Last week I talked about our Summer Bucket List and the fact that we didn’t accomplish much. There was one thing that was not on there that actually did get accomplished.
Wait. Does that even count? Can I legitimately say that we accomplished something not on our bucket list? Hmm.
Anyway, that thing was Ziplining. I live in the Northeast. Close to New York. In the Catskills there is a Ziplining park that boasts the highest zipline in the entire country. Why did we go there? Because The Kid has been bugging us for forever.
And because we are nuts. DH is deathly afraid of heights and I really could have stayed home and read. Or written. Or endured drip drops of water in the same spot on my forehead for 7 hours straight.
It turns out there was not just one zipline. Or two. There were six. Six little adventures wrapped up into one. So, just in case you didn’t die the first time, you got five more chances.
What goes through the mind and out of the mouth and body of a 47 year old woman who is about to throw herself over 680 feet of open air? This:
- What am I doing here? I am a 47 year old woman about to throw her body over 680 feet of open air. I should be home reading a book. Or writing. Or enduring Chinese Water Torture for 7 hours straight.
- OMG, my heart. I think I may have a heart attack. Oh my god, I’m going to have a heart attack. (Me to guide as I’m about to jump: “umm, has anyone ever died of a heart attack up here?” I probably should have googled it because I didn’t believe him. I’m seriously surprised I didn’t have a heart attack.)
- Pee. Yes, I peed. Just a little. That’s what happens when a 47 year old woman tries to fly. Maybe it was the high altitude? Or perhaps it’s because I no longer have much control over my pelvic floor muscles.
- So, how much would it hurt if the cable snapped? Would I die mid-air of that heart attack I was afraid of? Or would it be on impact? There are a lot of trees though. Think that would soften the blow? Superman. Where is Superman when I need him?
- The guide said not to hang upside down because we will fall out of the harness to our deaths. Sure okay. I’ll try not to hang upside down. I’m not a monkey. I will not play monkey at 680 feet in the air. I promise. Oh god. I hope I don’t accidentally play monkey.
- Put my body into a fetal position? I haven’t been in a fetal position since I was a fetus.
- OHMYGOD. I didn’t get all the way across. I’m just hanging here over 600 feet of air in the damn mountains. Is it because I couldn’t get into a fetal position? Who do they think I am? Nadia Comaneci? Geez, a sloth is more flexible than I am. And faster.
- I totally love that DH is more afraid than I am. I got this. OHMYGOD. I got stuck again.
And because we survived that, we decided we were total adventure jet-setters and went on another little adventure. It was a bit more tame. Although there could have been sharks. Really, there totally could have been. This wasn’t on our bucket list either. Or was it? I wouldn’t know because I threw it in a fire.
To be honest with you, this is more my speed:
Next time, I’m beaching it. Like a whale, but with a margarita and a book. And well, a little less blubber.
This was a writing prompt from Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop: Write a post inspired by the word “Adventure.”