I am not doing this - hurling myself off a bridge while attached to a giant rubber band - for the fun of it. I'm doing it because I'll hate myself if I don't I thought. I arrive at Whistler Bungee early and plod my way to the ticket office. I reluctantly hand-over my credit card and sign the death waiver with trepidation.
Once I get to the platform I look down to the river below. The platform. The river. 160 feet separate them. Crap.