I zoom to the edge and stop, quickly glancing back reassuringly at the others, like all of us fearless leaders do, then nervously turn back to the abyss. My heart is in my throat; I slowly … bravely (?) … wheel out onto the clear walkway, stop and look down. Below my footplate is clear glass … and nearly a thousand feet of sky … and then rocks (gulp). Beside me is a handrail with more clear glass. It feels like I’m suspended in the air. My wife, Terryll, follows with her cameras.
“A little scary isn’t it?” says she.
“Not bad,” I lie. “Are you getting pictures?”
“Yes,” she replies, “but this is a little unnerving.”