I'll Try Anything Once: zip lining

Prior Lake American

As a general rule, children don’t fear death.

Most children don’t lie awake at night, pondering the fleeting existence that is the nature of being mortal. So, when someone tells a child to sit on a swing that spins about 60 feet in the air, like a certain ride at a certain amusement park, that child doesn’t imagine the chain snapping and sending him or her hurtling into the earth.

I do.

The concept with zip lining is much the same — the cable seems too small, too snap-able. But I had been dared (assigned by my editor, technically), and this is “I’ll Try Anything Once” — there is no room for fear.

Not to say that I didn’t have to remind myself of that mantra. I had to remind myself when I stepped out of my car and saw the depth of the ravine at Sand Creek Adventures, a zip line and ropes course business in Sand Creek Township. It was at that point I texted my coworker, Shakopee Valley News reporter Amanda McKnight, who was doing the course with me, “Oh it’s scary lol.”

I had to remind myself when I signed the waiver, which had me acknowledge the risk of “physical or emotional injury, paralysis, death, or damage ... such risks simply cannot be eliminated without jeopardizing the essential qualities of the activity.”

I had to remind myself on the platform to the first line, after getting geared up with harnesses and helmets. But then, multiple children flung themselves off the platform and down the line with minimal hesitation. It then became a matter of pride.

I did make Amanda go first — I’m not perfect.

Upon Amanda’s hesitation, our zipline instructor Alan Niebeling asked if she wanted some numbers. Each element of the harness, connector and cable could hold at least 10,000 pounds and some held much more poundage.

“I could send a car down with this setup with you in the driver’s seat and it would be fine,” he said.

At that point, I was imagining a car ziplining and the logistics of how that would work too intensely to imagine the cable snapping and Amanda seemed less worried, so the speech worked. Amanda sat down and let her weight fall into the harness and down the line she went, though not without screaming.

And then I was up. Though my knees felt wobbly, the only goal I had was to get off the platform quicker than Amanda had. I told the people behind me in line as much, so I would have motivation to follow through and then I sat down in my harness and plummeted down the line.

It was exhilarating.

I flew down the line, with Porter Creek 100 feet below me and foliage all around. The wind whipped by and within a few seconds, I reached the next platform and was stopped by the other zipline instructor, Tim Graham.

Though my knees threatened to topple me, I could feel adrenaline surge through me. I had crossed the fear hump and wanted to do it again, as soon as possible. Fortunately, there were two more lines.

“That was great,” I said to Amanda on the second platform. “I just needed to get that first one done and now I’m good to go.”

“It made me more terrified,” she said.

On the second line, I went before Amanda. Though I had said I would do the “run and jump” off the platform that the instructor said we could do and then demonstrated himself, I ended up doing the ol’ “tiny steps to the edge and then slowly sit down and go” move, which was not as impressive.

Once again, it was great. The views of the ravine and wild flowers swept by underneath me and I sped to the third platform. I watched from a distance as Amanda saddled up to head down the line, then let someone else go instead.

That person said: “She said to tell you she might not go down.”

Back on the second platform, Amanda panicked a bit.

“I don’t know, I kind of want to opt out,” Amanda said. “Is that terrible? Oh, it just gives me such anxiety. Maggie is going to be like, ‘when is she coming?’ Who’s going next? Tell her I might chicken out.”

Amanda did indeed chicken out, but laughed afterward and said I could shame her in the newspaper. So, here it is — shame.

Only kidding, of course. One of the main tenets of Sand Creek Adventures is that all participation is a choice. Alan said as much when Amanda said she didn’t want to go down the second line.

I soldiered on to the third and final line. While the second line had the “run and jump” to spice it up, the third had a short, yellow slide that if a person were to go down without a harness, he or she would drop straight into Porter Creek and likely break a few bones in the process.

With the harness though, I went down the slide and the line caught me and sent me beyond the creek and through the trees to the end of the line. I then slid back down, nearly to the creek and then back to the awaiting ladder to step down.

And then it was done. The group trekked up a steep hill (I was more impressed with making it up that then conquering ziplining, to be honest) and turned in our harnesses.

Would I do it again?

Completely — it was so much fun. I want to zipline again here, I want to zipline at the Mall of America, I want to zipline down the Las Vegas Strip, I want to zipline on future vacations. If I win the lottery, I’d pay my student loans and then apply to work at Sand Creek Adventures.

Would Amanda do it again?

“No way, man. I would only do it if I had some sort of control over my speed, like a brake.”