Through the daiquiri haze a figure came toward me, his yellow briefs glowed, his bald head gleamed in the street light. Was that Hulk Hogan?
I’m going to die, I thought sadly. The sadness actually surprised me more than the thought itself. I wasn’t panicking, I wasn’t stressed. I wasn’t kicking and screaming with every ounce of energy I had to prevent my untimely death. I’d simply accepted that I was going to die.
It was a Sunday, and I was almost twelve. It started, like many weekend adventures do, with a phone call. “Mrs. Walsh, can Billy come out to play?” On the other line would be my best friend Ronnie – my chum of chums, and the ringleader of our little troupe of troublemakers …
Caz Makepeace confesses a moment of sheer terror. “My 2 girlfriends and I wanted to tour Samosir Island, Sumatra on motorbikes. Not knowing how to drive them, we hired 3 local drivers, who we soon figured out must have been tripping on the magic mushrooms the area is famous for …”
Various storytellers describe moments in life when they thought: ‘Holy sh*t I’m going to die!’ Often funny, occasionally bone-chilling and always entertaining. Click image to read full story. Enjoy!
Learning to deal with nightmare scenarios in the Wilderness First Responder course. >> I’m a talented worrier (though I like to call myself a ‘realist’) which means that offshore sailing not only inspires tropical fantasies, but also conjures up fears of worst-case scenarios: a back-breaking tumble, a jibing boom to the skull, a misbehaving organ, […]