Un-Zipped

When Diane suggested going ziplining as a sisters birthday activity, I was all in. I thought it sounded like fun, zipping along over the treetops at the Wilds, a nature preserve with roaming zebras and giraffes and rhinos and suchlike.

My sister, Denise, showing how it's done

Alas, ziplining isn't for everyone.

Meaning me.

I had a strong suspicion as we went through the training session that this was not something I was going to be able to manage. Everyone was very supportive, encouraging me to give it a try.

But it wasn't until I got to the tower, was attached to the line, and told to go that pure terror set in. I've never experienced anything like it before, a sensation so primal, I believe it must have roots in a past life or in my ancestry somewhere. I forced myself to grab onto the hardware that carried me to the next post. But then, as I drew nearer the post, the terror thing kicked in, and my gut reaction was to brake a little too early. I made a clumsy landing, shaking uncontrollably.

For the next zip, we were told to "cannonball" so that we didn't stall on the line. As if I wasn't already afraid of getting stuck halfway along. I did as instructed, but put on the brakes too soon. The instructor was calling out to me to "pull yourself along like we did in practice." I managed to get myself close enough so he could grab my hand and pull me in.

That's when I bailed, assuring my sisters I'd be perfectly fine waiting for them on solid ground.

Back-up was called, I zipped down the escape line, and was assured by the guide that I'd done the right thing.

"Some people wait too long, and it's not pretty," she said, comforting me.

The day was so beautiful, I just enjoyed sitting outside and communing with the birds, the sky and the trees. 

I was proud of my sisters, who finished the course with flying colors and a certificate and full-color photos to prove it.

Once the bus returned us to the car, we snacked on apples and hit the road, with a stop at a nearby bird sanctuary. Diane and I nabbed our binoculars, and it was fun to practice my birdwatching skills...an activity which would have been much more productive if the birds had shown up. Nevertheless, it was a beautiful, quiet spot.

Back in the car, yours truly navigated (don't laugh), and with the help of the duo in the back seat, we found an Olive Garden. We didn't know when selecting our restaurant that it was homecoming weekend, and OG, apparently, is the go-to place. We got to see lots of teens dressed to the nines.  Afterward, we headed for C-Bus, and based on Denise's recommendation, stopped off for ice cream (okay, it was frozen custard), which is part of the sisters tradition.

As always, it was great spending sister time. They're good company.

Honestly, it doesn't really matter to me what we do. I just think it's cool that we can make time to spend together.

Especially when we all have our feet on the ground!

P.S. A special shout-out to Mr. Ginley who, once again, filled in for me while I was off having my adventures.