One of Moe’s “endearing” traits is his total disregard of danger. He regularly gives Mom a heart attack by blithely standing on the edge of precipices:

Or by launching himself headfirst into all sorts of things.

He was only being true to form when, on a hike along the shore of Carlyle Lake, I stopped to exclaim at a vertical drop off down to the water. Moe raced over to see what was so interesting, and flew right off the edge.

It was a good 40 foot drop to the water (Russ insists it was at least 60 feet). Luckily, he only fell about 10 feet before he landed in a bush. Not since he launched himself into a fast, freezing Colorado River (see above) have I seen him look so scared.

While Russ shouted “don’t move!” to no effect, I frantically scouted along the bank for a way to get down, and scrambled down as close to Moe as possible. He got close enough for me to grab his harness and hoist him up. Russ gave me a hand up, as the tree branch I was hanging onto decided to be dead just at that moment.

Back in the camper, scuffed but unhurt, he was so worn out he didn’t even flinch during a loud thunderstorm. Being reckless is tiring!