I have never been a daredevil. I can, with all honesty say that if given the choice between doing something likely to push me out of my comfort zone in the danger department I am going to chose the lesser dangerous option pretty much every time.
I may even border the line of chicken shit when it comes to things like bungee jumping, diving or going ridiculously fast on any kind of moving apparatus.
It’s not that I don’t get that thrill, owning 4 Mustangs tells you something right? But even with that, it’s the take off part I like. I don’t like going consistently fast. I wanna go fast but only for a minute or two. Drag racing…I would totally be in. Short, fast and over.
Things like the Ferris Wheel actually just make me want to jump off and have a quick death so it is finally over with.
Flying in an airplane is just something that I have learned to deal with in the last year or so. Which means that I don’t cry in public, and possibly have occasional moments when I realize how amazing it is that I am in the air on a big piece of metal, going somewhere hopefully cool and not plummeting to my death at high speed. At least that is what I hope doesn’t happen most of the time we are in the air. I did say I deal with it…not like it.
This brings me to what is going on in my brain this week. I have been watching way too much stuff about the big one hitting us here on the coast. It is indeed bound to happen and is far overdue.
I tell myself that I am prepared for an Earthquake on every level. My family all think I am out of my mind. It’s not my fault they are in denial. I am having none of it.
The only kink in my plan is the fact that we live by a river. And a Dam. And the Dam is old and if there is a big one, it’s gonna disintegrate and we are fucked. We have a plan…The garden centre where I work is on high ground and my bosses have been gracious enough to agree to us all heading there for our safe place if the need arises.
There are a couple of problems with this scenario. Problem one is that if there is an earthquake like this story from the New Yorker predicts…we are gonna have to run there, because everything will be destroyed. Which creates problem two which is that my earthquake kits are awesome, oh yes they are…but I cannot carry them the two miles I am going to have to run to get there, which will most likely be fraught with obstacles and is up a hill.
And during said trek, I will be thinking not only about the dam breaking and how I am going to outrun that ordeal with the 2o minutes I will have to actually get out of the area before the water gets here, but also about the Tsunami that will be not too far behind. I don’t care what anyone thinks. There is going to be cause and effect from a 700 foot wave, we are by the ocean, shit is gonna move and water is gonna go high, way higher than most of our seaside town is situated…in the article I have linked to above, this sentence was the advice that made me go hmmm….
“When that tsunami is coming, you run,” Jay Wilson, the chair of the Oregon Seismic Safety Policy Advisory Commission (OSSPAC), says. “You protect yourself, you don’t turn around, you don’t go back to save anybody. You run for your life.”
Now if there has ever been advice that saves your life in an emergency…this is it. I know that in the actual situation wanting to save everyone would be my first instinct…but think about this clearly. Death.
And I can run. For the first time in my life, I know that I can actually run from here to the safety of my workplace. Add terror and panic, my time improves immensely. I just won’t have any supplies. They will be here. Or more likely floating down the Campbell River.
I honestly know, that none of these things are under my control. I know that if the big one happens, the panic and total shit storm that will follow, is gonna be what it is. Period. There is being prepared and then there is what is really gonna go down. Which is anyone’s guess.
The vision I have in my head of me running to save my own life after a huge earthquake with chaos everywhere and making it out alive…well it makes me feel like Danger girl. It makes me hope that the real me could pull off the vision I have of my bravery and common sense in a horrid situation.
Hopefully the chicken shit real me will be scared into action, and I actually will be able to pull any of this crap off in a real life scenario. If nothing else it will give me motivation when I run. It will give me a goal. Maybe make the daredevil in me come out a bit past my comfort zone.
And really, here is hoping that the big one holds off for another 100 or so years. There is as much chance of it not happening as there is of it actually happening. Right? Right…that’s my story. Sticking to it. But I am still as ready as I am ever gonna be :)
Are you living in the danger zone, and are you ready?