Zipping to the Extreme

by Cathy

As you may have read in my last post, I was off in Cabo last week on a "business" trip. In the midst of what turned out to be more leisure than business, checking in first at this hotel for two days:

Sheraton Hacienda del Mar Golf & Spa Resort, Los Cabos

 Then at this hotel for the final two days:

The Westin Resort & Spa, Los Cabos

 I did something EXTREME.

Of all the words I can think of to describe me, "extreme" is definitely not one of them. In fact, my middle name should be  "middle-of-the-road" or "medium" or "moderation" or "non-extremist". I don't do anything in extremes - I like being right smack dab in the middle. That's where I feel comfortable; that's who I am.

However, my whole Cabo trip was about stepping outside of my comfort zones - traveling alone; being comfortable alone; exploring new places; meeting new people; trying new things - alone. So wouldn't it be fitting that I did something I would not normally be prone to doing within my comfort zones? Yes, it would. So, I did. And what did I choose to do? Zip Lining. Yes, I willingly signed up for the Costa Azul Xtreme Canopy Tour. (Notice, the word Xtreme.)

The funny thing is that I didn't even realize this was an Xtreme sport until I got there and the instructors rigged us up in our harnesses, secured the clips that would support my weight as I dangled hundreds of feet in the air above cacti, burning desert rock and slithering rattlesnakes -  and ran through the drill. That's when I went into full-on panic mode. You see, since I landed in Cabo, where I was trying so hard to take in the beautiful scenery and revel in the ocean air, the looming zip lining activity kept nagging at my vacation state of mind, not allowing me to truly relax. I was so stressed about how I would handle it, I surveyed everyone in my path about it: the guys sitting next to me on the plane, our tour guide, our host, all 12 of the other folks on our tour, the hotel bar waiter, the unassuming couple from Minnesota baking next to me on the pool deck, swimmers wading past me in the pool...

I took diligent note of all the feedback (all of it reassuring and positive and FUN!) and wrestled back and forth between zip lining or just sticking with good old kayaking (I had done it in the past, albeit it was on a river, not the Pacific Ocean) and it seemed "moderate" enough. After conducting my thorough, unscientific focus group,  I decided to just stick with it. This trip was all about pushing my boundaries after all. 'Just buck up and do it, Cathy, dammit.'

On the morning of, I was surprisingly calm. The decision was made and I was at ease with accepting it. Once we got there, I applied my 30th coat of 50 SPF. (I started applying this the minute I woke up that morning because the thought of being up high in the Mexican hills with the Mexican sun beating on my pasty Chicago ass for three hours straight terrified me. In fact, I almost wore a long sleeve and long pants - a tunic and scapular shy of becoming Cathy, the flying, zip lining nun.) I'm sorry, I've gotten some crazy ass looking sunburns in Mexico - painful, ridiculous looking sunburns that could pass for geographical maps and airport runways. Thus, the fear. Not. Good. So I slathered to the point where I could slip right off that zip line. Also, not. good.

What seemed to calm my nerves somewhat is when I spotted grandmas, grandpas and two children (a nine-year old and an 11-year old) in the crowd. Yes, I did ask them their ages. Okay, if they can do this, I can do this. I took the pulley by the horns, stepped onto the platform on the mountainside, crossed my ankles, lifted my knees to my chest, leaned back in my harness and let the guide push me off the edge into the wide open air. I shut my eyes and screamed like a baby...for about 10 seconds.

This was taken by our tour's "Paparazzi" guy. That' me being Xtreme!

Then I realized that the speed was not as zippy as I thought it would be, so I opened my eyes and and took it all in. I thought about what the instructor said: "This is the closest you'll ever get to flying." I saw the Sea of Cortez off in the distance and the turkey vultures (no joke) tauntingly hovering overhead, waiting for me to plunge to my thorny death on that cacti and do what they do best. But seriously, by the end of that first zip line, I was hooked. Literally and figuratively speaking. I wanted more. I wanted higher. I wanted longer. I wanted faster. There were eight zip lines in total and I took in the sensation and exhilaration to the fullest.

All was great until our instructors said there would be a rappelling portion of the tour. Rapelling? Where you dangle off a platform on a rope that you, yourself are controlling and releasing to drop you - or shoot you - down 150 feet onto the ground below all while bouncing yourself off of a jagged rock wall lest you cut up your knees, a la SWAT team style? Too much to think about but since I was on a high from zip lining, I thought, 'What the heck.' But when I saw those go before me and how they were shaking, and pushed off that ledge and saw one lady come back with a rope burn on her hip, my 'What the heck' turned into 'What the hell??'

I was the first one to unclip myself from that wire holding me on that platform, turn on my heel and say, "I'm out. I did what I came to do. This is a vacation. I don't need the stress." Unbeknownst to me, there were twenty others from our group sitting this one out. And wouldn't you know I started a trend. Three more walked off that platform, one by one, after me, while an over-confident dude checked them off, "Another one bites the dust."

Well, that was my point. I didn't want to literally bite that dust waiting for me at the bottom of that cliff. Too much of this activity was left to my physical abilities and sporty know-how, and I was in no position to be fully left in charge during this Xtreme sport.

Overall, I can view this experience as "I chickened out on rappelling" or "I went beyond my comfort zone to the point where I was so proud of myself and felt content at trying something so out of my league."

In my eyes, I chose to fly.