I am afraid of heights, not just being in extremely HIGH places, but even looking out a window from the second floor of a building. It's ridiculous, I know. My palms get all sweaty, and I refuse to let anyone near me, let alone touch me! So why am I telling you this? Because on Saturday I went snowmobiling for the first time. Dustin and his family are snowmobilers, so it was an adventure. I was educated on snowmobile etiquette when passing other snowmobiles, and how to stop the machine and things of this nature. After being filled in on how this whole thing works we took off. Well somewhere probably 30 minutes into the ride we stop by this small mountain. Trent, my father-in-law, tells me that it is totally worth it to go up this "hill" to see the view. I laugh to myself, thinking there is no way I will survive. I am imaging how when I get to the steepest point that the machine will flip over backwards and I will free fall to my death (the mountain wasn't really steep enough for that to happen, but I have a great imagination)
The view from the top was absolutely beautiful and definitely worth the panic that I was feeling. I actually found that going uphill was no big deal for me. But what goes up must come down. I rode down every hill with my had permanently on the break, and thought more than once that this would be the end of me. But alas, I survived, all is well. I am really glad that I went, we got to see the trees covered in 8-9 inches of snow, something that rarely happens (or so I'm told). The mountains are an incredible sight in the winter! But of course, no one had a camera, so we have no pictures.
I am glad that I have people (dustin) that push me to get out of my comfort zone, and help me realize that going down a mountain on a snowmobile will not kill me. (Think of all that I would miss out on.) It will just make me really nervous, and give me sweaty palms.