“And if you wipe out, get in the fetal position and cover your face with your hands.”
These wise words were spoken by the Volcano Boarding instructor, minutes before I began my descent on Cerro Negro.
This is Cerro Negro. It’s a very active volcano in Nicaragua. It’s actually the most active volcano in the world, since it’s only 160 years old and has erupted 23 times… or so said our guide. Who knows.
All I know is that God and the fetal position saved my life.
I got on my little board, and held on to the pipe on the rope with both hands. I had my giant goggles in place, and my orange jumpsuit buttoned up.
Push off and here I go!
The beginning of the ride was a little scary. Manageable. I thought “oh, this is fun.”
I picked up speed. Lots of speed. Crazy speed. Then there was a sharp, 41 degree decline.
The guy at the bottom clocked me at 75 kph, which is almost 47 mph. I was going fast.
Then I lost my board…
I remember covering my face and getting in the fetal position as quickly as I could.
I started to scream, but there were rocks everywhere, so I closed my mouth and prayed.
I began my descent sans-board, rolling downhill at 25 mph, thudding onto the rocks with each airborne bounce. I rolled about 50 yards.
After what seemed to be a long time, I stopped. I lifted my head, and the mountain kept spinning. I sat up and found myself safe.
I thought “wow, I didn’t get hurt at all!”
People at the bottom looked alarmed. I yelled “I’m okay!” and chuckled.
Looked down at my hand… uh oh… I’m bleeding. Hmm. Other hand, yep bleeding. My chin hurts, I bet it’s bleeding too. And my forehead. This should be interesting.
I scooted on my butt all the way down (hilarious) and finally got helped to the very bottom.
Shaky is a good word.
Took off my orange jumpsuit to find rocks on my forearm, rocks in my hands, tiny rocks in my lower back, and sure enough, I was bleeding on my head.
I looked super hardcore because my knuckles were bleeding, along with my forehead. I looked like some kind of action movie explosion survivor (who definitely didn’t look back, the more I ignore the explosion, the cooler I look) and I had volcanic ash all over. It was legit.
I asked my friend to go ahead and help me clean up now, since I still didn’t feel any pain (Thank Jesus and adrenaline) so I got the rocks out. After I was all cleaned up, I felt the “holy moly I just rolled down a volcano in the fetal position” fear and acknowledgement hit me, and I burst into tears.
I kept crying and laughing and crying and laughing. It was super funny, but also super scary.
I praise God I’m okay, and I got to witness to the guys who had the radar gun, tell them that Jesus kept me safe. They nodded. They proceeded to tell me horror stories about broken collarbones and bleeding body parts. Yep, I was definitely spared.
The verdict: I sprained my right wrist and I currently have 2 bandaids on my face. My knuckles are still sore.
Yes… I’m that girl… the one who rolled down an active volcano in the fetal position.
I also got a new nickname, and it’s so fitting: Hot Rod.
