Assumption, Scotland
Sean Conway, long-distance swimmer and cyclist
I once crept onto a private beach to camp for the night and in the morning when I left, with sand in all my man bits, you know, because that happens when you sleep on a beach, I saw a huge sign that said: DO NOT ENTER. RADIOACTIVE CONTAMINATED BEACH. I’m still waiting for extra toes, or something, to start growing.
Greed, Idaho
Jon Turk, explorer, skier, paddler
It was medium-high water on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River, a fun level for kayaks but the people who were holed up above Pistol Rapid were in a raft and running scared. “We’ll give you twenty dollars to run our raft through Pistol,” they said. “Sure,” I said, though I’d never rowed a raft before. Pistol should be a piece of cake: Enter right, ferry left, side-surf the standing wave, and cruise.
Except you can’t ferry and side-surf in a raft overloaded with beer.
