slightly different that day. He gathered himself, brushed the leaves, dirt, and dried mud from his clothes, and raised to his feet. Several minutes passed before he fully realized where he was and what had happened.

He remembered that he was initially trekking toward the edge of the quarry, which was the place he would frequent to be alone, collect his thoughts, and wonder about the world – his “happy place.”

He walked for several minutes from where he had rested and came upon a small clearing, which is the same area he had previously marked with several dead branches arranged in a triangular pattern with several fist-sized rocks, one placed at each corner. The rocks were arranged in each corner of the triangle such that they touched both sides of triangle in the deepest part of the corner.

There were a handful of medium-sized trees within close proximity of the marker and there were several feet between the marker and the flat rock, which was the leading edge of the stone-faced wall that encompassed most of the quarry. The flat rock extended approximately ten feet further from the marker and had a slight tilt, falling away from the edge. He took his hands and brushed away the debris—mostly leaves that had recently fallen from the trees.

It was autumn and most of the trees retained their leaves, but had already changed color. There was a myriad of colors on display. The air was cooler than in recent history but was still tepid due to the sun. The sun was lower in the sky and the days were getting shorter and he realized time was getting shorter for visiting that place, because the snow would soon make the journey nearly impossible. Ultimately, it was far too dangerous to travel there in the winter, as he had learned the hard way last year when he slipped and fell into the trees. Had he slipped and fell in the other direction he surely would have ended up in the quarry, and likely dead.

After clearing the debris, he moved to the edge of the wall and dangled his legs over the edge. The wind had died down and the warmth of the stone began to penetrate his body. He felt at ease and remembered why he enjoyed his visits so much, but he pondered what lay across the quarry.

The effects of the drug remained constant, and he was caught in a moment of taking in the natural beauty of his surroundings and separating what was real from what was imagined. Time seemed to pass slowly. He began to contemplate the distance from the cliff edge to the water and he wondered how deep the water was. He was never much of a risk taker, but he couldn’t help being overcome with the desire to jump.

He estimated the cliff to be about thirty feet above the water. It seemed too risky to jump without knowing the depth of the water so, he trekked to the bottom, which took about fifteen minutes. He hoped to get an idea of the water depth and assess the jump from another perspective.

As he looked across the water and then up the cliff, he became comfortable with the imminent leap. The water appeared to be at least ten to fifteen feet deep, although it was hard to gage, but he assumed the water was likely deeper than it appeared. He knew the water would be cold, but he also felt he could handle it, at least until he could get to the shore.

 He trekked back to the top and stood looking down. The cliff went straight down and there appeared to be few rocks that had piled over time at the foot of the cliff. He knew he had to leap out far enough to avoid the rocks.

His confidence grew.

He stepped out three steps backward to make sure he had a good gage on his takeoff. The top of the cliff was plenty clear and offered an area for ten to fifteen steps, but he ultimately decided three steps was enough. Left, right, left, he kept repeating in his head. Left, right, left. His focus was on his left foot on the edge for his release point. The placement of his left foot was crucial. Any slip would’ve meant catastrophe, he was sure.

There would be no practice run.

He stood at the edge and took his three steps back, again. He took a deep breath, looked to the sky, and back to the cliff edge. Left, right, left, and leap, he repeated out loud. The wind was calm, and the moment seemed right. Left, right, left, and he leaped.

His left foot caught the edge of the cliff perfectly and his right leg lunged upward, as his left leg pushed his body forward and outward. His face pointed toward the sky briefly and then toward the water. With arms flailing as he approached the water, he pulled his legs together and pointed his feet toward the water. As his feet penetrated the water, his arms collapsed to his side, and he breathed in one last time.

Within a second, his feet had touched the bottom. The water was colder than he expected, but he kept his wits and continued to exhale through his nose. His feet entered the mud and it quickly rushed up and over his ankles. Clouds of mud began to fill his sight. He looked up and could barely see the rays of sun shining through the surface. He managed to pull his right leg free, which sent a plume of mud up past his head and toward the surface, further clouding his view of the sun rays.

As panic set in, he began to move his arms downward to create upward thrust, to free himself. After several seconds, his left foot broke free of the mud and he began to move toward the surface. His face broke the surface, and he inhaled as if he’d expired his last ounce of oxygen.

He quickly made his way to the edge of the water and to the spot he’d been standing while assessing the jump. By that time, the chill of the water had overcome him. Thankfully, the sun was shining and helped take the edge off. The chill quickly subsided, as he made his way back to the top of the cliff.

He’d never felt so exhilarated, and he was alive. He was alive.