“Can someone please help me?”

In the distance a call rang out, someone had not attacked the zipline and were paying the price by hanging in the middle, waiting for a guide to come pull them to the platform. Ha! Silly person. All you had to do was make sure to give a good push and anyone could make it to the other side.

Less than two minutes later I sat, 10 feet away from the platform, waiting for my own guide to come help me. As they say, pride goweth before a fall, but fortunately it was only my ego that was damaged. The treetop course was more challenging than I had assumed, and over the next two hours I would have plenty more opportunities to look silly, struggle to reach my goal, and find new depths of humility. I would also laugh more than I had in a long time, help my friends and allow myself to be helped, watch our kids tackle amazing heights and be surrounded by the beauty that is Tahoe.

The very best overhear of all, after we had finished our time and were getting ready to leave, was when the littlest kid in our group turned to her mom and said, “What are we doing tomorrow? Can we come back and do it again.”

I am pretty sure we all felt the same way.

“They carry a big pipe.”

I admit I am still trying to figure out exactly how a pipe would help climbers pee when they were up on the side of a mountain. The individuals were talking about the risks of belaying, and the story of being below flying, um, garbage came up.

Every sport has its risks. Baseball has hurt elbows. Soccer has hurt knees. Swimming, well, okay, I’m not sure you hurt anything by swimming. But football has hurt everything. Apparently climbing has falling or being hit by falling stuff.
(*picture courtesy of National Geaograhic)

I don’t see myself ever doing mountaineering (a fancy word for saying you are climbing a rock outside). However, I do see myself possibly belaying my daughter as she mountaineers. So, I suppose I should get to know the equipment she will need. Personally, I would want a really big, soft, squishy, mat underneath her. Sadly though I don’t think I would be able to haul it around Yosemite and get it to the base of El Capitan.

Certainly there are more dangerous sports she could have chosen. Take for example, doing gymnastics on the back of a moving horse. Oh yes, that’s right, she does do that. It’s called vaulting and is actually a competitive sport. With her first competition coming up in May, I will get a chance to practice my mat chasing skills. Again, it is pretty
unlikely the judges will want me running behind the horse dragging a big red mat.

I’m not sure how we got here in terms of her activities. Two years ago we were doing gymnastics (okay, a bit dangerous with the high beam and all) and swimming. Still, as I watch my otherwise anxiety prone daughter scale a 40 foot climbing wall, or pull herself up onto the back of an enormous, moving equine I am struck by the sense of empowerment and freedom she must feel.

And although I hope it is years away, I can still imagine her real sense of freedom when her only toilet is the huge pipe hanging below her.