1981 Rolling Down 200 Foot Cliff At Night
Just another life or death situation I put myself into...Issue #65
ifOnlyi…wasn’t stupidly sitting on the very edge of the cliff with feet hanging over and had less to drink, maybe I would’ve had a memorable outcome.
It’s another life-and-death story closer to “ Death” than life. It all happened on a date when I lived in Palos Verdes, California. (PV)
I was invited to Stacy’s 21st birthday party. We both attended Palos Verdes High School together and graduated in 1978. In fact, if you recall, I went to my Senior Prom with Stacy.
We were very close neighbors, so getting an invite was nice. Her family lived in the most fantastic home on the cliffs of PV. It was a packed-out night. I brought one of the Varsity Football players from My College with me. We were great friends. I had protection as he was 6’6”. All he did was eat and work out; I think he did 6 hours a day on strength training alone, football practices, studies, and 4 or 5 meals daily. Plus, he was a Straight “A” student.
So this was a real treat, as he said, for him to be gone an entire day away from school.
The evening was fantastic. We met many new people and reconnected with some old high school friends from three years ago.
I met a gorgeous girl, Charlene, at the party, and we hit it off right away. We danced, laughed, drank, and, oh yeah, lots of that went on. My pal drank almost nothing. He was such a stickler for football training that he didn’t step outside of those guidelines. Well, maybe just a little, but rarely.
Charlene, with whom I had spent most of the evening, wanted to go for a walk outside on the street, and so off we went, talking, walking, and drinking. It wasn’t a busy street; it was also dark, and if the Police drove by, we would tilt our drinks out anyway. I was just under 21; she was already 21. Going to USC.
We decided to walk to the cliffs and sit and watch the SUBMARINE races
If you have kids under 17, please close their eyes and don’t read aloud. We started kissing, and oh yeah, it was going very well. She liked me, too; I could tell by her passion for kisses.
It got hot, and it got heavy very quickly indeed. It was pitch black outside, only the moonlight covered with cloud dust, which made it even darker. One piece of clothing after another kept coming off piece by piece. If it were cold, neither of us would feel it at all.
I was on my back, and she was lying on top of me as we were going at it with passion, and I decided it was time to roll her over and swap positions. I was doing my best not to lose momentum as we both were in the grove; it was time to make the move.
I slowly lifted up, keeping the connection as close as possible, and rolled to the outside, away from the street. We were on the edge of the cliff, and all of a sudden, I began screaming. I was sliding down the top of a 200-foot cliff, wearing nothing but socks.
Socks, nothing more. My feet were pulling me faster and faster down the cliff, and I was trying to grab anything I could to stop this madness. I was about to plunge 200 feet unless I could find a way to prevent myself right THEN!
I Tried my best to dig my foot into the cliff to stop myself, as I was grabbing any branch, any weed, any rock as I kept falling. My head kept bopping off the cliff, and I hit something that didn’t agree with me. By now, I felt one sock had come off, and I knew I was cut, but where and how much, I had zero idea.
“HELP, HELP!” I kept hoping to grab one branch strong enough to hold on to, anything that would not pull out, and suddenly, snap. It stopped. No, I stopped. Now what?
My Prayers were answered, but where was I? How far had I slipped down? Where was my other sock? Feck the sock. I needed to figure out how to get back up to the top without making a sound or a move that might dislocate the branch.
I was feeling a lot of pain, but I had to put that behind me, dig in, and climb back up. With my left foot in some hole or a rock holding me, I was petrified to let go of my new best friend, the branch. I LOVE YOU, TREE TRUNK.
I could see the very top of the cliff—it might be only 40 feet up. I kept thinking, "I can do this." But where could I use another branch or something else to pull myself back up? Then I heard my girl yell down. “There is a small tree over to your right side.” I could see it, but not as well as she could.
I had to take a leap of faith and grab what I believed was a tree branch, but it was better than a branch. It turned out it was a deep-rooted tree. As I started pulling myself up, I began finding places to put my feet on the cliff to hold me as solid as possible; it worked so far. That was perfect. I got a significant gift from the tree. I couldn't let go now, then my girl had an Idea about her blue jeans.
Blue Jeans, what do you mean? She said, "I can hold a leg, and you can use the other to help pull yourself up." That's a fantastic idea, but why not use mine? I’m taller, and maybe I can reach without leaving this beautiful tree.” I was definitely falling in Love with the tree.
When the Jeans dropped, I could grab the one hanging leg. I asked if she could hold on to the other leg without it slipping through her hands. I wasn’t so worried about it ripping as I was about it slipping through her hands. I had been looking, trying to find a place to put my foot higher and use my leg strength to lift me as she pulled the Jeans up.
I decided to take one leg and step on top of the tree to get closer to the top and hopefully steady myself as I lifted myself up as she pulled as hard on the jeans. I was moving, and I was going up quicker than I thought when I got my other foot planted on top of a sharp rock, but even though it hurt, I hung in there,
Holding me, I was getting closer to the top of this nightmare, and all I needed was another six or so feet - pull, please; it wasn’t so easy anymore. She was tired, and as sore as I was everywhere, I had the idea of using my fingertips and feet to finish the last bit. I still held one leg from my jeans, one hand to pull, and two feet to lift. The top was not as severe as below me. It was angled, so I used my sides to support me.
I wouldn’t let go of that one leg for anything. Total fear was running through my veins. I kept saying, “I am almost to the top. Hold those jeans tight, please.” Thankfully, she was strong and never let go, and I reached the top
We did It in more ways than one.
The whole ordeal was now over. I was back on top, top of the cliff that was. Stop! I was bloody, sore, and missing a sock, that’s all. When I got dressed, there were a lot of Nettles, Thistles, and Burr's on my sock, in my hair, legs, and head. That was a memory I wanted to forget.
Well, I can say this: as I walked her back to the party, we promised each other we wouldn’t tell anyone about the entire event or ever mention it again. Then, it was time to say goodbye, and I went home to care for my wounds and wounded pride.
I can promise you all this: I have never gone to the edge of cliffs again with the thought of watching Submarine races. Terrifying scares and experiences like that are difficult to erase from one’s memory.
#…ifOnlyi… short stories are published chronologically and follow my life growing up in California from 4 years old. If you’ve just found me, the stories will come together when you start reading from...Issue #1
Sometimes I wonder how you have managed to survive to tell all your stories.
While I am sure it was harrowing to experience, that story was freaking hilarious!