Crazy Cliff Jumping  I come to a small house-like building. A man walks out of the building. He has just signed up for a big jump: a crazy high jump out of a plane, with a woman. It will be later. The woman seems to have doubts about the jump. The man says, matter-of-factly, that they can't change that now: they've already signed up. I think the jump is a crazy feat that I wouldn't do. I see a photograph of a long backpack. It's a "full mountain pack" and is designed to fit a person inside it. I walk a short ways and am on a rock or cliff. There are two people with me. Their intent is to jump off the cliff, for fun. The rock ledge we're on slopes downwards gradually, then increasingly, and then is a sheer rock face. It's such that one may be able to peer over the edge for a look. I start to peer over. I'm very afraid of the height. I get down flat on my stomach and crawl towards the edge. It's too steep for me, so I'm going down headfirst just to peer over. I turn around because going headfirst is too frightening. I slide on the rock, not having a good grip. I say to the others, "I'm sliding!" They are unconcerned and say that I'm not really sliding. The man decides to jump. He says that he's jumping. He trots past me wearing shorts and tall black cowboy-like boots with no socks. He may have a funny hat on as well. He runs awkwardly with his knees high and legs out, like a comedian. He goes at a steady pace, a bit faster than a jog, and doesn't pause when he reaches the edge, hopping off. He drops below the line of visibility and I see only rocks. The cliff is very high, about 200 feet. I'm not even considering the jump: I think it is disastrous for me. At one point I see a person with a black backpack or parachute on. It doesn't look very sturdy. It's connected in front of the torso by two rings that are four or five inches in diameter. I'm in a dark room. There are photographs of two people on the floor. They may be landing sites of the jumps. In one of the photos is my acquaintance Heather Salley.