For some reason, BASE jumping is misunderstood and our government forbids it and makes it illegal in most every place in the country. So I'm kind of a criminal here in the United States for pursuing the dream of flight, but everywhere else I go, every other country, I'm kind of looked up to, or fascinated with for the flying that I do.

I'm a pretty wild guy and I live pretty close to nature - I've often lived in caves or on the edge of cliffs or in forests - so it's just second nature for me to tap into the movings of the weather and the world.

The moment before I jump is filled with anxiety and what-ifs. But then as soon as I enter the air, I'm filled with this calmness and that's the main attraction to it. That's why I do these death-consequence pursuits or arts.

Entranced by the flight of a raven, I watch its shadow move effortlessly against golden, shimmering granite. I long to be that free, flying above the cluttered world of normalcy, where so many are half alive.

It's one of the most fundamental desires of man, of being free and flying unhindered, and it really seems to go a lot with our founding fathers' principles of freedom.

For some reason, BASE jumping is misunderstood and our government forbids it and makes it illegal in most every place in the country. So I'm kind of a criminal here in the United States for pursuing the dream of flight, but everywhere else I go, every other country, I'm kind of looked up to, or fascinated with for the flying that I do.

Calmly spinning, I scan as far away as I can see. The last rays of the day's sun warm my back and my stare locks onto my own shadow. I follow the lines of my body on the stone in front of me, spreading my arms as wings, and bathe in the beauty of existence.