Learning the Ropes

(Photo compliments of my friend Ron) “You must do the things you think you cannot do.” ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

I’ve been much more joyfully curious and appreciatively accepting this week.

Steve and I awoke on Sunday and agreed to head up to the beautiful Kootenai National Forest.

After sharing a plateful of scrambled eggs and a piece of buttered toast, we jumped on the Goldwing and braved the cool morning weather.

Brisk winds pushed us toward the Cabinet Mountain range as our chilly bodies became slowly warmed by the sun.

It was one breathtaking snapshot after another: a spectacular ride across the 2400+ ft. Lake Koocanusa bridge, a mountainous panoramic view of the Idaho, Montana & Canadian borders; and a colorful rainbow trellis peaking through the crystal waters of the Yaak River Falls.

It was beauty at its best and a great warm up trip for our upcoming fundraising Ride for Hope next month.

Just a few days later, I joined a group of 11 from the resort for a fun trek in the trees. I had no idea what to expect. I only was told to dress in comfortable hiking gear.

Imagine my surprise when three outdoor guides brought us to a training camp, partnered us up, fitted us with climbing gear and told us to practice belaying from one “pretend” tree to another.

As I tightened the safety harness around my waist and thighs, nervous energy began to build amongst the group.

What was I getting myself into now?

“Just be sure you work together as a team.” a guide advised.

I made a mental note of it as we hiked up a ½ mile trail and stopped at a man-made ladder in the middle of the woods.

I looked up to see several 2-by-4’s suspended side-by-side creating a 700 foot boardwalk connected by cables that hung from tree to tree.

“Our job is to safely get across,” a second guide said.

“When you step down it’s going to feel like you’re walking on a boat floating in water,” the third one added.

The resort's Sales Manager nervously took her first step onto the swaying bridge and “clipped in,” as they say.

“Ahhh,” she shrieked as her knees began to buckle. “This is bloody ridiculous.”

My partner, Terry, began to tremble.

“I’m scared,” she said, turning her face to me and the two guys that followed behind.

I cupped her face gently in my hands.

“Terry” I insisted. “You’re just excited. You’re not scared.”

“You’re just excited,” I repeated. “Now keep telling yourself that, because we need to get across.”

Terry gulped then courageously nodded.

She lifted herself onto the platform and extended her first crab claw out toward the cable.

“Yellow on belay,” she quavered.

“Belay on,” I confirmed. “You’re doing great.”

Once Terry’s ropes were securely fastened, I hoisted myself up and took my first step onto one of the oscillating boards.

Just as the guide had instructed, it began to swing under foot.

Inexperienced climbers are often called “gumby’s,” but I felt more like a bird that had just overindulged in the fermented fruits of the mountain ash berry trees...

Talk about a drunken feeling!

Terry grimaced from up ahead. -- A dangling steel cable had snagged her perched sunglasses from right off her head.

I watched as they plummeted over 50 feet to the ground.

“Breathe in the nose and breathe out the mouth,” I urged.

Belay on. Belay off.

Higher and higher we went until we were suspended 70 feet in the air.

As I pulled myself up the last ascending ramp, one of the two guys behind us thought it would be funny to start jumping up and down.

The boards became so unbalanced I could barely keep a steady grip.

Somehow Terry managed to traverse to the highest platform and then got brave enough to turn around and start jumping back.

I was monkey in the middle of a flimsy floored teeter totter, and the inclining wobble was so steep that I was at the end of my rope (literally!)

The jolt of each jump pulled my safety harness tighter and tighter until I was nearly lifted off my feet.

“That’s enough please,” I pleaded as I yanked at the rope riding up my crotch. “I feel like I’m being split in half.”

The two kept laughing and jumping, when suddenly a plank beneath our feet abruptly busted off the nearest tree!

Crrrack!!

Terry began to scream.

A guide in front of us started shouting that there was nothing to worry about, as the “jokester” behind me stopped frozen in his tracks.

Surprisingly, I remained calm.

Perhaps I was just in shock?

When were were safely back on the ground, Terry addressed me to the group, “I watched you when that board broke, Michelle, and you didn’t even yell. -- You just stood there like everything was fine.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

Had this happened even three years ago, I would have seriously screamed my head off and then started madly crying and going into a panic attack.

I would have fallen to my knees and crazily envisioned my body crashing beneath the trees. -- The only way to get me down would have been to pry me from the boards.

My, how far I’ve come!

It’s difficult to even put this into words.

Though the word fearless seemed a bit fitting for this experience, my Higher Power tells me I was “an intrepid spirit” that day.

Intrepid means “resolutely fearless” -- Resolutely means “set in purpose; characterized by firmness and determination, as the spirit, temper, actions, etc.” (Webster’s)

I'm very much enjoying this new me!

...........

ETE