{"id":3416,"date":"2013-04-18T20:23:50","date_gmt":"2013-04-19T03:23:50","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.gdpalmer.com\/blog\/?p=3416"},"modified":"2013-04-18T20:23:50","modified_gmt":"2013-04-19T03:23:50","slug":"risks-some-chosen-and-some-not","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.gdpalmer.com\/blog\/2013\/04\/risks-some-chosen-and-some-not\/","title":{"rendered":"Risks &#8211; Some Chosen and Some Not"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>This week I pondered on some of the risks that I take.  Risks where I know what the consequences may be.  There are those that have unfortunate outcomes without knowingly taking any risk.  After reading a post on the blog of <a href=\"http:\/\/mausersandmuffins.blogspot.com\/\" >Brigid<\/a>, titled <a href=\"http:\/\/mausersandmuffins.blogspot.com\/2013\/04\/tales-from-travels-science-of-risk.html\" title=\"\u201cTales of Travels \u2013 The Science of Risk\u201d\">\u201cTales of Travels \u2013 The Science of Risk\u201d<\/a>\u201cTales of Travels \u2013 The Science of Risk\u201d I decided to put my thoughts into words. <\/p>\n<p>When I do most things in life, I cannot help but think of the risks involved.  I used to ride a skateboard with my kids.  That is, until I fell and cracked some ribs.  I have a t-shirt with a skater and the symbol of the circle and diagonal line over the skater.  I wore it once and a neighborhood kid saw me.  He calls me \u201cnon skater\u201d every time he sees me.  If he only knew how it hurt to breath for several weeks with the cracked ribs, he would know that I wear the shirt with honor.  Especially because my doctor told me I was too old to be on a skateboard.<\/p>\n<p>As for risks, I usually hike alone. I let my wife know where I am going and when I will be home. Much of the time I hike within the coverage of a cell phone.  At worst, I hike outside cell phone coverage, but within sight of one of the local HAM repeaters so that I can make contact.  However, occasionally I find myself on a trail where my only communication would be a whistle and hope that someone heard me and understood what three sharp blasts of a whistle meant.  <\/p>\n<p>I willingly take the risks, because I prepare my best for what may happen, even if it takes wrapping my mind around the thought that there are large furry animals in the forest that may be hungry.  However, when something happens, it gives pause to how mortal we are.  Simply being out backpacking in the dark and stepping to close to the edge of a trail on a steep slope where the ground gives way causes a quick wake-up call as you lose your balance and start to slide down the slope.  But you cannot sit on the trail in the dark as the temperature drops and feel safe.  You must go on.  You know the risks.<\/p>\n<p>Unfortunately, there are those that lost their lives and those that were injured this week in a place where there was a very low risk of injury or death.  Only at the hands of those with evil in their minds did the danger become a reality.  That type of risk should not be part of living a normal life standing on a sidewalk in a crowd of people.  If I find myself on a trail in the dark blowing my whistle for help, it is because I purchased that ticket and took that ride.  It is a regrettable fact that those people in Boston had no idea what impact the day would have on their lives.  My heart and prayers go out to all those afflicted by this tragedy.  On the other hand, if I get eaten by a large furry animal in the forest, I know what my neighbor will say.  \u201cI told him he would get eaten by an animal.\u201d  Before I leave on a backpacking trip, my neighbor always tells me I am going to get eaten.  I just smile and tell him that is a risk I am willing to take.   <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>This week I pondered on some of the risks that I take. Risks where I know what the consequences may be. There are those that have unfortunate outcomes without knowingly taking any risk. After reading a post on the blog of Brigid, titled \u201cTales of Travels \u2013 The Science of Risk\u201d\u201cTales of Travels \u2013 The [&#8230;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[34],"tags":[75],"class_list":["post-3416","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-philosophy","tag-philosophy","odd"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.gdpalmer.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3416","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.gdpalmer.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.gdpalmer.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.gdpalmer.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.gdpalmer.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3416"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.gdpalmer.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3416\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3421,"href":"https:\/\/www.gdpalmer.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3416\/revisions\/3421"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.gdpalmer.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3416"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.gdpalmer.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3416"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.gdpalmer.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3416"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}