Act 15: Go Ziplining or Indoor Skydiving

I bought the Groupon for this outing without a second thought.  Zip Lining sounded like so much fun!  Flying through the air, getting a view of the world from high above.  Sounded amazing!  Except I forgot a few teeny tiny details.  But more on that in a moment.

My friend Jackie and I chose a lovely September morning to undertake this act.  We drove the two hours toward Hanging Rock in good spirits.  There was a little chill in the air - the promise of Autumn was palpable.  September and October are my two favorite months of the year, so I was in a good mood.  That and Jackie is great company, so we chatted our way west.

We arrived a little late because we took a detour to the State Park, but it was no problem.  We got our harnesses on, signed release forms, and prepared for adventure. 

I was all smiles before I knew what I was in for.

There were 10 people in our group - plus our two guides: three high school boys, a mom and her grown son, a 9 year old girl with her grandparents, and us. We had to hike up a pretty serious hill to get to the first line.   Between the bracing hike, listening to the instructions from our guide, and fussing with my camera, I had plenty to occupy my attention.  It wasn't until I was standing on the edge of a 25-foot gorge that I realized the first detail I had overlooked:

My feet were going to have to leave the ground to do this. 

How this fact escaped me, I cannot say.  But as I looked out across to the other end of the line, it was clear that were no two ways about it.   I surveyed the area underneath the line.  It didn't look too far down, so I lifted my feet off the ground and scooted across to the other side.  It was a little nerve-wracking, but I was OK.  The line was short; I didn't go too fast.  It was kind of a thrill.  

We had to walk across a swinging bridge with no railings to get back across, but I was strapped in, so no big deal.  Even though Victoria - the EVIL, but hilarious guide - was purposely rocking the bridge.  I still made it across with minimal fuss.  That was fun.  I was ready to mark this off my list and head home.

Then they told us that was just the practice run.   Wait.  What?

We hiked further up the hill, then climbed a huge flight of stairs up to a tall platform.  THIS was the first line.  It was high off the ground.  And long.  It was then that the second tiny, overlooked detail became clear:  I was going to have to launch myself into the air in order to get across.  Again, how I missed this, I cannot say.  If I had stopped to consider this fact in advance, I'm fairly confident saying that I would NOT have made it up to this platform.  But there I was.  It was at this moment, another fact became clear to me:

I did not want to jump.

In fact, every fiber of my body was screaming at me: DO NOT JUMP!  YOU ARE GOING TO DIE!!!!!!  My hands were shaking, my legs would barely hold me.  It was in a daze that I allowed Victoria to strap my harness to the line.  I looked blankly over to the next platform.  It was about 70,000 miles away.  There was no way I was going to be able to leap out into empty space.

But Jackie had already gone across.  And the Grandma was going to do it.  So was the little girl.  I had to.

I did it.  Awkwardly, and cursing, but I made it across.  I was scared out of my mind, and was so afraid to trust that the guide at the other end was going to catch me.  In fact, I tried to stop myself with my feet (a big no-no) and ended up whacking my left foot pretty badly.  But I made it across.

As I waited on the platform for the rest of the group, my hands were shaking so badly, I could barely turn off the camera.  Turns out, zip lining is terrifying.  

This is not the kind of activity a control freak with trust issues enjoys.  I had to step out off solid ground into thin air and trust that the equipment and my guide were going to keep me safe.  When I was up there, I had absolutely no control.  Well, I had a brake, but I couldn't seem to get it to work, and they had warned us that braking too much would cause us to get stuck in the middle of a line.  So yeah.  It was just me - hurtling through the air - completely at the mercy of something other than me.

I was living my worst nightmare.

And I had to do it 11 more times.

It was at this point, I started cursing myself for not choosing indoor skydiving.  With that, you jump once, endure it for a few moments, and it's over.  Done.  In the books.  Not extended over two hours and 12 instances.  And whose idea was it to do these stupid acts of courage, anyway? 

But, it was too late to change my mind.  I was committed.  

The next line was a no brakes line.  This meant, you launched yourself into the air, hurtled down and prayed that the guy at the end of the line was going to catch you.  Awesome.

But it turns out, it kind of was awesome.  The no brakes lines would come to be my favorite ones - because I could just jump and not worry about when or how I was going to stop.  I could just enjoy the ride, knowing that my guide was going to stop me.  Like so:

Jackie was actually SMILING!  

That's not to say that I wasn't scared out of my mind every time I had to stare down something like this:

And the few times we did end up walking on the ground to a line, I was tempted to call it a day.  But I didn't.

I jumped.  Over and over again.  Each time, it was a little bit easier, and a little more fun.  A few times, I jumped off backward.  And on the last line, I actually launched myself for a bit of extra speed.  And while I wouldn't say that I ENJOYED doing this, per se, I am very glad I did.  I'm proud to have overcome my fear to participate in this experience.

I learned an important lesson about trust from this act.  It reminded me that I cannot do everything myself.  I had to trust the professionals and the equipment to keep me safe.  In fact, the one time I tried to "do it myself," I actually ended up getting injured.  When I let go, and trusted the process, things went so much better.

To paraphrase the song "Defying Gravity" from Wicked:  "It's time to ignore my instincts, close my eyes, and leap."  I'm glad I defied gravity.  Taking that leap will help me to be much more sure-footed when I'm on solid ground.

Sometimes, you just have to jump.  I'm glad I did.

I'm extra glad that I don't EVER have to do it again!  (But I just might; you never know!)