#43 – ZIPLINING

The Adventure –  North America’s Highest Zipline

The cure for constipation.

That morning, my body went into fear response.

That’s right, my body has it’s very own special fear response system set up.

I actually call it ‘the cure for constipation’ because when I do something potentially scary – I quite literally have the shite scared right out of me.

Repeatedly.

That morning, in just a matter of two hours, I went to the washroom 3 times.

And that was just at home.

So perhaps I did have a fear of heights that I was somewhat unaware of – either that, or it could have been the haunting sounds of the blood curdling screams from the people as they let go of all control, trusting in the thin metal wire that kept them from plummeting hundreds and hundreds of feet into the deep ravine that was filled with waters and caves and deadly boulders that would smash their bodies and brains into smithereens.

But I digress.

Repeatedly.

Festering cesspool of icky gross things…

Weirdly enough, I didn’t want to go three days in advance to check it out. I suspected that if I did, it would be all that I could think about.

Festering in my imagination like the icky gross things in a cesspool.

Needless to say, I suffered lived for three days with the screams echoing in my head from those fragile little people as they richoceted from one end of the ravine to the other – dangling hundreds of feet in the air at some ungodly speed.

It was particularly troublesome for me because it was really windy that day and the sounds of their screams disappeared into the wind.

Into oblivion.

The acrophobic phenomenon…

I wasn’t entirely certain if I had a fear of heights or not.

I mean, I’ve never had an issue looking down before. Maybe perhaps it had something to do with the fact that our family constantly went on hiking trips that involved steep cliffs.

I’ve also never had an issue looking down from the top of a skyscraper or from an airplane thousands of feet in the air.

No big whoop.

And I absolutely LOVE and adore being at the top of mountains – any mountain, any size…just as long as I can see forever in whichever direction I look. I am a mountain goat, baby. That’s right.

So did this mean I could simply let go and step off the ledge attached to a thin wire while I plunged across the ravine at speeds of up to 55 km an hour without batting an eyelash?

Or would I be crying for my mommy?

Mis-Guided…

Brett the Guide

It was rather helpful that one of the guides was particularly attractive. Hot, actually. He was a strapping man with loads of muscles and an easy smile.

He was also going to be the one who prevented me from becoming dead…so I was more than okay with his presence.

So, of course, I had to ‘man up’ and put on a brave face for the eye candy.

Not that I should be using his more obvious charms as a crutch to pretend that I’m brave or anything like that.

I mean, I must be to some degree…after all, I still went ziplining on North America’s highest zipline – regardless of my body’s fear response and crazy-assed thoughts.

Why throw a perfectly good body off a cliff?

After seeing all my comrades plummet off the line into oblivion…I mean, to the other side of the deep wide ravine, it was my turn to let go and offer my life to the gods.

I could FEEL the FEAR coursing through my veins.

And without warning, or surprise, I had to go to the washroom.

Again. Go figure.

I kept thinking to myself, “it’s okay…I can always close my eyes and pretend that I’m back on the practice line”…or something wickedly brilliant like that.

Not to mention the nice pleasant thoughts about ‘said hot guy’ waiting to catch me at the other end.  Talk about a win-win.  Thanks Brett. 😀

Ignoring my body’s fear response and the insane dialogue percolating through the darkened crevasses in my mind, I let go and stepped off.

Facing any lingering fears head on.

With eyes wide open.

Feeling free.

Feeling good.

I’m flyin’ high, baby.

Sweat & Sex & Crying for My Momma…

Bosom heaving, heart pounding, body tingling, skin glistening with sweat, eyes dilated, and feeling rather breathless – I stood before the Apollo-like God guide. You would think that standing before such glory, all this would be for him. Nothing however, compares to stepping off the platform into the abyss, into the great wide yonder, toying with imagined death and kiboshing the fear.

And like the zig-zagging of the zipline, my thoughts were all over the place at neck-break speeds.

I’ve got to go to the washroom again, dammit. Oooo…there’s a hot guy waiting for me at the end of the line. Oh my god, I’m freakin’ out!! Wheeeee…this is fun!!!  Did I put on lipstick?  Ewww…what is that smell? Mommmmmmmy!!!!!  What is going on with my bowels?  Oooo…eye candy!  That tree looks awfully close! Where is the toilet? Isn’t there supposed to be a cave somewhere down there? Hey, was that an eagle? Wonder if he’s single? I can almost touch that tree! Damn, I’m like Peter Pan.  Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!!!

BUT…once I realized I wasn’t going to die in some sort of gruesome dramatic death scene, I could actually relax and see what was going on around me. Maybe even film it. Except for the part where the camera was attached to the line, not my hands – which is why you sometimes see it sideways in the video.

Definitely in need of a head cam.

After it was all said and done, I did cry for my mommy – not once, but twice. I’m such a wimp. Then there was the whole whiny voice thing on the video. Scared like a little girl. So much for putting on a brave face. 🙂

I did not ‘Do the Dangle’….sad, but true. Doing the Dangle is where you hang upside-down while plunging off into the wild blue yonder. But the Fates already had something in store for me as a replacement during the dangle run. If you watched the video, you saw the part where I was spinning around like a little girl.  Good thing I did that upright.

All in all, I loved the height and I loved the speed. Next time I go – and there will be a next time – I’ll put on a brave face and do the dangle.

Can’t ever say that my life is boring.

Check out the ZipZone in Peachland, BC.

© Monthly Adventure, Patricia Taylor, July 2011