Way back along time ago when my wife and I were first married and I was still driving my 1957 Chevy Convertible, we drove down to Virginia to visit with my Uncle, Aunt, and cousins. When we started back to Pennsylvania, I got a wild hair and decided it would be fun to take both the Blue Ridge Parkway and the Skyline Drive their full lengths. That turned out to be a very, very long day, although a most beautiful one. The road was two lanes and wound around a lot of turns and the the speed limits were set very low. I think the fastest one was 35 mph. Of course we had to pull off at a lot of scenic outlooks.
My wife is afraid of heights. That is hard to imagine since her Dad owned airplanes and they flew places a lot and she was never bothered by being up in the air. But, she said, she had a plane wrapped around her. Anyway, I got her too close to the edge of a cliff to show her a beautiful scene and she just froze. I learned my lesson, now she stays back quite a ways and I go stand on the edge and take pictures to show her later (grin).
I was never afraid of heights until I got old. Back in my youth, I would walk pipelines over ravines, or walk out on tree limbs, etc. Now, when I get close to the edge of something or even get up on the roof of the motor-home, I get this funny, queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Guess heights just make me hungry, right? OK, you all have high time today and don't hit bottom, you hear?