Zip Line
I would like to dispense with the usual levity that typically surrounds my blog posts, and take a moment to tell a cautionary tale. One that will hopefully be passed on from father to son, for generations. One that will provide direction in this otherwise chaotic world.
this story starts around 1995. I was 11 years old. In my backyard there was a playhouse that sat on top of our shed. The balcony of this playhouse was around 12 feet high. one day, my friends and I thought it would be good to create a zip line from the balcony of this playhouse down to one of the trees in our backyard, roughly 20 feet away. we fashioned some rope to the top of the bannister on this balcony and ran it down to a decent sized branch of the tree. we then took the "lat pull down bar" from an old weight lifting set and set it on top of the rope to use as our handles as we went down this zip line. we had a great time on this zip line. We spent what seemed like hours, but was actually the better part of 25 minutes, taking turns going screaming down this rope at speeds most likely approaching 10 or 12 mph. it was at this time that I learned my first lesson in physics. and it had to do with friction and what it does to soft metal like aluminum or tin (or whatever cheap manufactured alloy this lat bar was made of). After 10 or so trips down the line, my friend went again, and at the end of the run, the heat from the friction of the rope caused the metal to get hot, and bend, resulting in the bar being folded in half. My friend, was able to bail out at the end, and just let go and landed safely on his feet. there was a momentary pause as the 3 young kids looked at the bar. then, in apparent agreement that it was still safe, the bar was bent back to proper shape and I took my turn. at the moment my feet left the balcony, and my entire weight hung from the bar, it immediately bent back in half-causing me to let go of the bar and fall 10 feet to the earth, landing square on my back. having the wind knocked out of me, I spent the next several seconds wheezing like I was a chain smoker in the emphysema ward.
so ended my childhood desire to ride zip lines.
but as the saying goes, those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. or more recently "fool me once..."
Puerto Rico is an island. I had flown to the island to meet up with friends prior to our embarking on a 7 day cruise to the southern Caribbean. before boarding the ship, the idea was presented that we go on a jungle zip line adventure. Not one to be the 'party pooper', I agreed. I was actually looking forward to it. It had to be better than my previous experience on a zip line, right? Dave then mentioned that on the zip line that we happened to be going on, you rode it "superman style"... which basically means, you are suspended below the cable in the prone position, which means in the event of a broken cable, you will have a perfect view of the ground as it becomes closer and closer. I wasn't keen on the idea of "superman style". I would much rather hang from the cable in a seated position, where I felt a false sense of hope that if there was an issue with my harness, I could use my ninja-quick reflexes to reach up and grab the cable with my hands. but again, I'm a team player. As we started off on our journey up the Puerto Rican mountains I envisioned a zip line akin to the ones they have a summer camps and scout jamborees. you know, 20-25 feet in the air, 100 feet long-nice leisurely zip lines. But as we continued to drive up and up and up (this is an island remember? how big could this mountain be??) I realized this was not your garden variety zip line. In fact, if you go to the website for Toro Verde Nature Adventure Park, you will see a description for the zip line that they refer to as "La Bestia" or "The Beast" for those that don't habla the old Espanol. this is the World's highest Zip Line at 853' above the ground. It is also the World's Second Longest Zip Line at over 4,000 feet of zip lining terror. Speeds on the zip line reach up to 65 miles per hour... and we're going to do it... laying down. Here's a screen shot of the online description for "The Beast"
We arrive at the park and go to check in. the park has several different zip lines running throughout the mountain side, and every few minutes we can hear screams of joy, and some screams of terror as people come down the lines.
We had to wait quite a while before we were able to actually go on our tour. and the more we waited... the more time I had to ponder my life, and whether I had accomplished what I needed to do while in this mortal frame. It also gave me time to re-read a sign they had at the office of the park 10 or 20 times. it said something to the affect of "If you suffer from vertigo, dizziness, acrophobia, or if you are pregnant, thinking of becoming pregnant, or care in the slightest about self-preservation, DO NOT ride the zip line." I'm pretty sure that's what the sign said. I ran through the check list multiple times. "Vertigo? nope. dizziness? getting there. acrophobia? I don't know what fear of spiders has to do with a zip line...unless...wait, are there giant jungle spiders out on the zip lines?? I ask the lady at the desk, but she offers me a puzzled look, and I assume she doesn't speak english. Not planning on getting pregnant, but if that would get me out of this mess I'm in, sign me up. 9 months of labor would be a cake walk compared to the torment that was about to come over me. care for self-preservation? um, apparently not enough for me to back out of this arrangement, although if we wait much longer I might get there."
here is a picture from the office/restaurant area.
Eventually our shuttle arrived to take us over to the Launch Pad. once down at the Pad, we waited another 40 minutes for our turn to come up, which means I got to watch 10 other people go screaming down the mountain, disappearing from view, leaving only the sound of shrieks to confirm that they still lived.
Picture of us in our gear, waiting more.
The time finally arrived for Dave and I to tackle "The Beast". and because timing is everything, a few minutes before we went off, it started to rain. and not just a little pitter patter, but full on tropical rain-the kind you see in Jurassic Park. We get strapped in, because, apparently extreme rain, is not a deterrent for "The Beast" and the guides shove us on our way. The first 20 yards are not too big a deal-mainly because the ground is still relatively close. but after that, there is quite the drop-off. Now over my left shoulder I can hear Dave screaming like a giddy school boy on Christmas Morning. He is loving life. I find that I am not able to make a sound. I try to give a consolation "whoot" but for some reason my throat is experiencing some sort of anaphylactic shock and I immediately wonder if I swallowed a jungle spider. the rain is dripping off of my helmet and onto my glasses which are beginning to slip from my head. hundreds of feet below, I can see other zip lines crossing our path, and I wonder if my glasses fell at the right moment perhaps a passer by would catch them for me.
I try to look up a bit to see if the ride is nearing completion, but through my rain spotted glasses, and being that I possess the flexibility of a 2x4, I am not able to get a good look. So I am resigned to keep looking down and contemplate my fate. After 30 years, this is going to be how I die? My cable will snap, either from shoddy workmanship, or years of jungle spider bite marks, and I will plummet 800 feet to my death. I didn't even get to see the cruise ship. I hate Puerto Rico.
Suddenly I'm snapped out of my mortal epilogue by the feeling of my body, slowing down, ever so slightly. Could it be nearing an end? I'm going to live?? I try to look up, but remembering my previous lack of flexibility, I just trust that the platform is nearing and I continue to look down, laughing derisively at the ground below me. You're not getting me this time! my brief moment of triumph is interrupted however, as I slowly come to a complete stop. I do my best to look out ahead of me, and see that I'm still 30 yards from the platform, and the ground directly below me is still a good 200 feet down. I start to hear the sound of cables moving and I think that they are going to pull me in via a pulley- like I was a majestic American flag that they were retiring at the end of a long day... this was not to be however. straining to look up, I see a guide attach his harness and swing out on the line towards me. I keep waiting for Dave to catch up to me, but can hear that he is already at the platform... he must have joyfully screamed past me while I was in deep reflection regarding my frail existance. the guide makes it out to my location. I can not stress enough how difficult it is for me to lift my head and look forward. no flexibility (I really need to do some yoga or pilates or something), and I'm wearing a helmet, which doesn't help things. But exerting all my effort I look up to him. He is on the line above me, so I'm basically eye level to his crotch. he says something in Spanish, which I imagined to be a commentary on my body not being aerodynamic enough. Or something else about how "The Beast" had just made me his... well, you get the picture. I look up at him with puzzlement in my eyes, and he then says, rather curtly "grab my legs".
and so my worst fears have been realized. I was left to be towed into the platform like a human tugboat. I think I would have rather fallen to my death. The dejection of this scene can not be summed up in words. Lucky for all of you, it doesn't have to be, for my dear friend Jill, captured the event on tape. as you watch the guide come out to get me and bring me in on the proverbial "walk of shame", you will hear radio chatter between the guides at the starting point and the guides here on this platform. Again, I don't know what was being said, but I imagine these guys were saying "can we send the next group?"
"Not yet. Some Gringo is stuck out on the line, we have to pull him in."
Enjoy.
"Not yet. Some Gringo is stuck out on the line, we have to pull him in."
Enjoy.
