I’ve always been afraid of heights. I don’t think I got it from either of my parents. But in my forties, it has become much worse.
In my twenties, when I was an exchange student at the University of Sussex in southern England, I climbed up to the top of St. Paul’s Cathedral. The stairs up to the dome are enclosed in a wire cage. I don’t think I would be able to do that today.
So it was quite an achievement for me to get up all 60 or so steps of the Port Isabel lighthouse. Doesn’t look too scary in this view from the other Port Isabel museums, does it?
How about this one, from a little closer? Here’s where it got really scary for me. I stood on the third step and stared up at Todd for a while. He was very encouraging. With his help I managed to climb all the way to the top, where I confronted a three-year-old who was completely fearless. Of course. And then after I came down, my legs hurt for three days because I had been clenching my muscles so much. I had many adventures in South Padre Island, but this one will stick with me.