We’d been waiting for this cliff all week. During Every campfire talk and map check, it came up—the big one. When we finally pulled in below it, the energy shifted. Porter didn’t waste time. Climbed straight up, quiet and locked in. (nervous) Eighty feet up, he stood at the edge, looked down and yelled for a countdown. THREE, TWO, ONE! and he immediately sent it. For a second, he was weightless. Just him, the drop, and the sound of the river below. Then the splash hit, echoing off the canyon walls. We all yelled from the boats, fired up. A week’s worth of buildup gone in one perfect moment.