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Published: March 28th 2011
BA-BUMP. BA-BUMP. BA-BUMP. My heart beat like a drum, mocking me and the words I had overconfidently told my friends before I had started to make my way up the rope ladder that got smaller and higher with each step towards the tiny wooden platform high up in the trees. "Oh please, I could climb this thing without a harness." From the ground, the ladder seemed to go up about 20 feet and looked like child's play. Was it really necessary to clip myself onto the rope every foot and a half? Apparently so because I was gripping the rope so hard that my hands hurt. I realized that the reason my friend Piro had been so quiet when he went before me was because his heart had been lodged in his throat. "PULL. PULL. PULL", I yelled every 10 seconds to Margo who was helping hoist me and my harness up like we were some deranged ship crew. My fingers curled around the edge of the platform and once I pulled my body into safety I realized my legs were shaking. Margo and Jazz decided they couldn't make it. I was on my own up in the naked trees, strapped into a harness that I didn't adequately know how to use. The trouble I get myself into...
I have a fear of heights and yet I love climbing, swinging, and jumping around on rocks, trees, and various structures. My adrenaline will kick in and I'll get to the top of a pile of boulders but then I look below and realize I can't get down. Sometimes I am a retarded cat. I wanted to go to Herb Hillz (how young and hip that Z is) in Daegu because I was craving some adventure mixed with a physical challenge. I'd done ziplines off of cliffs and into waterfalls in Mexico and it had been exhilarating so I wanted to try ziplines and a rope course Korea style. And my god, was it Korean. We signed a paper that probably said we could not sue if we died and were helped into our harness and helmets. A big group of weiguks watched a man babble in Korean as he showed up how to use the various metal clips on us without dying. He moved through a zipline, a tightrope walk, and a rope ladder on a practice course that looked like it was made for toddlers. He spoke fast and moved quickly. I had no idea what was going on. We all had to do the practice course and it was learning through trial and error. The "instructors" had vanished. We were to do this on our own.
It's unreal to be standing on a plank of wood in the air and have no other option but to trust that your metal handiwork will keep you from plummeting to the ground and impaling yourself on the fried chicken stand below. Piro had left me, as usual, and so I clipped my whatdoyoucallit (this was a bad sign) to the line and attached the separate metal clips to the main piece. I mumbled "ohmygodohmygod" to myself as I tested that it could hold my weight. It would be so embarassing to die right now. I went for it and went speeding over Herb Hillz screaming bloody murder. I saw that I was about to hit the green mat roped to the tree to stop me. This looked like it would hurt and it did. I hit it so hard that it sent me flying back to the middle of the line and I had to pull myself back which was TIRING. This happened every time. Poor Ruben was behind me so I always had to see his look of horror when he was about to hit that green mat of pain. But we were all getting the hang of it and had a blast flopping around on rope tunnels, biking across a bridge between two trees, skateboarding while swinging on a rope, walking a last tightrope that seemed to be a mile long, and more ziplinig that ended with me dangling in the middle of the park like bait for a fish. It was spectacular. Everyone was pumped and wanted to go again but sadly our 13,000 won only covered one go. So we ate some fried "chicken" in the chilly evening and then headed to our bus back to downtown Daegu. It was time to get our well deserved drink on.
Daegu has a viiiibe to it. We had been walking for about 5 minutes and I already loved the wide pedestrian roads with an overabundance of shops, food, and bars. The air seemed sweet and the city modern and vibrant. I had a little crush on Daegu. I hadn't felt this way since Busan. We got ready at Green Motel, your basic motel, for only 30,000 a night. The theme of my birthday on the streets of Daegu was "you are what you drink" and so I was soju, Margo was a rum drinking pirate, Jazz was a drink we made up called Bluebird, Sunelle was Wild Africa, Tijana was a cherry cosmo, Piro was red wine, Ruben was Sex on the Beach, Paddy was Guinness, Charlotte was a Black Russian, and Duane was Gatorade. We looked like crackheads. As we walked through our alley towards the bright lights of the main street I realized I was too sober to be walking around in a sequin dress, top hat, and hooker boots. Tijana felt the same way in her red feather boa. We collected many looks and then fate provided us with a mysterious table that was giving away free shots. We started to feel better. The crowd of alcohol was making its way to an Italian place for dinner but we decided we had to stop at every baggie alcohol booth because they are just too tempting. The second place called Go Go had sparklers and they set off a firework that rained on us as we danced around to "Like a G6" and decidedly no longer cared what we looked like. But really we looked like circus freaks as we plopped our bags of neon alcohol on the table of the classy joint where we were eating. It was a wise choice for us to eat outside...We drank wine to up the class factor and my dear friends bought some slices of cake from the bakery for everyone. Wrapped in wool blankets, chatting away, and telling crazy stories, we could have passed the whole night away. But then it got cold and we got restless. Back to the streets we went.
Go Go had a small bar and dance floor downstairs so we went and danced with some Koreans who really enjoyed my top hat and having dance offs with me. The rest of the night was spent in different bars and clubs, the coolest being the bar that had a live band that included a dude in one freaky mask. I remember every moment of it.....
Daegu was sunny and bright as we made our way back to the train station. A green ribbon was tied around my neck as a remnant of the crazy night. I was bruised from getting sacked on the zipline so many times. It's funny that on our birthdays we celebrate by trying to kill ourselves with things like ziplines and tequila shots. Luckily I am still here and perhaps year 24 will be the year I conquer my fear of heights. That or die an epic death that mothers will use as an example of why their kid shouldn't climb up that cliff. Either way, it's been an adventure.
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Faja
non-member comment
fear of heights
Do you remember climbing the pyramid in Chichen Itza? Of course you do - it was scary going up, but scarier coming down. they no longer let tourists climb it.