Bridges and Alpine Sex

Mating Beast Cave Painting, Williamsburg Bridge
I like walking across bridges; it satisfies what seems an inborn desire to see the world from on-high -- likely an artifact of my Alpine heritage.

I figure that highly adapted genetic heritage is a product of (1) the hyper-mutating effect of intense radiation at high altitude, (2) the lack of oxygen up there, which shrivels the gonads and induces genetic trauma, or (3) what I've heard was the "mating ritual" carried out by my prehistoric Swiss forebears:

Two strangers -- perhaps lost while gathering herbs, or exiled from their cave for "acting like a Neanderthal" -- meet on a narrow trail snaking over a jagged, icy summit as the sun sets and wolves start to howl.

There is just one small cave to sleep in, which means that by morning -- if they are oppositely sexed and close enough to human -- the mutating miracle of high altitude conception has occurred.

Alpine cave people couldn't afford to be picky.

In case you've thought of trying it -- walking across bridges, that is -- be forewarned: Bridge walkways are great places to freeze or boil to death, inhale exhaust and road debris, or -- when the weather's passable -- nearly get run over by speeding bikes.

Below, a Williamsburg Bridge diving platform and the refreshing East River far below.


Update: Just noticed this nice 3 minute slideshow ode to walking in NYC at the NY Times.