15 June 2009
Swinging Monkey
In the past, my friends (and I) have referred to myself (ourselves) as a dirty monkies. This is because I am (we are) usually riding mountain bikes along the duffy, dusty (or muddy) paths that wind through the Californian Redwood Forests. While my bike was in the shop getting some needed repairs and T.L.C. I decided to get a different perspective of the Redwoods. Rather than looking up at the trees, or darting through them, I got to go to the top of them and look down...
It was Friday night and I was joining my friends Jun and Charlotte in the celebration of the completion of their doctorates in Archaeology. A fantastic party, with a live East Coast Swing band, great friends, food and fun. Then a friend of mine, Big D., a fellow mountain biker and one who works at a camp up in the Redwood Forests just outside of Santa Cruz, asks me if I would like to join him and his crew on one of the many rope courses that they run at their camp. It is something I have been wanting to check out for a while, and with no option to mountain bike through the trees, I figure, why not swing above the them instead?
So the next morning my goal was to seek a partner in crime to accompany me on this exciting and new experience. I went to an early morning swim practice, and between sets, asked my friend M. if she would like to join me. With only a few seconds to communicate between each set of 25's and 100's, we hatched a plan.
A windey drive up the mountain roads of Eureka Canyon brought us to a camp called Koinonia. I wasnt aware of what this word meant, but when I looked it up on Wikipedia, I saw after the fact that it is defined as "communion by intimate participation". That it was.
Our leader was L.Jay. Right off the bat, you knew that this was someone special. More enthusiasm and charm than you realized someone could possess, and just the perfect amount of leadership and encouragement to get people to go beyond their comfort zones and limits. The other crew were just as fantastic and all experts in ropes and safety.
L.Jay, Big D. and the rest of the crew introduced us to the ins and outs of ropes safety. Helmet and harness adjustments, crab claw attachments, and the dos and donts so that we would be safe from a 60 foot drop once we were suspended in the trees. With rock climbing experience in my back pocket, I felt relatively comfortable with their instructions, and appreciated the reminders and refreshers as it has been a few years since I have used any of this knowledge.
And off we went. There were two options to get up to the first platform that was 60 foot in the air. One option was a climb up a ladder of giant staples that were set along the length of a Redwood. The other was a bit more challenging - to scramble up a hanging ladder rope followed by a rope web. This was known as the Firecracker. I couldnt resist the latter (ladder!) option, so up the Firecracker I went. As I hauled myself up the swinging rope(s) I had to use just about all my strength and whatever climbing technique I could recall - and I knew that I would be feeling it in my shoulders and back muscles the next day! But it was worth it. I made it to the top - yay! Now what is next?
After clipping the crab claws to the wire lines above me, which were attached to the ropes tied into my harness, I was to step to the next platform without much hesitation or fear. It was a big step but doable. The next step was slightly bigger, but didnt require more than a hop to get from one platform to the next. But then there was another gap to cross. This one required jumping. Definitely a leap of faith, knowing that you could easily jump across this were it a big puddle on the street, but that if you didnt make it, the line that you were attached to above would catch you should you fail. It took a few deep breaths but I went for it and made it. Yay! Now what do I need to do?
At this point, I met up with L.Jay who was prancing around on a four inch wide, 15 foot log that bridged two redwoods. Paralleling this log was one of similar size. I thought that I would be walking along ONE of these, since they were set so that as you walked along one log, the other one got further away. But no. L.Jay looks me in the eye and asks me to make a committment. Without even knowing what the commitment WAS, I find myself mesmerized by her enthusiasm and encouragement, trusting her, and saying "Okay". Then she stands on one log and has me stand on the other log while facing her, and asks me to place my hands on her shoulders and lean into her, keeping my body straight and strong, while she did the same. then we start walking sideways to get to the other side, using each other as support. The first few steps were fine, until the logs started getting further and further apart. The angle between the apex of our shoulders got wider and wider, having to rely on the support of each other more and more as we bridged further apart. It was the epitome of commitment as without the other, you would have fallen most definitely. And we made it to the next platform. Yay - we made it!! What next? "Nicole, go back to the other side. Let's try something else" says L.Jay. "What? But I made it? I have to do it AGAIN?". So I quickly jotted across the log to the other side, with some fear about what was to come next. This time, we did the same thing, but faced away from each other, arms locked, back and shoulders pressing up against each other. This took even more commitment than before, because now you were no longer looking each other in the eye, but rather had to rely on communication and sensation of pushing into and away from one another for support. We shuffled across and were one step away from the platform - one last, tricky step from the platform. Then, my foot slips and we swing amongst the trees, laughing with exhilaration! What a thrill. And lesson in trust.
The next feat was to walk across a pair of SLACK wires. This I shuffled across, trying to push my feet outwards to keep the lines taught so that I did not slip off of them and find myself swinging in the air once again. A., one of the crew, talked me through it and I made it. Luckily I didn't have to go back and try that one again - Phew!
The next challenge was to walk across a swinging bridge, that may have been 30 feet or so long. It actually looked relatively easy, until you realized that the bridge was made of planks loosely lined together by a wire, and narrowed to a single plank in the middle. And that you had to do it without holding onto the rope above which was to catch you if you fell. Big D. was awaiting me on the other side and demonstrated how the bridge could produce sine waves if you jumped up and down on it. Luckily he did not do this while I was crossing. So I attempted to cross the bridge without hands, but then grasped onto my rope as a security blanket as I crossed. This apparently, was not challenging enough, so Big D. said "Nicole, go back and do it again - this time with no hands!". What?! But I made it to the other side - I have to do it TWO more times?! But the next thing I knew, I was running back to the other side across the swinging bridge, filled with fear but also the excitement of getting to try it again. "Step right in the middle" instructs Big D., so that the single plank doesn't tip sideways as you shuffle across it. And so I did, and so I went - look Mom, no hands!
The next challenge was a sight to behold. A series of lodge poles (logs standing on end) strung together on a wire string like Christmas Tree popcorn garland. We were to, quickly, walk across the tops of these logs before they pendulum'd out throwing you off balance. After watching Big D. go across, and waiting for the logs to stop swinging, I assessed the challenge, took several deep breaths, and off I went. I found it near impossible NOT to hold onto my lifeline (rope attached to wire above). And I made it! Yay! But then, as you can guess, Big D. asked me to go back across and try it again without hands. You have GOT to be kidding me?! And what do you know? I didnt put up a fight but made my way back to give it another go. On my way back I tried without hands and I almost made it but hesitated and swung into mid air. Not a problem. My lifelines caught me so that I could recover and make it back up to the platform. My final time, I stood there, taking many a deep breath so that I could get the courage up to try balancing across the poles without hands. After the poles stopped swinging I took a few more deep breaths and went for it - fast and nimble I kept telling myself (fyi, I am not this type of person - I like to be more deliberate and in control, taking my time as I nudge my way through technical situations). I instinctually put one hand on my lifeline as I crossed. However, to give myself some credit, the line remained slack the whole time, and I made it across without falling or relying on any leverage my line may have given me. I was psyched! I could really do this.
The second to last challenge was to swing across swinging platforms suspended from each corner by a rope. M. belayed me down to this next challenge. This one was the most ominous challenges, as one could easily get clocked in the shin by a the platform as it swayed to and fro. Big D. demonstrated one way to try this. By swinging from the first platform, you were meant to grab onto the ropes of the next platform as it was within reach as you swung towards it. If you didn't get it within the first or second swing, you were unlikely to reach it (as I found out), and had to generate more swing to get back within reach. I found this took more strength, if you decided to forgo the skill and agility aspect. I found that I was using my upper body strength more than anything so that once I grabbed the lines of the neighboring platform, I could lift my legs up and swing them over. I made it to the other side, without any more bruises to my already heavily bruised shins. Thankfully, I was not asked to try that one again!
The final test was not one of skill, but pure exhilaration and (a leap of) faith. A giant rope swing! Sitting on the edge of a platform with a seat belt holding me in place, Big D. attached the end of a 40 foot ( or so?) long swing to my harness. I was instructed to slide off the platform, without leaning forward or backward, so that I did not hit my head on the platform or swing upside down. My heart was beating strong but I was excited to do this. Big D. undoes the seat belt, which was necessary because the pull of the swing once attached would have surely pulled me right off. And I slide myself off the platform, only to find myself free-falling (and screaming with excitement) for a few seconds before the lines caught me and swung me in a large ark through the giant Redwoods. Me Jane. I felt like I swung so high that I could flip backwards but the next thing I knew I was swinging backwards so high that I thought I might be able to land back on the platform like a trapeze artist! But then I found myself swinging back and forth, and this time without screaming, but rather looking around, letting go of my tight grip on the ropes, and just letting my limbs finally go limp, sitting back, and enjoying the ride. K. was down below, ready to grab a foot and let me down. I was spent. I was adrenaline filled. I was elated. I felt challenged. I felt accomplishment. And I felt ready for a nap!
A huge thanks to all the great crew at Koinonia for allowing me to test my skills, courage, and limits in an inspiring and encouraging environment. It is an experience that I will never forget.
M. also has an amazing perspective and recollection of her experience on the ropes course, if you are interested in finding out about a completely different viewpoint. She probably got more out of this day than anyone there.
Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera with me. But there are a few pictures of some other rope courses on their website, to give you an idea of what we were "up" to!
It was Friday night and I was joining my friends Jun and Charlotte in the celebration of the completion of their doctorates in Archaeology. A fantastic party, with a live East Coast Swing band, great friends, food and fun. Then a friend of mine, Big D., a fellow mountain biker and one who works at a camp up in the Redwood Forests just outside of Santa Cruz, asks me if I would like to join him and his crew on one of the many rope courses that they run at their camp. It is something I have been wanting to check out for a while, and with no option to mountain bike through the trees, I figure, why not swing above the them instead?
So the next morning my goal was to seek a partner in crime to accompany me on this exciting and new experience. I went to an early morning swim practice, and between sets, asked my friend M. if she would like to join me. With only a few seconds to communicate between each set of 25's and 100's, we hatched a plan.
A windey drive up the mountain roads of Eureka Canyon brought us to a camp called Koinonia. I wasnt aware of what this word meant, but when I looked it up on Wikipedia, I saw after the fact that it is defined as "communion by intimate participation". That it was.
Our leader was L.Jay. Right off the bat, you knew that this was someone special. More enthusiasm and charm than you realized someone could possess, and just the perfect amount of leadership and encouragement to get people to go beyond their comfort zones and limits. The other crew were just as fantastic and all experts in ropes and safety.
L.Jay, Big D. and the rest of the crew introduced us to the ins and outs of ropes safety. Helmet and harness adjustments, crab claw attachments, and the dos and donts so that we would be safe from a 60 foot drop once we were suspended in the trees. With rock climbing experience in my back pocket, I felt relatively comfortable with their instructions, and appreciated the reminders and refreshers as it has been a few years since I have used any of this knowledge.
And off we went. There were two options to get up to the first platform that was 60 foot in the air. One option was a climb up a ladder of giant staples that were set along the length of a Redwood. The other was a bit more challenging - to scramble up a hanging ladder rope followed by a rope web. This was known as the Firecracker. I couldnt resist the latter (ladder!) option, so up the Firecracker I went. As I hauled myself up the swinging rope(s) I had to use just about all my strength and whatever climbing technique I could recall - and I knew that I would be feeling it in my shoulders and back muscles the next day! But it was worth it. I made it to the top - yay! Now what is next?
After clipping the crab claws to the wire lines above me, which were attached to the ropes tied into my harness, I was to step to the next platform without much hesitation or fear. It was a big step but doable. The next step was slightly bigger, but didnt require more than a hop to get from one platform to the next. But then there was another gap to cross. This one required jumping. Definitely a leap of faith, knowing that you could easily jump across this were it a big puddle on the street, but that if you didnt make it, the line that you were attached to above would catch you should you fail. It took a few deep breaths but I went for it and made it. Yay! Now what do I need to do?
At this point, I met up with L.Jay who was prancing around on a four inch wide, 15 foot log that bridged two redwoods. Paralleling this log was one of similar size. I thought that I would be walking along ONE of these, since they were set so that as you walked along one log, the other one got further away. But no. L.Jay looks me in the eye and asks me to make a committment. Without even knowing what the commitment WAS, I find myself mesmerized by her enthusiasm and encouragement, trusting her, and saying "Okay". Then she stands on one log and has me stand on the other log while facing her, and asks me to place my hands on her shoulders and lean into her, keeping my body straight and strong, while she did the same. then we start walking sideways to get to the other side, using each other as support. The first few steps were fine, until the logs started getting further and further apart. The angle between the apex of our shoulders got wider and wider, having to rely on the support of each other more and more as we bridged further apart. It was the epitome of commitment as without the other, you would have fallen most definitely. And we made it to the next platform. Yay - we made it!! What next? "Nicole, go back to the other side. Let's try something else" says L.Jay. "What? But I made it? I have to do it AGAIN?". So I quickly jotted across the log to the other side, with some fear about what was to come next. This time, we did the same thing, but faced away from each other, arms locked, back and shoulders pressing up against each other. This took even more commitment than before, because now you were no longer looking each other in the eye, but rather had to rely on communication and sensation of pushing into and away from one another for support. We shuffled across and were one step away from the platform - one last, tricky step from the platform. Then, my foot slips and we swing amongst the trees, laughing with exhilaration! What a thrill. And lesson in trust.
The next feat was to walk across a pair of SLACK wires. This I shuffled across, trying to push my feet outwards to keep the lines taught so that I did not slip off of them and find myself swinging in the air once again. A., one of the crew, talked me through it and I made it. Luckily I didn't have to go back and try that one again - Phew!
The next challenge was to walk across a swinging bridge, that may have been 30 feet or so long. It actually looked relatively easy, until you realized that the bridge was made of planks loosely lined together by a wire, and narrowed to a single plank in the middle. And that you had to do it without holding onto the rope above which was to catch you if you fell. Big D. was awaiting me on the other side and demonstrated how the bridge could produce sine waves if you jumped up and down on it. Luckily he did not do this while I was crossing. So I attempted to cross the bridge without hands, but then grasped onto my rope as a security blanket as I crossed. This apparently, was not challenging enough, so Big D. said "Nicole, go back and do it again - this time with no hands!". What?! But I made it to the other side - I have to do it TWO more times?! But the next thing I knew, I was running back to the other side across the swinging bridge, filled with fear but also the excitement of getting to try it again. "Step right in the middle" instructs Big D., so that the single plank doesn't tip sideways as you shuffle across it. And so I did, and so I went - look Mom, no hands!
The next challenge was a sight to behold. A series of lodge poles (logs standing on end) strung together on a wire string like Christmas Tree popcorn garland. We were to, quickly, walk across the tops of these logs before they pendulum'd out throwing you off balance. After watching Big D. go across, and waiting for the logs to stop swinging, I assessed the challenge, took several deep breaths, and off I went. I found it near impossible NOT to hold onto my lifeline (rope attached to wire above). And I made it! Yay! But then, as you can guess, Big D. asked me to go back across and try it again without hands. You have GOT to be kidding me?! And what do you know? I didnt put up a fight but made my way back to give it another go. On my way back I tried without hands and I almost made it but hesitated and swung into mid air. Not a problem. My lifelines caught me so that I could recover and make it back up to the platform. My final time, I stood there, taking many a deep breath so that I could get the courage up to try balancing across the poles without hands. After the poles stopped swinging I took a few more deep breaths and went for it - fast and nimble I kept telling myself (fyi, I am not this type of person - I like to be more deliberate and in control, taking my time as I nudge my way through technical situations). I instinctually put one hand on my lifeline as I crossed. However, to give myself some credit, the line remained slack the whole time, and I made it across without falling or relying on any leverage my line may have given me. I was psyched! I could really do this.
The second to last challenge was to swing across swinging platforms suspended from each corner by a rope. M. belayed me down to this next challenge. This one was the most ominous challenges, as one could easily get clocked in the shin by a the platform as it swayed to and fro. Big D. demonstrated one way to try this. By swinging from the first platform, you were meant to grab onto the ropes of the next platform as it was within reach as you swung towards it. If you didn't get it within the first or second swing, you were unlikely to reach it (as I found out), and had to generate more swing to get back within reach. I found this took more strength, if you decided to forgo the skill and agility aspect. I found that I was using my upper body strength more than anything so that once I grabbed the lines of the neighboring platform, I could lift my legs up and swing them over. I made it to the other side, without any more bruises to my already heavily bruised shins. Thankfully, I was not asked to try that one again!
The final test was not one of skill, but pure exhilaration and (a leap of) faith. A giant rope swing! Sitting on the edge of a platform with a seat belt holding me in place, Big D. attached the end of a 40 foot ( or so?) long swing to my harness. I was instructed to slide off the platform, without leaning forward or backward, so that I did not hit my head on the platform or swing upside down. My heart was beating strong but I was excited to do this. Big D. undoes the seat belt, which was necessary because the pull of the swing once attached would have surely pulled me right off. And I slide myself off the platform, only to find myself free-falling (and screaming with excitement) for a few seconds before the lines caught me and swung me in a large ark through the giant Redwoods. Me Jane. I felt like I swung so high that I could flip backwards but the next thing I knew I was swinging backwards so high that I thought I might be able to land back on the platform like a trapeze artist! But then I found myself swinging back and forth, and this time without screaming, but rather looking around, letting go of my tight grip on the ropes, and just letting my limbs finally go limp, sitting back, and enjoying the ride. K. was down below, ready to grab a foot and let me down. I was spent. I was adrenaline filled. I was elated. I felt challenged. I felt accomplishment. And I felt ready for a nap!
A huge thanks to all the great crew at Koinonia for allowing me to test my skills, courage, and limits in an inspiring and encouraging environment. It is an experience that I will never forget.
M. also has an amazing perspective and recollection of her experience on the ropes course, if you are interested in finding out about a completely different viewpoint. She probably got more out of this day than anyone there.
Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera with me. But there are a few pictures of some other rope courses on their website, to give you an idea of what we were "up" to!
Labels: adventure
# posted by Nicole @ 7:19 AM
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]