Zip-a-dee-doo-dah...oh what a weekend!

The weekend is over and it's back to the real world. Work, dropping cars off for service, paying bills, pausing to watch Casey Anthony declared not-guilty (that's  a whole other blog) and finding a moment to write and reflect on an awesome weekend. We spent most of our time with good friends at their timeshare in Massanutten. I'd love to tell you that the weekend was a an exercise in healthy adventures, but truthfully I binged on Caramel creams, goldfish, and beef while only managing to fit in one bonafide trip to the gym upon my return. The trip wasn't a complete exercise in slothfulness: however, as I managed to test my dexterity and new adventurous spirit, zip lining down the side of a ski slope.

If I am completely honest, I have to confess that if I had known exactly what I was signing on for when I committed to the activity,  I would have said "No" instead of "Yes". I would love to claim that I agreed to go as a bold effort to face my fears, but the truth was when our friend called a few days before our trip to ask if we would be interested in joining them in a morning of zip lining, my only experience to that point was watching people zip line across a lake at a fairly low height. It sounded like a relatively benign fun out-door activity to me. I had no idea that it would test my immense fear of heights.

My first indicator that this would not be the relaxed adventure I had envisioned came in a posting from my friend who tried it a few days before we arrived. The words "varying heights" and "dangling" jumped out at me and from that point on I began to feel anxiety. My initial thoughts were that I would bow out and let the others go. I am not a thrill seeker and don't enjoy scaring myself for fun, but when I found out the tickets were already paid for and that they were non-refundable, I felt guilty backing out. So I convinced myself it couldn't possibly be so bad.

The morning arrived for our jump and I found myself dragging my feet behind the rest of the group. I had a big knot in my stomach as we pulled up to the location for our departure. As I scanned the side of the mountain my anxiety increased two fold. We were fitted with our equipment fairly quickly, and we headed to an escalator to the area where we would get our first lesson. On the way up we passed an elevated platform some hundred feet from the ground. We were casually told that would be our final destination, and we would have to step off the side and be lowered to the ground to finish the tour. Once you started the course, the only way back to the beginning was to finish the course. I almost turned around right at that spot, but for some reason the idea I would disappoint my friends somehow for failing to follow through kept me moving ahead, but my mood was quickly heading south.

We reached the top and were given our instructions which only proved to make me more nervous. Don't grab here, you might accidentally unclasp the hook you are hanging form; do be sure to lift your legs, so you don't bang the ramps; don't grab the metal wire to stabilize yourself on the pole or you might get your fingers crushed; break with an open hand, don't close your fist. There were clearly too many things for a nervous, klutzy person like me to remember. I was going to be the person who got stuck in the middle of a line hanging hundreds of feet above the ground who needed to be rescued.

We climbed a rope ladder to the first platform. As I looked ahead, I thought to myself that the first leg didn't look too bad. I could handle it. The platform was wobbly and I was not enjoying the instability created as each person took their turn, but I thought to myself, if all of the legs are like this first one, I won't need someone to push me off the platform to get me to keep going. It was my turn to go, and I grabbed hold of the lines being sure not to grab the hook that would unclasp and jumped off the platform. "Zoom" I reached the other side, slowly pulled up my legs and even managed to land gracefully. I could do this and might even enjoy it. The actual ride was fun! I felt momentarily relieved until I shared my feelings with the guide, and he quickly doused my contentment with the words, "Well, the rule is longer, higher, faster with each leg." That was about the time I caught sight of the next leg. He was right, longer, faster, but more importantly higher.

I made myself one with the center pole and proceeded to try and calm myself once again. One leg down, three to go, I just wouldn't look down or across. Instead I scanned the valley and tried to soak up the beauty while I recited the rules in my had lest I forget them on the next ride across. Don't grab the main hook, break with an open hand, lift up your knees at the end. I made it through the next leg and felt a little calmer. By the third leg, I realized, the actual act of zip lining was fun, but standing on the platform far above land while it swayed back and forth in reaction to the varying weights moving along the line was still terrifying. This was not something I was going to get used to.

By the time my two feet were planted again on the ground, I decided that zip lining held a certain appeal, but was probably not high on my repeat performances again unless over water or lower to the ground. I was really happy I had continued through the course. I felt a certain sense of accomplishment at the end for having faced my fears no matter how reluctantly, but mostly I was just really thankful that I didn't fall into a blubbering mass of panic along the way.