Deans Descent

Sam Jensen

3000 feet. He stood there in his tattered gray flannel, fidgeting about
the living room. Black, beady eyes scanned the audience intensely
through a lump of greasy, long black hair. A group of awestruck friends
and family gawked at his most recent stunt: a slack-line across
Yosemite falls in Yosemite National Park. Big Deal. People walk across
the Grand Canyon on TV with large poles and security harnesses to
balance themselves. They always turn out okay. But if you look closer
at Dean Potter in the National Geographic YouTube snippet, you can
see him walking across a tightrope about 1,400 feet above the ground
with nothing but his long, bony bare feet to secure his towering six foot
five frame from falling into the vertical rocky vortex of the water
current. As the compliments reverberated around the warm wooden
walls of the ranch-style New Hampshire home, he humorously slumped
his shoulders as if to recede into an imaginary shell.

2500 feet. Contrary to what a layperson armchair warrior may believe

(and what some of the YouTube comments said), Dean Potter was not
some dope-smoking adrenaline junkie who did a bunch of mind-
boggling stunts for attention. He was a pioneer and an elite extreme
athlete who possessed a rare combination of strength, endurance and
coordination for his height. When asked why he does what he does,
Potter explained to everyone at the New Years Eve party that he
focuses on only two things in the face of death: breathing and the
beauty around him. He saw his passions in free climbing, slack lining
and BASE-jumping as dangerous arts rather than sports. Yosemite
National Park provided a playground for Dean to express himself. And
yes, he did it for himself. Only himself.

2000 feet. Dean always pushed limits. He still holds records in free-
climbing, slack lining and is known as an expert aerialist and prolific
BASE jumper. (BASE stands for Building, Antenna, Span, and Earth). He
was the fastest to climb the Half Dome-a 4,700 foot peak in Yosemite,
in just over an hour. With no harness. Sponsors who were initially
attracted to Potters success began to grow skeptical of his daringness.
As his stunts grew more dangerous (and sometimes illegal), his
sponsors, Clif and Patagonia, dropped him.

1900 feet. Danger loomed in every climb, slack line or jump. No

matter how experienced Dean was, he had to remain diligent. That
meant constantly testing equipment and knowing the area inside and
out. Though this seemed to bother everyone else, Dean always
remained calm in these situations.
1800 feet. When asked if he had a death wish, Potter frequently
acknowledged that he recollects his very first dream; a dream where
he began to fly, before subsequently plunging downward to his demise.
This first dream became his greatest fear. But within the confines of
his instinct was a will to conquer this fear. This concept of turning
dying into flying was my basic life principle was what he used to
repeat. I can picture his introverted smile he used to flash when I hear
this. With this simple motive, Deans daring revolutionized his field by
hybridizing free-solo climbing, BASE-jumping and running.

1700 feet. In recent years, the now 43-year-old phenomenon has

moved towards a fascination with aviation. The idea of flying always
tantalized his imagination. He took to BASE-jumping off of the jagged
cliffs in Yosemite with a wing suit-gear that webs the arms and legs
together, rendering the jumper to look like a flying squirrel. As a
matter of fact, he stated on his blog that he wished to eventually land
the human body unaided. Anything overly ambitious and absurdly
impossible was the only criterion Dean required when setting a
personal goal.

1600 feet. At dusk on top of Taft Point, he stood atop the 3000-foot
peak with a younger expert, Graham Hunt. Both men donned wing
suits, and were about to execute a routine jump. Since BASE-jumping
is illegal, the two climbers waited to jump from the cliff until dusk,
when park rangers were switching shifts. With a slight breeze blowing
and his girlfriend spotting him, Dean once again plunged into deaths
open mandible. A seemingly endless spiritual euphoria encompassed
his psyche as his feet left the face of the rock. He was free.

1500 feet. And that would be the last time Dean stood on two feet.
On a rock ledge about 1500 feet above ground level, both Potter and
Hunts bodies were found. Neither of their parachutes had deployed.
Despite numerous precautions made by the veteran climber and
cautious testing of the equipment, Dean Potter finally fulfilled his death
wish on a calm California evening on May 16th. When I finally heard the
news, I pictured him in my living room (which used to be his living
room) quietly observing his company around him. His dark eyes
glimmered at the mention of Yosemite, a canvas on which he had
illustrated his legacy. People who never knew Dean dont understand
that he was fully aware of the risk in his stunts. He was fully aware of
the sponsorship money he lost by not playing by the rules. The best
part was, he didnt care because he loved what he did. Upon hearing
the news, I was not too surprised. Though he went too soon, I really
couldnt imagine him going any other way. Dean knew that the end of
his life would not be defined by an if but rather a when. But that
didnt matter. Deans life and accomplishments served a mural of
inspiration for anybody feeling boxed within rules and pre-established
boundaries. Why would he ever want to try and fall to his death?
Because in his mind, falling was flying and he found ultimate freedom
and self-actualization while holding deaths embrace at arms length.
How can I feel restless? Dean Potter died in his realm of spirituality
and joy. He personally told me that he loved no other place more than
Yosemite Park. Finally, his 20-year career has come full circle. His
existence evaporated in the wake of his own art, in the same place
where he started. As I watched him soar through the rocky valleys of
his hometown, I couldnt help but feel inspired to break free of my own
shackles, to live a life free of boundary and fear. Dean was more than
an energy drink sponsor. He was a symbol of the giant leap that must
be taken to truly succeed.