Some things are almost too good

Most of us have aspirations to see certain places and things in the world before we die, and we only hope if the place or thing actually manifests itself for us, that we will not be disappointed because it will turn out to be less than we had hoped for.

But, to balance such possible disappointments, there are also those situations in which the place or thing turns out to be as good or better than we had hoped it might be. Those are nice moments. I've had some of those. I've had visitations that turned out to be not only as good as I anticipated, but actually even better.

They include:

* The awe-inspiring Na Pali on the Island of Kauai.

* Vienna -- any aspect of Vienna.

* The Colosseum in Rome

* The tropical South Pacific.

* Michelangelo's 'David'.

Among others.

And now, I have just had another -- which is why I haven't been around for a few days. No internet connection where I was.

My other was this: Crater Lake in Southern Oregon.

For years, driving up Interstate 5 on a number of occasions I had thought, we really should take the dogleg up to Crater Lake since everybody says it is so incredible. But, you know, time was pressing, and it's a hell of a long way out of the way, so I never go around to it. But, this time we were determined. And, my word, but it was worth it. It is truly quite awe-inspiring. Yes, there are the superlatives, such as with an average depth of nearly 2,000 feet it is the deepest lake in the US and the sixth deepest in the world. It has a blue hue that is almost orgasmic (that is, if a blue hue can be orgasmic -- maybe it can. We all have our orgasmic things, after all), and it is located in a fabulous national park that boasts other wonders, such as the amazing canyon pictured above.

Anyway, it did take us a while to get there, We took some rather precipitous roads and the lake sits at a very high elevation. More about that later. Anyone reading this from, say, Denver can ignore my elevation comments. And get there we did. We were both quite enraptured by it all.

My only glitch was that I am acrophobic, as I have mentioned before. And, Crater Lake, since it is in a volcanic crater, lies below some amazingly terrifying precipices, all the way around. Needless to say, I didn't walk to the edge. If I got too close I got just a tad weak-kneed and sweaty. But, it didn't detract from my overall experience at all. I just didn't stand quite as close to the edge as non-acrophobic Wendy did.

Otherwise, our stay in the area was lovely. We stayed in the tiny, tiny town of Fort Klamath, just above the headwaters of Klamath Lake, in a lovely little resort on a pretty stream (as shown). That countryside around Fort Klamath is splendidly pastoral with huge cattle ranches. And it is dead flat. Idyllic, to be sure. But, Wendy and I both noticed that we felt chronically headachy and a bit queasy in the stomach. I mentioned this to the owner of the resort, and his response was simple: "It's the altitude," he said. How can that be?, I thought. We came down out of the hills around Crater Lake to this lovely flat land. He explained. The lovely flat land is a very long way from sea level (which I, in my ignorance, had assumed), but is actually a huge alpine meadow sitting atop a flat-top mountain. Our altitude was 4,100 feet. Aha! A touch of altitude sickness.

Anyway, we got over it, and all I can say is if you want a unique adventure, I will extoll the virtues of Crater Lake and the area.

Otherwise, happy to be connected again. I missed you people. And, I'll visit your individual blogs tomorrow.

Acrophobia -- isn't that a little country near Romania?

I am currently sitting at my computer in a suite on the fifth floor of an apartment block. This place is my ‘other’ home apart from our suburban bungalow that we love dearly. Work, however, takes my wife to another town, so we have a residence here, too. I spend as much time working from here as I can, mainly because I cherish her company and don’t savor time apart. It’s not a big deal, and this is a nice place to be. I look out the window and see vistas of an appealing, mid-sized city that is very popular, for good reason, with tourists.

Yeah, it’s great. Except for one thing: The apartment is on the damn fifth floor!

You see, I am acrophobic. I don’t like being acrophobic, but that is what I am. I’ve mentioned before that heights disconcert me, and I also mentioned in the past that going up in an airplane doesn’t distress me at all (other than the fact that God did not intend us to fly), but being a few feet about ground creeps me out.

Phobias are such weird things because we usually have no idea where they originate. They just are. I’ve never fallen from a great height; I’ve never been threatened with destruction and mayhem by being thrown from a great height. Yet, great heights (or even relatively piddly heights) rattle me. The rattle me sometimes to the point of immobility. Wikipedia looks at acrophobia in this way:

Some neurologists question the prevailing wisdom and argue that acrophobia is caused by dysfunction in maintaining balance and that the anxiety is both well founded and secondary. According to the dysfunction model, a normal person uses both vestibular and visual cues appropriately in maintaining balance. An acrophobic overrelies on visual signals whether because of inadequate vestibular function or incorrect strategy. Locomotion at a high elevation requires more than normal visual processing. The visual cortex becomes overloaded and the person becomes confused. Some proponents of the alternate view of acrophobia warn that it may be ill-advised to encourage acrophobics to expose themselves to height without first resolving the vestibular issues. Research is underway at several clinics.

Phew, that was a relief. I’m not totally weird in this, just moderately weird. Part of my problem unfolds this way. I’m fine when I am in the apartment. I am comfortable looking out the window and like the view. It’s when I go out on the balcony that it all starts to fall down. The balcony is five unforgiving floors up. What if I stumble? What if I get some bizarre impulse to hurl myself over? I am not even mildly suicidal; never have been. So, where does that come from? Well, it’s another one that cannot be clearly explained, and it is a common manifestation of acrophobia.

Acrophobia isn’t uncommon. Neither are other phobias, like irrational fears of spiders, snakes, closed-in places, crowds, the marketplace (agoraphobia) and virtually every thing and circumstance you couilod imagine. Few are those who don’t have some phobia or other. This doesn’t mean that all fears are phobias, howver. If you happen to live in cobra country, then a fear of snakes would be common sense rather than a phobia.

My acrophobia first became apparent to me a number of years ago. My ex-wife (one of them) and I were in Seattle on vacation. "Let's go up to the top of the Space Needle," she said, all perkily. We went out to the Space Needle. I looked up at it from street level. "No freaking way am I going up there," I told her, and I didn't say "freaking." Just an overwhelming fear gripped me and I knew I had no desire to be up there. Last year my wife and I were in Waikiki staying at the Hawaiian Village. One afternoon I looked out the window of our 22nd floor (shudder) suite and pondered the tower across the way. There was a guy out on the balcony on probably the 25th floor. How can he do that, I thought. I found it uncomforable even watching him, yet he seemed blase as hell about where he was, and even leaned over and looked down. My stomach almost flipped and I had to look away.

Anyway, in my acrophobia, I felt much relief last evening when we went out to dinner at the home of good friends who live nearby. The host asked how I liked living part-time in the 5th floor apartment. Fine, I replied, it's a nice place, except I’m not crazy about being out on the balcony. He told me that was why he’d asked, because he – ta-da! – is also acrophobic. I didn’t know that before. It came as some comfort since he is an otherwise successful and rational man. In fact, his acrophobia is even more severe than mine. He has problems going up a stepladder, whereas I only balk if I’m more than halfway up a full-length extension ladder. If I’m still low enough that if I fell I would only break a leg rather than splatter myself over the pavement, I’m still OK. So, if a 2nd floor apartment becomes available, I think I'd be pleased. On the other hand, I am grateful we're not on the 12th.

Even so, should you walk by my place some day, don’t expect me to be out on the balcony waving at you. I might lose my balance and fall. I don't think I'll take the chance.

Do you have a phobia? Want to tell us about it?