This is an adventure travel blog. As such, in addition to adventure sports, I blog about where to travel, and to that end, I admit, I’m pretty opinionated.

With that in mind, I think Florence is one of the most beautiful and inspiring cities on the planet. To think of the achievements of human ingenuity and creativity from this center of human achievement, as the birthplace of the Renaissance, and which inspired such movers as Michelangelo, Raphael, Donatello and Giotto, frankly, it’s inspiring just to mention those names and to think of the beauty they brought into this world.

Just the thought of Florence makes me want to be a better man.

Which is why I take issue with this image, and the cast of that great bastion of humanity at its finest, Jersey Shore, of which during season four, our heroes in low IQ/superficial blissful ignorance transplant themselves to…where else? The beautiful city of Florence, Italy.

These aren’t Italians. They’re douchebags, transplanted by their parents, who once came from that beautiful country, popped out a few babies who quickly adopted this whole superficial thing for looking hot in the moment, with seriously bad fake and bake and an attitude that people are gonna watch these nimrods dumbing down what’s truly one of the finest cities in the world for the price of a DVD.

Michelangelo’s David has inspired humanity for 500 years. And Jersey Shore’s gonna be around about as long as it takes the hole in the ozone from all that hair spray from these inept nitwits to spread, which, by my estimate, is gonna be pretty darn soon.

Bottom line: I think every human on Earth should visit Florence at least once. But please, PLEASE don’t associate this beautiful city with the goat puke propagated on Jersey Shore.

If you're a douchebag and you know it clap your hands *clap clap*

Has Nessie moved on to greener pastures?

Say it ain’t so! Apparently, recent sightings of the world’s most beloved monster, er, excuse me, “evidence-challenged endangered species” have it an all-time low, with just one “credible” sighting of the Loch Ness Monster in 2009. Apparently she’s been just as elusive in the two years since this blog post at Gadling.com, and the Scots are worried. And considering that Nessie’s the original lake monster who paved the way for Ogopogo and company, this sucks all around.

Observers are at a loss to explain Nessie’s recent shyness, and they’ve noticed, even in the United States, where conservatives claim Nessie was a victim of Obama’s America-hating health care system. Liberals maintain she died of shame after repeated use of the word “monster”. Whatever your view, she’s hiding. Poor Nessie.

On the plus side, there’s always Mothman and bigfoot. And don’t forget Bunny Man. He’s pretty special.

Get ready for some air time!  This video has some seriously amazing, if not demented jumping, from planes, ramps and things that make you go Boom! when you land.  You might recognize some of these jumps from some of my earlier blog posts.  There’s a bit of corporate plugging going on in a few stunts (drink Red Bull!), but you have to give it to them, they know how to put on a good stunt.  Jumps five and two are my favourite.  But number one is definitely justified as being the bravest, most hardcore jump of all time.  And for that, I tip my hat to Joe Kittinger.

On August 16, 1960, American Air Force Captain Joseph Kittinger boarded a helium balloon at Wright Field, Ohio. For the next hour and 31 minutes, Kittinger ascended into the stratosphere. Then, at 102,800 feet, or 31,333 metres for us metric system devotees, he stepped OUT of the balloon gondola. What transpired for the next 13 minutes and 45 seconds was beyond awe-inspiring. Kittinger fell without a parachute for 4 minutes and 31 seconds and reached a maximum speed of 614 miles an hour plummeting to Earth. Suffice to say, this is the highest skydive in history, and the record has stood for 50 years. Now Austrian daredevil Felix Baumgartner, of BASE Jumping Christ the Redeemer fame, wants to break the record, some time within the year, in a highly publicized jump that would see him take a leap of faith from 23 miles above planet Earth. I hope he makes it, but I have to nod in respect to Kittinger first. A man who jumps from 20 miles in the air and lives to tell about it has cojones big enough to fit in a dump truck, and while records are made to be broken, Joe Kittinger will always be remembered as the first man to jump from space.

This is the stuff of urban legends.  Mark Foo was a professional surfer, starting out surfing the south shores of Oahu, and later moved on to big wave surfing at Waimea Bay.  In the 1970′s, Foo joined the IPS World Surfing Tour and became a fixture on the international surfing scene.  His passion for big wave riding got the best of him however, and he quit the professional tour in the 1980′s to pursue his addiction to the big wave.

While his life was full of passion and excitement, his death was something out of a horror movie.  I mean straight out of a horror movie.  On December 23, 1994, Foo was surfing a set of waves at Mavericks with fellow surfers Brock Little and Mike Parsons.  Foo had just dropped onto a large wave, when he wiped out and disappeared from view.  Parsons caught the next wave and promptly wiped out.  Then he felt something tugging at his leg.  Thinking it was Little, and not realizing that Foo had disappeared, he went back out.

Fellow surfers found and retrieved Foo’s body later that afternoon.  This video documentary shows the wave and Foo’s wipeout, as well as Little and Parsons coming to shore on the next set of waves, still unaware that Foo was missing.  Parsons later told reporters about Little grabbing his leg from below the surface.  Nope, it wasn’t Little.  Look at the video and you see Little coming up behind Parsons…while Foo is still alive, held below the surface by his leg rope.  This video literally shows a man drowning in the background, without you, the viewer, even knowing.  How’s that for eerie??  However, the surfing community wisely chooses to remember  Foo as a big wave surfer, who lived and died following his passion.  And for that, I salute Mark Foo.

You’re not gonna see them whipping into a phone booth to don a red cape anytime soon, but there are those among us who do some pretty superhuman things.  Guys like Alain Robert, the Human Spider, who’s climbed some of the world’s tallest buildings, including Petronas Towers and the former World Trade Center with only his hands and climbing shoes, Wim Hof, aka the Iceman, capable of functioning in extreme cold for long periods (like running an Arctic marathon shirtless at 20 below zero!) and Daniel Tammet , aka the Brain Man, who once recited the first 22,000 digits of pi, and learned Icelandic – one of the world’s most difficult languages – in a week.  Although the Hulk will always be my favourite.

Long before Patrick Swayze made it cool to jump out of a perfectly good airplane with a bag o’ cash strapped to your chest, another extreme skydiver made the leap.  For those of you not familiar with the story, Dan Cooper, aka D.B. Cooper, hijacked a 727 in November of 1971 and demanded $200,000 in cash and four parachutes.  After receiving his demands he ordered the crew to fly the jet from Seattle-Tacoma International Airport to Reno.  He then opened the loading dock on the plane and JUMPED into the cold November night somewhere over Washington State near the Oregon border.  He was subsequently not seen again and his fate remains unknown.  He’s actually developed into something of a folk hero over the years – several communities in Washington State hold “D.B. Cooper Nights” at neighbourhood taverns, and many a pint has been been shared over the strange man – who captured the imagination of a nation and who ultimately never hurt anyone – in the hope  that maybe he made it somewhere warm and tropical and he’s been living the good life ever since.  Is this likely?  Probably not.  I certainly don’t condone hijacking airplanes, but you gotta admit, a man who jumps from a commercial jet over some of the most inhospitable terrain on Earth, long before the advent of GPS and modern-day survival suits, has cojones.  This post is for D.B. Cooper, a true bad boy.