Zip-Lining – Facing Fears

Well, I did it!  I also have the tee-shirt to go along with my new accomplishment.  What did I do?  Well, I faced one of my greatest fears, pushed my muscles to their limit, and took to the tree tops this weekend.  My husband and I went zip-lining at the historic Banning Mills in Whitesburg, Georgia.  We conquered the Screaming Eagle with only limited outbursts of panic.  Our adventure started with a treacherous walk across a wood-slated cable bridge.  At first it seemed easy, until I got about ten steps onto that wobbly, springy bridge.  That’s ten steps past the point of no return.  It only took ten steps for my eyes to see what lay below my feet, and I’m not talking about small wooden slats.  I saw tree tops, people!  That’s a sight that’s supposed to be above me – not beneath me.  That was the point when my legs decided to turn to jelly and my fingers clinched into death grips.  However, with shaky legs and a determination of steel, I concentrated on what lay in front of me, not below me.  I did really well, until I got to the last ten steps, the point where the cabled bridge was well into its upward climb, just past the point of realization that I didn’t have the strength to pull myself forward any longer.   My legs shook, my hands sweated bullets, and my breathing came in small gasps.  However, my mind remained calm, cool and collected.  When my left leg refused to move from the slat behind me, I calmly (without screaming my head off) called to one of the cute, young instructors for aid.  “I can’t seem to move,” I said.  He smiled at me and with a modicum of speed, grabbed one of the many ropes attached to my body and gave me a gentle nudge forward.  With his help, I scaled the last ten steps and pulled myself onto the tree top platform, and securely transferred my two safety lines. That was the first of many huge sighs of relief.  I didn’t even bother to look at the other side of the platform, the side where I knew I was about to take my first plunge into zip line history.  Needless to say, NO ONE else had any trouble crossing the cable bridge, including my husband.  At least he was smart enough NOT to say anything about it while we were so high in the air and standing on the edge of a rail-less platform.
 My first plunge was so exciting I forgot to scream.  I had my left hand securely on top of the ‘zip-doo hickey’, and my right hand clenched tightly around the ‘Oh Crap’ rope that connected my body to the line.  I stepped forward, leapt off the platform, pulled my knees up and went zipping wide open through the air. I didn’t bother to look down.  I kept my eyes on the platform in front of me and the instructor waving signals.  I was going great until he started waving his hands in front of him, shouting for me to ‘brake’, but instead of moving my hand from the “Oh Crap” line and cupping it around the cable behind me to slow my descent, I went blank.  I wasn’t about to let go of the “Oh Crap” line, so I extended my feet forward and smashed right into the instructor waiting for me on the platform.  He mentioned something about needing to obey the signals, but I only vaguely heard his comments.  Cognitive thinking hadn’t returned to me by this point.  However, it finally sunk into my brain by the time I was standing on the edge of the next platform, waiting to jump onto my next zip line, so I repeated to myself a reminder to ‘brake’. 
 The next jump went smoothly.  I was able to move my hand from the ‘Oh Crap’ line and cup it into a nice, slow brake.   By this time, my fear of falling abated and I felt secure in the zip lines that held me.  But feeling safe and sound on the treetop platforms was another story altogether.  Many times I found my feet on the very edge of the crowded dais.  I knew my safety cables were locked in and would keep me from crashing hundreds of feet to the ground, but there was no guarantee I couldn’t fall off the edge of the platform.  My mind, with its vastly gigantic imagination, kept playing scenarios of me falling, ropes snapping tight and my head crashing into a tree trunk, ending with me dangling upside down and no one able to pull me back up.  I even imagined one scene where a mechanical crane, or one of those long fire-engine ladders, had to be used to get me down.  So, I learned to get real intimate with my tree-top neighbors.  I’m just so glad I had used plenty of deodorant and had on a nice, fruity perfume.  I’m also very thankful my treetop neighbors were just as considerate. Everyone smelled nice.
The rest of the journey went off without a hitch.  I really, really enjoyed myself and walked around with an adrenaline high for a few hours afterwards. My husband seemed to have a great time, too, and I’m glad he was there to share this adventure with me.  It’s another item checked off my bucket list, but something I hope I get to do again really soon.  I love conquering my fears, and heights are at the top of that list. I know I’m still afraid, but I’m not afraid to face my fears, whether it is heights or failure.  I refuse to let either conquer me.  Till next time,~T.L. Gray