Talk 'bout a crackpot. What's that? Oh! His ancestors built the pyramids?
I think it is a fake.
Windy as a mofo up there. I see nothing indicating the presence of ye olde breeze.
Funny thing, the heights that scared me were from about thirty to about a hundred feet, the range where you might survive and be crippled for life if your luck was bad. After a hundred feet I figured that there wasn't much doubt, fall and you are dead. In those days some jobs had belts and single lanyards, other jobs they would look at you like you were a girly guy if you asked for a safety belt just because you were hanging by your toenails two hundred feet up!
Hu