I had already rappelled the first 150 feet and passed the first knot. Ben and I drove to Mexico five days ago and this descent of Basaseachic Falls was the highlight of the trip. Except that it didn’t much feel like a highlight now.

"This is crazy!" I whispered to myself. We were told that this rappel was 311 meters high. Our five climbing ropes tied end to end totaled only 270 meters.

When I reached the end of the rope, I could expect one of three possibilities: the measurement could be off or the ropes could stretch enough to get me to the bottom, I could walk off on a ledge twenty meters from the bottom, or I could clip my ascenders to the rope and climb all thousand feet back to the top.

Of course Ben and I had already thought over all these possibilities. We tied off and rappelled just over the cliff on the south side of the falls first to consider that route. Because it didn’t have a high ledge to walk off and because we would almost surely land in the frothing pool below and not on solid ground, we chose to drop down the north side.

"Do you really think we should do this?" I asked Ben after I had climbed over the chain link fence and stared down.

"Absolutely," he answered. He didn’t seem to share my doubts of the sanity of this venture.

I leaned back on the rope and let it slide through my hands and my figure eight until I stood directly above the thousand foot drop. In my head, I reminded myself of the thought that came to me as we tied our ropes together for this descent. "This is why you came," it said. Yeah, my mind answered. This was the main reason for the entire trip. For the three thousand miles of highway. If I didn’t rappel Basaseachic, I would always regret it.

"See ya at the bottom," I told Ben, and let the rope slide through my hands again as the comfortable and secure world of the cliff top slipped out of sight.

Now I had reached the second rope. If I was going to turn around, I should do it soon. I looked at the thin rope in my hand and silently reassured myself of its strength. I looked up to the top of the cliff and wondered if the edge of the cliff could be cutting through the rope’s outer sheath. I looked down to where the rope lay caught up in branches and wondered if it would reach the ground.

These worries crept slowly down my throat, clawing their way to the pit of my stomach, tightening every muscle along its path. My heart beat a little faster, and then I asked myself one question: so what if the rope does break or if I have to free climb down a little ways at the bottom or ascend all the way back up? What’s the worst that could happen?

I took a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it go. "If I die, I die," I told myself. "I might as well enjoy the ride."

With that thought, I pushed the fears and unknowns out of my mind. I turned to my right to watch the millions of gallons of white water falling past me. My mouth dropped open as I was able to appreciate its stunning beauty for the first time.

Just above the cliff, years of the river's sloshing by gouged deep slots into the rock. At the edge of the cliff, gravity and momentum dragged the river into thin air - the path of least resistance. Between the violent river above and the distant roaring thunder where the river boiled in a large pool below, an enchanting crystal tinkling of water drops filled the air.

I continued to watch, spell bound, as fifty-gallon-drum fulls of water that fell away from the main shaft of the falls caught the air and opened abruptly like parachute canopies. Downdrafts from the falls caught the inside edge of these canopies and sent them spinning and swirling downward, only to explode open again a few hundred feet farther down.

For the full thousand feet this river fell and exploded and whirled and touched nothing but open, empty space until it reached the pool at the base. I hung on the rope and watched all this for perhaps two full minutes. I considered tying myself off and getting my camera from my back pack, but I hadn’t relaxed quite enough for that. Of course I deeply regret that now.  Instead, I loosed my grip on the rope and let it slide through my figure eight another hundred and fifty feet to the next knot.

"As long as I’m here, I might as well enjoy the ride," I reminded myself under my breath.