High Falls

I don’t like heights.

Sorry, you’re never supposed to start on a negative. What I meant to say was, I greatly appreciate being closer to the ground whenever possible. The ground is my friend, it assures me that the furthest I can fall is about 5’ 8”. For those calculating this out in their heads, I’m a solid 68 inches tall, slightly below the average male height in the US. Not my favorite stat to cite.

I like the ground, except when it is approaching rapidly. This only happens if, by some chance, you were to fall from a height. Then the ground becomes the inevitable destination. That will lead to pain, possibly lots of it. In these scenarios, the ground is no longer my friend. It is the foe I must encounter due to unforeseen circumstances. Full circle and back to the negative.

One must be at a place of elevation in order for the circumstances above to commence. That being said, there is a walking bridge next to my office that crosses over the mighty Genesee River. It also has an amazing view of the roaring High Falls in downtown Rochester, NY. And for the thirstier of us, there is a brewery at the end of the bridge full of beverages one might consume. Consume above a certain age, of course.

This bridge is high up. 

Due to its requirement to go over the Genesee River, the bridge is actually a considerable distance from the ground at times. This is unacceptable. I’m not suggesting that the bridge become a massive “U” shape to accommodate the shape of the gorge. But it couldn’t hurt. 

Stepping out onto this marvel of engineering gives me the heebie-jeebies. The logical side of my brain tells me it's probably fine, look at all the other people walking on this everyday without a care! The overly logical side of my brain says that every footstep someone takes on this structure is reducing the structural capacity and ultimately could lead to failure. While this may be true, it is equally likely that an alligator will crawl its way up the 10 flights of stairs to my office and spit out its bubblegum on my carpet. Either way, I don’t want to be on the bridge when that happens. Bubblegum is really hard to get out of carpets.

Of course the people who built this thing were professionals. They did math I don’t understand in an effort to mitigate any risk of the structure’s failure for its intended use. People are intended to walk on it. It is, in theory, a safe passage from one side to the other. With my luck, my first time crossing would result in an old man in gray pajamas yelling, “You shall not pass!” and I stand watching the concrete turn to mush below my feet. I hate fighting demons while plummeting to the center of the earth. 

Needless to say, I have not completely walked across the bridge yet. I’m afraid to. Awkward, as the best views of High Falls are right in the middle of said bridge. Or so I’m told. And as a photographer, it is my duty, nay, obligation to capture such beauty to share with the world (or hoard to myself which is far more accurate). It is a nice bridge, it is wide with very tall and rigged guardrails on both sides. It does not sway or move while traversing. For all intents and purposes it is safe.

Try telling my brain that.

In an effort to overcome my disliking of heights, I decided to venture out onto the bridge. As a safety net and means of distracting my overly active brain cells, I brought with me my most prized possession; my camera. I will take photos and these will serve as proof of my bravery. Bravery to do what everyone else was doing without giving a single thought to the implications. So brave.

But in all seriousness, this is very difficult for me. And the best way I’ve found in making this less difficult is to try. The more I try, the more I do. The more I do, the more comfortable I become. The more comfortable I become, the more progress I see. The more progress I see, the more encouraged I am. Encouragement leads to motivation to continue. A positive spiral to combat the struggles of fear.

So I did just that. I walked out onto the bridge with my camera in hand, appearing about as sketchy as I could. A man, backwards hat, sunglasses, giant camera, hesitantly walking back and forth at the entry of the bridge fidgeting and randomly taking pictures. I didn’t think I was that intimidating as to provoke others to speed up as they walked by. But upon writing this out, it is clear to me that the haste of their walking pace wasn’t out of intimidation, it was out of concern. Concern that random man with camera was up to no good.

I didn’t make it far.

A gust of wind here, a glance down to the river there. Anything that reminded me of where I was would push me to go back to what my brain deemed to be safe. But I made it further than before. I also spent more time on the bridge than previous outings. I am making progress. And one day I will make it all the way across and celebrate by partaking in one of those adult beverages on the other side. Then the trick will be getting back to the office …

Here is my photographic evidence of my most recent excursion.

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