I barely had room for my backpack when I went to Vernal this week, so no stargazing was done. However, it will be clear this coming week, and I will have room. There was an article in the news about Saturn’s opposition on August 27th. So for several weeks on either side of that date, it will be close to the earth and tilted at an ideal angle for viewing the rings. My replacement stargazing binoculars also came yesterday, so I can bring both sets and try to host a small star party. This was one of the original intentions of getting the telescope in the first place. Part of this new role is connecting with people personally, which was initially intimidating. Especially with hunting and fishing being such a big part of the culture, but outside my expertise. I needed to find my way to do it, and this seemed like the way. We will see if it works.
On Monday, I will go inside the Flaming Gorge Dam, which reminds me of my ill-fated Boy Scout cliff-jumping adventure. Everyone thought it was about fifty feet tall, and all the older boys jumped off, but all the other younger boys didn’t want to do it. We’d been jumping off smaller cliffs for a few days already, so I felt like I could handle the big one and win my place in the pantheon of bravery. At that age, I lived in the shadow of my star-athlete older brother and always sought peer approval. This was a very tall order for a half-blind teenager who stayed after school to play Dungeons & Dragons and carved swords out of wood in the backyard. He approached my parents at one point, concerned that I had a copy of the Satanic Bible and Viking runes under my bed. “It’s just a phase,” they told him, which was true. … sort of.
Since I’d never jumped from a cliff that high before, I didn’t know the proper way to do it. One boy from another troop at the top told me to grab hold of my life jacket and jump. I didn’t realize he meant to hold your life jacket in your hand and jump. A light breeze carried shouts from below, “jump, jump!”. The water was impossibly far, so I jumped before I had more time to think about it and chicken out. Writing this now, I realize that my current nervousness around cliffs is likely due to what happened next. I was only in the air for a few seconds, but it felt long enough to play a game of solitaire. When I hit the water, momentum and gravity wanted to pull my legs into the depths, but the lifejacket kept my torso at the top. I felt something pop in my back, and I couldn’t move. Dave was sitting in a canoe nearby, and I’d never seen anyone jump in the water so fast. Using the proper rescue techniques we’d all learned in our First Aid Merit Badge training, he extracted me from the water, and I was brought to a nearby Army medical tent. I’m not sure why it was there or what was happening, but I’m glad it was. The doctor cut off my favorite BYU shirt, and after some prodding and watching me wiggle my toes, he said I’d probably just severely pulled muscles in my back.
I don’t remember going to the doctor after we got home, but I’m sure I did since the note I received was used with great relish in subsequent years to get out of participating in Jr. High Wrestling. It is also a likely contributor to my back troubles in recent years.
A bearded gentleman just came by to pick up the damaged truck cover we’ve been storing in the garage, so now it’s time to ride bikes in the park.
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