“Adventure sports…”
Shared by Breanne Smedley
A few years ago, back when Brett and I were living the DINK (Double Income No Kids) life, we took a fun trip to Costa Rica.
Nearly three weeks of traveling around, hiking, hot springs, beaches, awesome food, and relaxing.
Also, ziplining…
It’s what you do in Costa Rica, right?!
We thought so, so we booked a tour while we spent part of our trip in Monteverde.
The tour was in a cloud forest, which should have given us a clue about the experience we were about to have.
The zip lining started with a brief (emphasis on brief) safety overview.
“When you see this signal (hand cupped on top of the cable), make sure to brake. If you don’t see it, don’t brake.”
Okay, got it.
The first few trips went great. We zipped from platform to platform, overlooking the lush green flora below.
Every time we would approach a platform, the person waiting would signal to brake.
We followed instructions and would glide on to the platform, ready to zip to the next one.
There were 11 platforms in total.
The 11th being the longest at 1590 meters (almost a mile long).
Up until this point, the distances weren’t even close to a mile long. The rides took about 30 seconds and we were gliding down one at a time.
For the last ride, however, people were being sent down tandem style with a guide.
Makes sense, I thought. A miles seems like a long ride, it’s probably best to go down with a guide.
As Brett and I reached the top of the platform we found ourselves in the thick of the clouds and it started raining. I guess that’s what happens in a RAINforest..
We were next up. The man helping took a look at us, attached our pulleys together, and put them on the top of the cable.
He motioned for us to step up to the edge of the platform with me in front and Brett standing close behind me.
“We’re going together…?” I asked.
He nodded yes.
“What about the guide?” I thought. “Why did everyone else go down with someone who has more than two hours of ziplining experience?!”
Maybe we exuded more competence than we had. Maybe we were big enough to hit the weight needed to go down without getting stuck in the middle.
Whatever the case, we held onto each other as our feet left the platform and we disappeared into the white clouds in front of us.
We started going fast. Faster than any of the other trips before.
I couldn’t see a thing and the rain pelted against my face and began to feel like thousands of needles pricking were into my skin.
All I could do was close my eyes and hope that the clouds would clear before we reached the platform.
The ride seemed like it took forever. But finally, there was a slight clearing where I could see the outline of the platform.
There were a few people standing on it, all looking back at us.
No one motioned for the brake sign.
I remember them saying in the safety briefing that sometimes they won’t signal to brake because it could cause you to get stuck on the cable.
“Do you think we should brake?!” I yelled back to Brett.
“I don’t know!?” He shouted back.
The platform came closer, still no signal to brake.
At this point, I braced myself for impact. There was no way we were slowing down!
We flew into the platform at full speed, screaming.
Our pulley bounced into the end of the cable attached to the tree it was harnessed on.
We shot backwards on the cable about 25 yards.
We then sat, stunned, and stranded on the cable.
The handful of people on the platform and those below walking stopped and stared, looking just as shocked as we were.
Someone came out to fish us back into the platform.
“Estas bien?!” “No brake?!”
“NO ONE SIGNALED!” I shouted, without the patience to figure out how to say it in Spanish.
I left that experience with a few things.
A reminder to trust my gut.
To do my research on adventure sports.
And a large, harness shaped bruise smack dab on my groin.
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#DaringlyResilient
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