At the precipice of a breathtaking sandstone cliff overlooking the enchanting landscapes of Moab, Idaho native Chris Johnson found himself in an unusual predicament. A dedicated firefighter and EMT with the Rock Creek Fire District, he was luxuriously harnessed into a rope swing, draped in a protective helmet, encircled by fellow adventurers and guides. The occasion? A transformative weekend retreat meticulously crafted for veterans and first responders grappling with the ghosts of trauma and the myriad complexities of mental health issues. Gazing down at the sheer drop, Johnson’s mind spun with disbelief. “This isn’t you—this is a perfectly good rock, why would I jump off it?” he pondered, an inner dialogue echoing his apprehension.
As the video rolls, a flurry of quick breaths escapes him, punctuated by the supportive shouts of peers resonating in the background. Suddenly, the countdown begins—five… four… three… Johnson mumbles an expletive, summoning the courage to inch towards oblivion. A tangible moment hangs in the air as he teeters on the edge, suspended between fear and exhilaration.
“Honestly, I’d probably still be standing there today if they hadn’t counted me down,” he reflected with a touch of humor.
Equipped with a GoPro, Johnson captured his exhilarating leap into the unknown, soaring through the air amidst shouts of delight, the wind roaring in his ears. Upon swing’s end, disembarking from the adventure, he beamed at the camera, “You did it! …You’re a strong individual. You stepped out of your comfort zone, dog! Did something you would have never done before.” This leap wasn’t just a swing; it was a cathartic release, dissolving the oppressive shadows that had loomed ominously over his spirit.
The Genesis of 22 Jumps
Enter 22 Jumps: a beacon of hope orchestrated by Marine Corps veteran Tristan Wimmer. Spurred by the tragic loss of his brother, Kiernan—another brave Marine who succumbed to the silent turmoil following a traumatic brain injury in Iraq—Wimmer birthed this nonprofit in honor of a brother lost too soon. “When my brother died, I was working overseas in Afghanistan when I got the call,” Tristan recounted, his voice heavy with emotion. “It wrecked me… it took years to find a way to honor his memory.”
In an inspired moment, Tristan pledged to undertake 22 jumps in a single day, a poignant tribute to the estimated number of veterans who die by suicide daily—a figure lifted from a 2012 report by the Department of Veterans Affairs. What began as a personal challenge morphed into a rallying cry; from humble beginnings of aspiring to raise $2,200 for traumatic brain injury research, his endeavor ballooned, amassing over $25,000 in donations. In subsequent years, the impact multiplied exponentially, culminating in the establishment of a formal nonprofit that has since raised an astounding $400,000 toward TBI research through annual BASE jumping events.
Embracing the Thrill
Matt LaJeunesse, a Moab local and owner of Tandem BASE Moab, recognized the unique potential for adventure-based healing. With a continuous commitment to supporting local first responders, he reached out to Wimmer and a cadre of guides, bringing to life a multi-day retreat tailored specifically for veterans and first responders. The inaugural retreat, held over Veterans Day weekend in 2023, forged connections and shared experiences amid the breathtaking Moab backdrop.
Fast forward to this year, which saw yet another exhilarating retreat unfold—a whirlwind of adrenaline-pumping activities: BASE jumping, skydiving, breathtaking helicopter flights, majestic mountain biking, and wild rock crawling—experiences designed not just for thrills, but for healing.
Generosity flowed abundantly; local businesses, including Chile Pepper Bike Shop, Skydive Moab, and others, stepped forward, donating their services, creating a rich tapestry of support that made these transformative experiences possible. “It’s pretty remarkable, the amount of generosity that makes these events possible,” Wimmer articulated, reflecting on the collective spirit of community.
A Catalyst for Change
Capped at around a dozen participants, the retreat carefully curates individuals who might glean significant benefits from such experiences—those unacquainted with the exhilarating world of adventure sports, yet yearning for connection and camaraderie. Johnson found himself there via a close friend’s recommendation, battling demons of shame and regret in the wake of a recent 40-day recovery program. As he embarked on the seven-hour journey to Moab, uncertainty loomed. Would he truly leap into the void—both literally and metaphorically—acknowledging his battles with mental health in front of strangers? Ultimately, he chose courage over doubt.
What blossomed was authentic kinship: shared stories, laughter, and comprehension among warriors who understood one another without words. Overcoming initial fears, he forged bonds with fellow participants that would forge lasting connections. And the pivotal moment of the rope swing? It didn’t just signal a thrill; it marked a rebirth. “It’s been a breath of fresh air,” he reflected, awe-infused at the transformation he experienced.
Adventure as Healing
The retreat culminated in a reflective feedback session, empowering participants to share insights and articulate the profound effects of extreme sports on mental health. Wimmer hopes that the qualitative data captured will serve as a pivotal resource for future studies exploring this uncharted territory of therapeutic adventure. Anecdotal testimonies from participants illuminated the uplifting, resonant experience—the adrenaline, the camaraderie, and the catharsis provided by adventure.
Dr. Jon Syzlobryt, the organization’s chief medical officer, elucidated the curative essence of such adrenaline-fueled moments, likening the thrill prior to a jump to the exhilarating tension of combat, a harrowing parallel fraught with a sense of life-altering clarity. “It’s crucial not to live purely for adventure sports,” he emphasizes. “But the perspective gained—from the struggle and the community—can be incredibly therapeutic.”
In this pilgrimage of healing through adventure, Wimmer underscored the importance of novelty, yet acknowledged that the community aspect—shared challenges and triumphs—was what truly brought participants back. For Johnson, the experience was nothing short of “epic,” igniting a passion for mountain biking that he had never before embraced. He aspires to return to the rugged beauty of Moab, this time with his family, eager to share the magic that transformed his outlook and rekindled hope.
