Summer School

Treetop tremors

By Jennifer Koski

It always sounds like a good idea at the time.

When a friend first told me about the rope course at Eagle Bluff Environmental Learning Center, I had this vague image of myself climbing rope ladders and swinging through the trees like Tarzan—only wearing more clothes. “Fun!” I said. “I’d totally do that!”

When I suggested that I’d do the “ropes course” for this magazine, I went so far as to say, “This looks exciting ...”

Only after I landed the assignment did I download the flyer from Eagle Bluff’s webite and discover that “ropes course” is code for “High Ropes Challenge”—and it requires participants to walk 30-plus feet above ground on what appeared to be dental floss. It did not look exciting. It looked terrifying.

Yet there I was a week later, pulling into Eagle Bluff’s 80-acre forest and bluff campus at 10:30 on a Friday morning—ready to conquer my fears.

Only I still wasn’t exactly sure what a “ropes course” was. Luckily, Sara Sturgis, Eagle Bluff’s education director, was ready to answer my questions.

I learned that Eagle Bluff actually has three different rope courses. Each one consists of several small platforms ranging from 30 to 37 feet off the ground. In between each platform are the “events”—such as narrow log bridges, plank-like ladders and lengths of cable—that you walk across.

“It’s great for pushing your boundaries,” enthused Sara. “It helps you meet challenges.”

The longer she talked, the more nervous I got.

“Do you need to be fit to do this?” I interrupted.

“You need some upper body strength,” she answered.

“I have no upper body strength!” I hollered. “I had to do this circus school thing once where I had to lift my body onto a trapeze and I just about killed myself.”

Sara shook her head. “You’ll be fine. As long as you can stand upright and walk, you can do the ropes course.”

The truth is the ropes courses are used year-round for Eagle Bluff’s residential student programs—which means that fourth-graders regularly complete the courses as part of class activities. I couldn’t let a group of 10-year-olds show me up.

Brent Anderson, my guide, helped me get my gear on—including a waist harness, two safety straps that attach to the harness, and a helmet. (I knew I shouldn’t have bothered doing my hair.)

Once I was geared up and we’d gone over the surprisingly few safety rules, there was no more stalling. It was time to commune with the treetops.

As we approached the wobbly plank-and-cable ladder that led to the first platform, Brent said, “We always ask the kids, ‘What’s your goal?’ before they start. Their goal may not be finishing the course. It may just be getting through the first event.”

“My goal is to finish,” I said decidedly.

And suddenly it was time for me to prove I could. Strapping my safety straps’ carabiners to the ladder’s cables, I climbed to the top of the first platform. Once there, I assessed the first event—a log bridge. Spanning approximately 20 feet between two platforms, it rose over tree branches, foliage and breathtaking views of the landscape.

Or so I’m told. I didn’t actually look.

I was so scared on that log bridge that I could feel my heart beat. White knuckles gripped my safety straps—which I’d connected to two overhead cables. And I must’ve been producing incredible amounts of saliva, because I couldn’t stop swallowing. For possibly the first time in my life I knew exactly what it meant to have adrenaline exploding in my veins.
Halfway across the log bridge I thought, “I’m not going to be able to finish.”

But to Brent I said, “Should I be looking ahead or at my feet?”
“If you’re nervous, it’s probably best to look straight ahead,” he said.

If you’re nervous. Funny.

When I reached the second platform, my legs were still shaking. But—glory hallelujah—I’d made it. I went straight to work moving my carabiners. This involves reaching over to detach your safety straps from the overhead cables of the last event so you can move them to the overhead cables of the next event. It’s just a small detail that prevents you from falling 30 feet to your death while traversing the course.

It turns out the log bridge was the easiest event. The second event—the cherry picker—was the hardest. The idea is to walk along a narrow cable, barely wider than a clothesline, while clinging to hanging ropes. “So you’re supposed to grab onto those ropes and go from one to the other?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Brent. “It’s the most challenging.”

“Yah… I don’t think I’m going to do that.”

It may be considered cheating that I clung tightly to my safety straps instead of the hanging ropes,  but I assure you it was still a challenge. When I finally stepped off the shaking cable and rested my shaking arms, I literally hugged the pole on the third platform.

I slowly became more comfortable with the course. In fact, I even allowed myself to stop and gaze over the Root River during the last few events. During one—the plank bridge, I think it was—I actually watched an eagle fly across the treetops.

The reward for getting through all six events—in addition to a sense of accomplishment—is the zip line that completes the course. At the final platform, I strapped my carabiners to a special hoop on an overhead cable and took a literal leap of faith off the platform. An exhilarating 20-second ride through the sky later, I was back on solid ground.

I surprised myself by being disappointed that my adventure was over. In fact, if Brent hadn’t looked so anxious to get to lunch, I might’ve requested a “redo”—to make sure I had enough info for the story, of course.

So here’s what I’ve learned about trying new things—especially new things outside my comfort level. They sound like good ideas at the time… because they usually are.  They are terrifying and exciting and they make you feel alive. All in all, not a bad way to spend an afternoon.