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Two occasions where they got me up against the Bourne are seared in my nightmares. Twenty years ago now and both are clear as day. Makes the ones who don't get away more special maybe? Then there is the one that, after a near fatal fall on the rocks and legitimate 20+ minute fight with a big girl, I almost jumped into a river at high flood stage in late October, with a 1 month old son at home, to try to get to it. That one I am not proud of and consider myself lucky it broke off just as I took my flip phone out of my pocket and laid it on a rock in prep for a swim. I know for sure that one was 2005 and I am glad I didn't mess up the past 17 years with that boy.
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