Richard W. Price

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The Top of the World

The view from The Top Of The World is awe-inspiring.

And terrifying.

You get there by chairlift, traveling over terrain that, in the winter, is blanketed with soft and forgiving snow and covered with hordes of skiers. In the summer, the snow melts, exposing the rocky surface of the mountain, and the skiers give way to mountain bikers.

I'm in Whistler Mountain Bike Park in British Columbia.

We're standing at the top of the highest point in the park, looking down at a two-foot-wide path snaking down the side of the biggest mountain I've ever seen.

It's 20 degrees colder up here, the wind is whipping, and I'm thinking back to a backpacking trip decades ago where I was caught in a storm that nearly blew me off the ridge I was walking.

Looking further down the trail, I am questioning myself.

Is this crazy?

Can I do this?

We paused near the trailhead to take pictures. As we take turns with the camera, we talk about what a great day it's been and how excellent the trails are.

And they really are - Whistler is a mountain biker's dream.

But I'm already nervous as hell, and then I hear one of the other guys mutter something under his breath.

"Fuck that," he says, louder this time, "no way I'm riding that. See you guys back at the bottom."

Just like that, he's gone, and his absence does not steady my nerves.

Now I'm on my bike.

My heart is racing.

Fear replaces my anxiety.

I cannot will myself to push off, and I'm considering following my friend's footsteps and taking a second trip in the gondola.

But I will not.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime trip for me, and it's unlikely that I will ever stand here again.

With a deep breath and slow exhale, I push off for the ride of my life.

I'd like that I shredded my way straight to the bottom, catching massive air at every jump and slinging dirt at every berm.

The truth is, I held on for dear life, absolutely terrified for most of the ride.

But it was wicked fun.

Fun that I nearly didn't experience because I was afraid.

I was "this close" to bailing.

This picture pops up every year around this time in my Facebook memories.

It's always a good reminder.

If I hadn't gone down Top Of The World, I would regret it today, and the memory would be soured.

So I'm reminded that fear is powerful.

But it's temporary.

Whereas the pain of knowing you didn't even try lasts forever.