Shoulders of Giants

There is a simple joy in cycling. It reminds me of a time, not long since passed. A time of lazy days, quiet villages and empty roads. So, as I cycled the ten miles out into the countryside, I felt conflicted. You see, every overhanging tree and chirping songbird was ruined by spluttering exhausts and noxious fumes. The horses and carts have given way to horsepower and burning rubber. Despite the journey's mixed signals - of gorgeous flowers and choking exhaust vapours, I reached my friend's home feeling upbeat.

The reason for my excursion? An adventure.

I was to stay the night at my friend's home. In the morning we would meet with others and head across the county border to explore Brimham Rocks - an area full of unique and precarious rock formations. And this, dear reader, is what we did.

Now, Brimham Rocks is unique. Awe inspiring and interesting. It is a place of history and heritage, a landmark of sorts. Having said that, boys will be boys - and boys like to climb big rocks. Hence, the day was spent climbing, negotiating, and jumping between the site's formations. I was also reminded of an obscure fear, a compulsion of mine. And I was reminded whilst atop a 40ft high rock. Don't fret, it's not a fear of heights - it is much worse.

I fear to be on top of tall structures, because I feel a compulsion to throw myself off.

It's a peculiar feeling. To look over the edge, straight down 40 feet and think to yourself "What if I were to jump?" As much as I try to rationalise my thoughts, it is still there - the voice in the back of my mind. "Go on Sam, we've never jumped off something so high before, let's see what will happen." I know what would happen, but I have to climb down. I have to climb back down because the longer I am up there, the greater the compulsion to throw both caution, and myself, to the wind. I am sure there are others in a similar boat. Others who occasionally hear a mischievous voice whispering in their ear, convincing them to go against sensibility and rationality. While you want to silence it, this voice howls and wails until the opportunity it saw has passed. So I climb down, and let the opportunity for a spectacular and ill-equipped skydive pass.

If there's a take-home message, or pearl of wisdom in my brief  adventure, it is the sense of achievement. In a world increasingly occupied by video games, and convenient living, a sense of achievement is easy to come by. What I rediscovered, while choosing to conquer 40 feet of shapeless sediment, was this -

Aim high, and achieve for yourself. While anyone can 'stand on the shoulders of giants', it is a greater feat to climb up there in the first place.

Image Owner: Stephanie (Violet Danger)