Over a single weekend, the world of extreme sports was marked by tragedy in three separate incidents, highlighting once again the inherent dangers of high-risk pursuits. Near Butler, Missouri, a skydiving plane crashed shortly after takeoff, killing 12 people. In Utah, Andy Lewis, renowned slacklining champion and former performer at the Super Bowl halftime show, died following a failed tandem BASE jump near Moab. Meanwhile, in Brazil, a 21-year-old woman fell to her death after apparently being unsecured during a rope jump from a bridge.

These episodes underscore the paradox at the heart of extreme athletics: participants confront clear and present dangers, yet willingly engage in activities that put their lives at risk. Jeff Shapiro, a professional adventure athlete based on the Oregon coast who has guided expeditions worldwide, offers insight into this mindset. Shapiro has witnessed the toll these pursuits can take firsthand, noting, “If you’re involved at a reasonably high level in four or five” extreme sports, “you’re going to lose a lot” of fellow athletes.

Contrary to popular belief, Shapiro argues the motivation behind extreme sports is not an adrenaline craving. “If you’re getting a big adrenaline rush from these things, and that is why you are doing it, you are doing it wrong,” he said. Instead, participants seek a sense of humility and presence that comes from confronting forces much larger than themselves. “I wasn’t in nature, I was nature,” Shapiro said, describing the immersive experience as one where conventional perceptions of time and self temporarily dissolve.

Others approach extreme sports from a different perspective. Blake Thacker, a 25-year-old software engineer training to become a certified skydiving coach who perished in the Missouri crash, was drawn by the discipline and precision the sport demands. His father emphasized that Blake was not reckless but meticulous in his preparation. His mother recalled how he reassured his family about the risks, distinguishing himself from typical thrill-seekers.

Psychological research supports the notion that extreme athletes experience fear differently. Kenneth Carter, a psychology professor at Emory University, explains that these athletes have a unique neurochemical response, characterized by lower cortisol and higher dopamine levels. This altered state allows them to transform moments of panic into heightened clarity. Jumpers often report an acute awareness of their environment during jumps, identifying details like cracks in rocks or canyons as they descend.

Far from seeking to eliminate fear, extreme sports practitioners use it as vital information. Allowing fear to build unchecked, Carter says, can lead to a damaging rigidity extending beyond their sport. This dynamic explains why, even after fatal accidents, survivors and fellow athletes often return to their disciplines. A skydiver who witnessed the Missouri crash went back up and jumped again that very night.

Shapiro himself has grappled with fear and the temptation to quit. After a near-fatal hang gliding incident in 2005, he questioned his participation in risky activities but realized surrendering to fear would mean retreating from all challenge. “If I’m going to stop doing this based on fear and doubt, I might as well stop everything,” he said. He returned to the skies the following day, embodying the resilience and complex motivations that define the world of extreme sports.