When I Say Zip, You Say Line

That was the chant of our tour guide, Patrice Jean, who would guide us through the jungle and up the muddy Anamuya Mountains of the Dominican Republic for our zip line adventure.

This all sounded so fun and carefree when I first mentioned it to my kids a month ago.  Sure, mom will zip line with you! Did I forget that I was terrified of heights?

Patrice Jean told us that we were his “fam il lee” and that he was our poppa.  He would pull coffee bean plants from the open bus and describe how they are harvested.  He would tell us tales of his childhood in Haiti. Twice we got stuck on huge rocks up the slippery mountain, but poppa told us not to worry and we didn’t.

Then we arrived at the top of the mountain and poppa turned us over to the zip line crew. I began to shake as they outfitted me in my harness. I guess there was no way to back out and save face at the same time.  I went over in my mind to keep my elbow pointed, my knees up, my ankles crossed and to only pull down on my brake glove if they signaled me to do so.  If you brake too soon, you have to turn around and manually hoist yourself to the platform. Plus they called you a loser. Before I could psych myself out, I was on the first of 12 platforms and they sent me on my way soaring through the treetops.

I don’t think there’s a word that describes the mixture of fear, exhilaration, elation, and sheer terror that was coursing through my body. The worst (or best) was platform 11, which was one of the longest lines in the world. For a full minute and 17 seconds, I tried not to look down, instead focusing on the sky and the big black bird that circled nearby. Apparently, I missed a beautiful river and amazing views, but all in all, I was happy that I took on the challenge.

I hope poppa was proud.