Reader Rave: “Why I Jumped Off Sunset Cliffs Yesterday.”

Editor: The following “reader rave” was sent to us anonymously by someone who claims they’re a local resident and reader. It was originally published on Sept. 10, 2014.

Yesterday, while searching Sunset Cliffs for waves in my car, I stopped, got out and then walked over to where the kids jump, and I jumped off the cliffs – and I’m 65 years old.  Here’s why:

It was hot yesterday … and muggy. I was looking for waves as I cruised the Cliffs. I had my suit with me and I knew I had to hit the water at some point.

I had seen them as I drove south along Sunset Cliffs Blvd – the kids jumping off that section of the cliffs into the Pacific below, and then climbing out over the rocks back up. You know where I’m talking about. It’s between Adair and Osprey. Heck, there’s even a Yelp page for it.

Kids, young people, have been doing it for years – jumping at that small outcropping – ( usually jumping – I’ve never seen or heard of anyone diving – as that would be particularly dangerous). Hell, I even jumped there when I was a teenager, 16, 17 18 years old when I used to surf the Cliffs. In fact, I had crawled back into the tunnel when it used to be more accessible, and walked back far enough to find a brickwall, apparently blocking any further movement.  The tunnel, as many locals know, was used during Prohibition to unload booze – the tunnel used to  – I’ve heard – lead up into one of the large homes nearby.

So, as I had turned around at the end at Ladera, and was making my way back north – I saw them again, and I saw people stopping and getting out. So I pulled over, got out and watched for a few minutes. I can do that, I thought.

It was hot, it was mug-city. I gotta get in the water, and if I go in here and cool off, I won’t have to deal with the sand. And most importantly, it was high tide.

Besides, maybe in a few years, due to erosion, this outcropping where people jump won’t be here anymore. I had known Needle’s Eye – a beautiful set of stone out in the ocean with a huge “needle’s eye” not too far away – before it crumbled into the surf decades ago.

I pulled into the small parking lot, pulled on my suit, grabbed my flipflops and towel and made my way down the short distance to where people jump off.

There was a bunch of people already there. Young men and women, some Anglos, some Latinos. When I reached the edge, I kiddingly told two young women there that I’d go after them as they were there first. They good-naturedly told me that I had to go first.  Two young guys stood by encouraging me.

One asked how old I was.  65, I said. He said, wow, I hope I can jump off this when I’m 65. Wow, did that make me feel good.  I edged over closer to where people leap.  I looked down. It was further than I wanted it to be. I feel slightly squeamish, and moved back.

Two Latina women had just jumped a few minutes before and they were making their way back up to the top – where we were all standing. I asked them how they got back up, as I wanted to be sure that I went the best way. The older one showed me how she had gotten up on a shelf that was just below the water level, as the waves surged in and out of the small alcove of land and water.

Finally, I turned back to the edge, moved up – and jumped!

I landed feet first – which stung abit, went down some – felt no rocks or bottom, came back up to cheers from above.

I splashed-swam over to that shelf, and tried to get up. But the waves – not large by any means – kept surging and knocking me back into the water. I started to swim around the point but noticed that the place where I had been – the shelf – was the best place to get up. So, I tried it again, got banged around some, but finally stood up. I looked up and those 2 young women had both jumped and in the meantime, and like seals, they were up on the rocks already – while I had been foundering around.

I grabbed onto the natural hand holds in the rocks and pulled myself up and was able to begin the slow scramble back up, and I then noticed some small bleeding abrasions on my legs, and a cut on my foot.

But I had made it. It felt refreshing, and youthful. The jump itself is the easy part. It’s getting back up on the rocks which is the difficult part. No one should attempt it unless they’re good swimmers – and it’s high tide.

So, why did I do it?

Was it a foolish attempt to relive my youth? Was it an unlawful, foolhardy thing to do, at all, no matter someone my age?

Hey, I did it for all those guys and women my age who drive by everyday and secretly wish they could jup off too. I did it for my generation. I did it for all 65-year olds, the grandparents of the kids who jump. I did it to show the kids that they’re not the only ones who can jump.

And hey, it was hot and it was muggy. And this way, I didn’t have to deal with the sand.