Climbing on the rocks is fun, and it's just like what I used to do when I was a little kid, except that back then the fall would have been considerably less than several thousand feet. My brother who is eighteen seemed to delight in stepping about one or two steps closer to the edge than my mother, who was already pretty brave. That is, until we split up and my mother wasn't around. Then my brother who is seventeen joined me beyond the rail to climb over rocks and slide down short embankments while the first one mouthed concerned statements from the safety of the Rim. This ain't Disneyland, folks.
People really die here.
Like the woman I was told about that wanted to get a nice wide-angle shot to include her entire family on film, so she took a step back. Still couldn't fit them in, so she took another step back. Her family started to warn her to be careful, but she still couldn't get Aunt Susie into the picture, so she took another step back. That step ended hundreds of feet later, and that picture ended up not being taken. That's just one highly dramatized story among dozens.