Dare? Who needs dares?
Before I was a year old I was climbing my parents’ bi level end tables. My mom kept those things well coated in lemony pledge, so is was quite the exercise in futility.
Before age three I got bored with my swings and started climbing the legs of the swingset. I would then chimpanzee swing my way across the top bar. At seven, I decided I would gain world attention if I started walking across that top bar. The trick was getting to the other end and nothing to hold to get down. Jumping would have caused me serious damage. I was the size of your average three year old. I took a couple of steps back, turned sideways, then stepped backwards off the bar. I caught it on my way down, then slid the rest of the way down a leg.
Fast forward past years of climbing barn rafters to catch chickens and various other swift stunts, I decided I wanted to be a stunt woman. I practiced with things like my car to truck jumps doing double nickles down the duelies. I was proficient with a bull whip before Indiana Jones was flying the millennium falcon.
Like I said, who needs a dare? I was born to make people shake their heads.