Genes surely control a great deal of our constitution. And in that case I blame my Mother for my fear of heights. It’s not that I’m afraid of falling; rather at any given opportunity, I feel a burning desire to launch myself from whatever ledge I happen to be on. Waterloo Bridge for example; crossing it twice a day for nearly two years and I had to fight the urge constantly. At up to 120 metres above ground, standing on a ledge a metre wide, I’m glad there are four guides ensuring our safety.
Having completed the 24 point zipline course, I’m thankful for the experience; it’s gone some way to curing my vertigo. Though in hindsight, the cheaper 14 point option would have definitely sufficed. If I’d picked that, however, I’d not have traversed the 300m long, 50m high zipline. By this point, however, I was probably borderline heart-attack; my pulse soared and the sweat was relentless. “X Scream” at the top of the Stratosphere was terrifying, but was over in a minute – this lasted 4 hours.
The harness is similar to climbing – in fact all of our guides used indoor climbing harnesses. These guys are fearless; happy to swing upside down and wave their arms like birds while zipping across the lines. Abseiling down the numerous points, they’ll do it inverted; using a figure of eight and braking by hand at the last possible moment. This is completely insane. Climbing at the Westway will forever seem tame in comparison.
I spent most of the day hugging trees, much like the Koalas from yesterday’s Zoo. To say I was scared is an understatement. And by point 14, we finally find land and can sit: On the ground, where I can’t fall hundreds of feet to find a floor I cannot see. To make things worse, at each abseil point we’re let down by hand. There’s no auto-lock belay ATC being used. Just some dude; with his gloves.
By the fifth zipline, the world knows I’m not all that keen; my throat is soar from yelling curses that echo amongst the scenery. The guides are outstanding, but do like to torment the punters; and I’m easy pickings. Each abseil I’m asked “Fast, slow? If you want go slow, just say cha cha”. It doesn’t matter what I say; I’ve accepted my fate and know what I’m in for. Best I just close my eyes as the G-Force pulls at my stomach from each drop.
Our group is made up of four Irish squaddies on a year sabbatical, an Australian woman whose daughter was too scared to join us and a Hair Stylist from Florida. The latter being the most fearless of us all, surprisingly. He was more than happy to “Go Superman” across the longest line. This involves using the clip on the rear of the harness, so that facing forward; there’s nothing to hold as you “fly”. I’m glad I gave this a go on a shorter line; it’s an incredible feeling of freedom, but was irritatingly short.
Intermixed with hikes over rickety bridges, it’s hungry work and I’m more than glad to be finished for the day, enjoying a late lunch. One of the guides earlier explained that he likes to drink Thai Whisky (or White Spirit translated literally), each night. A shot is 20 pence, and I only wish I’d had a good few before heading off.
No comments:
Post a Comment