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Published: February 12th 2007
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Gene and I decided to put off our Skyline Skyride in Rotorua, New Zealand, until this morning in an attempt to balance our daily budget. We wanted to take the gondola up to the top of the mountain for the spectacular photo opportunities and decided we’d take on a bit of adventure in riding the land luge back down the mountain for kicks. As we stood in the ticket booth area, we read the various advertisements and pricing list and debated taking the gondola up for $27 and a single luge ride down for an additional $7.50. Then, Gene pointed out the package deal - a gondola ride to the top of the mountain combined with 5 luge rides down, totaling $39.00 each. Upon further inquiry, Gene learned that there were three different tracks: scenic, intermediate and advanced. We determined to try our hand at some adventure and signed up for the package deal.
While I had previously heard of a luge, I had no idea what one looked like or how it operated. However, after being dropped off at the top of the mountain, I eagerly picked out a helmet and hopped in line. Within a few minutes, I
had my first introduction with what appeared to be a sled on wheels with bicycle handle bars diagonally extending from the front. The signs surrounding the area read, “No helmet, no ride. Heed all traffic signs.” I was advised by one of the employees that easing forward on the handle bars would release the brake and allow me to move forward, and that pulling back on the handle bars would slow down the vehicle. I was warned not to push the handle bars all the way forward because doing so would engage the brake and, if in motion, I would likely be ejected over the handle bars and onto the pavement. Without hesitation, I decided to go first. Down the hills, around the bend, we were having a blast. Before long, we were at the bottom and raring to go again.
On our way back up the mountain, I uttered, “Gene, I love you.”
“I love you, too, babe.”
“Why today?”
“Because you sped off like a champ without an ounce of hesitation and powered through to the end.”
The intermediate level was a bit more challenging with sharper descents and turns, but a ball
nonetheless. By round four, we were quickly on our way to the advanced track. This particular track proved quite tricky with its steep drops and winding trail. I watched as Gene sped off ahead of me, his weight giving him a greater gain. Finishing second, I was ready to close the final round like a rock star.
I asked, “What is the most effective way to round the curves?”
“Like a race car driver, you want to come into the turn wide and then cut into the turn.”
Jestingly, I said, “Let me go down first this time…that way, if I get injured, you’ll be right behind me.” And off I went…
Off I went all right…over the hill, wide into the curve just like Gene said…
go Speed Racer, go! The curve. Oh shit! The curve! I jerked the handle bars a hard right, but, going about 30 mph, I lost control of the luge and hit the rubber,
hard. Hoping that the rubber would break my speed, I flipped over it and drove straight into the curb, praying that I would soon come to a stop. No such luck. As I became
airborne and caught sight of the green screen tied securely between the two trees ahead of me, I prayed that it would break my fall. The next thing I knew, I flew straight through the screen and was somersaulting downhill. To my blessing, there was another track not far from the top of the hill from which I fell, which ultimately prevented me from toppling any further down the side of the mountain. As I slid the last couple of feet, face down, shirt up to my bra, I finally came to a rest.
Seconds later, Gene was hurdling over the top of the hill, making his way down, screaming, “Are you all right? Is anything broke?”
I lie there motionless. “I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure? Is anything broke?”
Still lying there motionless, waiting for the excruciating pain to set in, I responded, “I think I’m all right.” Then, with a pained grin on my face, “Are you going to take a picture?”
In a panic, “I think I broke the camera. I came to a very hard stop behind you and smashed it against the handle bars.”
I slowly got up
from the ground, elated that I could walk just fine and had nothing to worry about but a number of cuts and abrasions and what I could only imagine would be a number of bruises the following day. A man from another building on the premises emerged shortly thereafter checking to see if I was okay. I subsequently made my way back down the track, by luge, on the scenic track, and made a pit stop in the First Aid Center.
Feeling as thought my ego was a bit bruised as well, Gene convinced me that I still looked as beautiful as ever and was quite the rock star wife. I just might have to redeem myself at the next luge track in Queenstown.
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Aunt Karen
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You ASS!
Pretty, pretty girl..................