Don’t get me started about my fear of parking on a hill!  Living in San Francisco was a trip trying to learn to navigate the steep hills. I felt like I would plummet into the void as I ascended the steepest climbs and the end was not visible. And then there’s the question of which way to turn my wheels so my parked car doesn’t leave without me.

Downhill has been an ongoing uphill battle for me. We once rode dune buggies up the sand hills in Oregon and I remember the adreneline-soaked fear of flipping over the ridge into nothingness, a sense memory that aflicts me every time I ascended SF’s shocking rises. 

Even tho, I now call the relatively flat San Diego my home, my breath still stops whenever I pass the cusp of a climb and face the nothing below that is the descent. Will I fall to our death? Will my car hug the road? Will I smash into someone or something? Having once crashed into a parked car on the sidewalk side by driving down a staircase (Yes, I did that!), I have every reason to fear for my and the community’s safety. 

I also hate riding bikes downhill –on even the slightest incline–and hug my handbrakes in full throttle fear of colliding into oncoming traffic or innocent trees. You can’t pay me to buy an e-bike that makes climbing hills easier because it also makes riding down faster. The only good slope in my book is no slope at all.

I also hate hiking uphill. Give me a nice flat trail and I’m a happy trekker. And forget about hiking back downhill where my fear of falling will undoubtedly trip me up.

I hope my life is not all downhill from here.  I hope my wheels are turned. I hope my life is on steady ground. But please don’t get me started on earthquakes!