You know those big radio masts you see in the distance? Well, I'm the one who maintains them. The one I was working on that day was an older model, built in the 40's for the war, so naturally it lacked the modern amenities the nicer ones have, like elevators. This one was supposed to be about 400 meters tall, one of tallest ones in the UK, and I was being sent up to clear ice off the main structure. We had to do this often, as ice is pretty common on these, and too much can cause a collapse. It was a foggy day, so I couldnt see the top as I was ascending. The ladders these ones have arent the most substantial, so movement is pretty common. As I continued up, the fog only got worse, until I could barely see the next few rungs. As I kept climbing, my barometric altimeter started bugging out, reading I was first at 200 meters, then 8000, then 0, and then it broke. I thought nothing of this, as equipment malfunctions were common and I didnt really need to know my exact altitude. As I reached my first stop, I pulled my ice ax out and started chipping away at the inches of ice that had collected on the steel frame. This took about half an hour, and by the time I was done, the fog had only gotten thicker. As I approached my second stop, about 300 meters above the base, I found that the ladder was broken. I made a note of this, and, despite being against safety protocol, started climbing along the outside of the mast. This is hardly uncommon, as the ladders were made as cheaply as possible, and you get used to it. I kept climbing, and as I got to what I thought the 400 meter mark would be, the tower didnt stop. So I kept climbing, maybe I had just lost track for a moment, but an hour later, I knew something was wrong. I had climbed for much longer than I thought I would need to to get to the top. I checked the markings on the tower, but those had been scratched out. So, naturally, I kept going. After 4 hours, according to my pocket watch, I had reached the top. When I climbed atop the mast, and started to chip the ice away from the main antenna, I looked out, and the fog was gone, but I still couldnt see the ground. I realized that I must be much, much higher than I thought. Atleast 3 kilometers. Once my work was done, I readied myself, and jumped off the tower, in a northern direction, trusting my parachute would keep me safe. But as I fell, the ground appeared no closer, and I fell far longer than I thought I should. Almost 10 minutes later, the ground appeared below me, far, far too close. I grabbed my parachute deploy line, but still hit the ground at nearly 50 miles per hour. It's a miracle I didnt die, but as it is, I can never walk again.
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