Daily Local News (West Chester, PA)
Great heights are thrilling, terrifying
Acrophobia is an extreme or irrational fear of heights.
There is nothing irrational about this. The fear is valid; if you take a single misstep in the Grand Canyon, it’s a long way down.
It’s all very confusing. Though I shake and hold on tighter than necessary walking across the Ben Franklin Bridge, I seek out high places. I’m sometimes scared, but I adore the views.
Last weekend, I drove across the 876-foot high New River Gorge Bridge in West Virginia. I craned my neck in all directions to get a glimpse, while I drove slower than necessary, in a bid to not take a disastrous wrong turn.
At 3,030 feet long, the bridge is the world’s fourthlargest single span arch.
Air planes are a blast. I will pay extra for the privilege of sitting at a window seat. I don’t know why everyone doesn’t seek the view from 35,000 feet: such a drastic perspective. I keep my eyes peeled almost the entire way.
Driving the Pacific Coast Highway from south to north keeps the car safely away from the edge and further away from the Pacific Ocean. Although it’s a bit scarier, the view is much better when headed south.
Those highways in national parks, known as engineering marvels, are a fine way for the passengers to watch the mountains fly by, but not so much for the driver.
The Going to the Sun Road in Glacier National Park doesn’t have nearly enough guardrails to suit my tastes.
Driving the Blue Ridge Parkway is a little safer with many protective walls made from stone. Being able to see more than 50 miles away, to 5,269 foot Mt. Katahdin, from the top of Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park, Maine is a life changing event.
Buildings present some of the best views. The owner of the Empire State Building profits more from high flying tourists than from all those floors of tenants. I snuck into the World Trade Center on a school trip and learned that you needed to switch elevators to get to the top.
Most state capitols feature domes and rotundas. The 21-story North Dakota Capitol is a skyscraper and the tallest thing around in otherwise flat Bismarck.
You can watch the Great Mississippi flow by for hours through the crescent, 20 floors below, at some of the hotels in New Orleans.
At the 1,815 foot CN tower in Toronto, they’ve installed a glass floor where the acrophobia hits full force. It doesn’t seem natural to walk and look straight down past your feet. Young children seem to exhibit the least fear.
The best view in Washington is from the Washington Monument. For health reasons, you can’t walk up the 898 steps anymore.
Timed right, parking on the top floor of garages in Atlantic City gives new perspective. All that neon after dark makes for a fine view.
People seem to shy away from parking on the top floor, so there’s less chance of getting your car door
dinged. The view from the High Street, Justice Center and Chestnut Street garages is glorious.
It’s a little spooky visiting the bridge above the 565foot high Rio Grande Gorge Bridge in Taos, New Mexico, at night. As your eyes adjust, and the canyon walls come into focus, the slowly revealed secrets of the river below create an eerie mood.
The Comcast Center will let you get a bird’s eye view of the city from 975 feet up, but standing at the lower base of William Penn’s feet at City Hall puts you right in the heart of the city and is a better view. The new Comcast Center is the tallest building in the city at 1,050 feet.
You only need to bungee jump once to fully confront your fears head on. And it was only once that I did that.
Light houses give us a high perch over water far below. It’s most fun climbing the dark corridors only to confront the light at the end of the tunnel, at the top of a light house.
So go ahead. Look down, but watch your step and hold on tight. Fear and self-preservation is a good thing.