By Kerri Harlow

Our first stop was for breakfast in a town called Gracia. We were looking for the bungee jumping site and any reason to stall was good for me. Patrick was so gung-ho to bungee jump but I was still scared as hell, trying desperately to convince myself I was the little engine that could. What a way to start off the vacation. So as Patrick was eating rice and beans for breakfast, I declined because of the growing knot in my stomach from the thought of jumping.

Now, a little background-story is necessary here. A few weeks before we left, Patrick found the bungee jumping place in our tour book and said it was on the way to our first stop. So he was going to jump and "I could watch or stay in the car." He knew jumping wasn't my thing as I have a huge fear of falling. So I let it go and thought to myself, what if I did jump? But I didn't say anything because the second I said it out loud, I'd be held to it. A few days later he made the comment about jumping again, as we were going over our itinerary. He got a good lens for his camera and I could take pictures and then we would be on our way. It would be a quick stop. I said out loud, "What if I jump?" He said, "You wouldn't jump." And I said, "Yes I will." He didn't think so, but then said he'd have major respect for me if I actually did it, knowing that I have a fear of falling. But he wouldn't put money on me! He was joking, but it made me decide I was going to do it. My goal was to prove him wrong, that I was stronger than he thought, and that I could do it -- I could overcome my fear and jump. I just wanted him to be wrong so badly, so badly that I was willing to throw myself off of a bridge. I just waited to prove him wrong, and that desire was fueling me. I didn't want it to be his story, his jump. I wanted to be able to say I did it too. And I knew if I didn't I would regret it forever. But this was all before I saw the bridge!

So as we're sitting in this kind of walk-in, walk-up, make-shift, third world café-like place, my stomach isn't feeling so good. I'm looking for any reason out and I don't have one. Patrick finishes breakfast and we get pointed in the right direction and sure enough we find the signs. And then we find the site. A guy from OC Maryland is about to jump. He was a little younger than us, just graduated from Salisbury Sate in Maryland, and this was his last full day in Costa Rica. He was ending his month-long trip with the jump. And he's commenting on how sketchy the whole set up of the jump is. I think -- great, this is my out. The place isn't safe. But no, he gears up and jumps.

Patrick and I watched; it was so far down. He came up and said it was the greatest thing ever. So next is Patrick. He signs his life away and is set to go. He takes a deep breath and jumps off the side of the bridge headfirst, plummeting towards the rushing water below. The bungee cord snaps, pulls him back up, and he goes on bouncing like this for about 3 minutes. We estimated the freefall to be about 4 seconds. The rope is thrown down to him and he buckles it on, all while still hanging upside down. He attaches it to the harness and gets pulled up, screaming with excitement the whole way.

I'm next. I'm not excited. I can barely write my name and sign the release. I get the stuff on and my knees feel like they're going to buckle. And now there's a crowd of people there to watch. I get put up on the bridge, and I freeze. Looking down, I'm totally frozen. The idea is to dive out as far as you can, to be safe. Well, I ask the guy what happens if your legs don't carry you -- if I can't get them to push off like they're supposed to. He doesn't speak English. Everyone is at the side of the bridge 100 yards away or so; Patrick has the camera ready. With me is the guy from Maryland, who we told the "prove him wrong" story to, his friend, and the non-English speaking guy running the thing. They count me down but I don't jump. I can't get myself to go. And the longer I stand there, the less likely I am to jump. I found out later Patrick and the people were betting against me; they said I was up there too long, it was about 10 minutes.

I collect myself, stop looking down, and the guy from Maryland says, "Prove him wrong, you can do this," and then he said, "God won't let you fall." Now given that my belief in God is a little strained at the moment, it was nonetheless oddly comforting and I said ok, I'm ready. Count me down again. I gave Patrick the thumbs up from the bridge, and they stated 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and all I remember is screaming. The next thing I know I'm on the rebound, the first snap, and I'm falling all over again. I keep this up for a good three minutes, praying for it to be over and it feels like my feet are going to fall out. I'm hanging upside down waiting for it to be over and I can't even tell you how I got myself to jump. I don't remember doing it, taking the actual jump. I just remember coming back up and then falling again. But I knew I wrenched the hell out of my throat screaming. So finally it was over, Patrick was waiting with open arms and everyone asked how it was and I said "that was the worst @%*! thing I've ever done in my life and I'll never do it again!" They laughed. And of course, Patrick jumped again, this time backwards.

I have to admit though, it did pay off. I got to say I did it, I got to prove Patrick wrong, he was so proud of me, and I spent the rest of the trip with the satisfaction of "I did it, I actually did it." Never again, but once! And this was all within 2 hours of landing! The trip was off with a bang . . . stay tuned.