Stuck on a cliff ledge

We had a gravel pit near our house. Maybe that’s why dad was able to afford the property. Only a vacant field and gravel trail separated our property from the gravel pit.

The pit had since been abandoned. There was a oil slick pond, parts of rusty broken tanks and tires, some of which we rolled down there.

To get into the pit you had to go down to the main road because the pit was actually carved out of a hill. Our house was on the upper part where the cliff was.

Somehow there was a natural ledge that went along the highest part of the cliff. It was where the dirt stopped and the gravel started. Somehow the dirt eroded leaving what looked like a very nice pathway along the side. So I thought.

I was only about six and a half years old. Full of energy, not afraid of heights and had no issues about bringing my younger brother along on my dangerous adventures.

One of the problems with this so called trail was that it didn’t actually go anywhere. The path narrowed down until it disappear into the cliff. That didn’t seem to stop me from going down it. With my brother trailing behind.

Going along that path was easy. It was fun to kick some of the rocks off the ledge and watch them make big splashes into the pond as they rolled in.

At one point the path was too narrow to go any further. I discovered that I was in such a position that I couldn’t turn around either. In fact having kicked some of the rocks off of the cliff path made it even more narrow at certain points.

My brother was smart or scared enough not to go as far as I did. He went back and apparently went home to tell on me.

I was stuck. It wasn’t so fun anymore and I realised that I couldn’t see to walk backwards and I couldn’t turn around either.

As much as I feared my mother’s voice, it was a great relief to hear her scream at me. I wasn’t alone anymore. The fear of falling seemed far greater than the fear of getting it from mom.

She went and called the fire department and they came and somehow got me off of that cliff edge. I imagine I wasn’t so far down the cliff side and a fireman came down by safety lines connected to a winch and hoisted me up. I got told off by mom and the fireman and was reminded that I could have fallen and got hurt. They didn’t say die, but that is probably what would have happened.

That was a big lesson for me. I must have had many dreams about falling since that day. I’m not afraid of heights, but the idea of feeling the earth give away and falling is part of my soul now.

The same gravel pit was turned into a housing complex. Such a shame. They are the only made made geological innovations that can be a lot of fun. There were quite a few around our area. I visited them all. They always had tires and swampy ponds with frogs.