Don't Let Fears Get in the Way of Happiness

June 2016

Imagine sitting on the edge of a cloud, high up in the sky, surrounded by snow capped alpine peaks. You are suspended by some kind of harness strapped around you. You see your feet in two sneakers below you, firmly planted on a step attached to a 7,000 foot mountain cliff, above the sequoia and redwood forests. You tentatively step down on the third of four steps, leading to only brisk fresh air and bright blue sky.

You are about to lift up both feet in the air, which will send you flying across the sky at speeds faster than a bird or train. But before becoming a superhero, you say, “Now, how did I get here again?”

In the summer Whistler becomes a mountain biker’s paradise, and there was a competition of warriors dressed in colorful futuristic armor - fancy knee pads, elbow shields, and pointed helmets. They had very expensive looking mountain bikes with thick studded tires, and were riding up the gondola and racing down the steep dirt slopes. Along with the mountain biking crowd, there were also yogis gossiping about their new skin clad yoga tights (don’t tell them you could see through the butt), and hula hooping to live guitar music, as there would be a yoga festival there called Wanderlust in a few days.

When we arrived, we heard of a new zipline opening on Thursday of that week, called the Sasquatch (the mythical monster also called Bigfoot, or the Abominable Snowman in some parts of the world). It was advertised as the tallest, longest, fastest zipline in North America. It would connect two of the highest mountain peaks, Blackcomb Mountain to Whistler Mountain, at altitudes of 6,000 feet, at speeds of 60-70 miles per hour, sometimes from as high up as 600 feet.

“Who would be crazy enough to even think about doing something like this? “ we said to each other.

So begins a story about fears, and whether or not you are willing to face them. But, this is not only a story about fear; this is also a story about a zipline. What is a zipline you say? Imagine a cable attached to two mountains, and you ride on it, and fly through the air. You are attached with a harness. They take you up on a chairlift, and you walk to the edge of a mountain to a platform. There are then four steps to nowhere. As soon as you lift your feet up, in a few seconds, you are flying at 60 miles an hour across the sky. Sound tempting? Or terrifying?

We had just spent a gloriously long Wednesday hiking the snowy peaks atop Whistler. We rode the world’s longest Peak to Peak gondola, and then took a very scary chairlift called the Peak Express to arrive at Whistler’s majestic summit. However, every single second of scariness paid off because of the beautiful scenery. That evening, we ate at the Mongolie Grill, where you select the raw ingredients and the chefs sautée it in front of you, flipping your mushrooms and chickpeas high up in the air, and then fancily catching them in a nest of sizzling bean sprouts. While enjoying our sautéed vegetable ragu and sipping rosé on the outdoor balcony, Nicu and I remembered that the Sasquatch Zipline would open precisely tomorrow.

Nicu said, “You know, maybe we should try that Sasquatch zipline. If we can do that, we don’t have to be scared of doing anything, ever again.”

“If we did that, we could look back whenever we were faced with something frightening, and say, if I could do that zipline, I can definitely overcome my fear of public speaking, of teaching a Zumba class, of starting a magazine.” I said.

It sounded like the most amazing thing to do. But at the same time, it seemed unfathomable, like the scariest thing in the world. To take such a risk required some pondering.

Enter Thursday morning. We ate our shredded wheat with soy milk and banana on the balcony, watching the gondola pass by, and couldn’t stop thinking about the Sasquatch Zipline. Should we do it? Shouldn’t we do it? If we did it, imagine the stories we could tell people. It would be the highlight of our year. However, all of these things would require actually taking a leap off of a 6,000 foot mountain peak and flying across a cable at the speed of 60 miles per hour, attached by a small carabiner, and flimsy harness which could spin around or upside down. The zipline was tandem, so at least we would be side by side through this experience, doing it together, no matter the danger.

As it was opening day, there were no YouTube videos to watch or TripAdvisor posts to read about previous zipliners’ experiences. Was it safe? We don’t know. We would be the first people riding it.

If we did not do it, would we wonder for our entire lives, “Should we have done it?” Would we lie on our deathbed like Tolstoy’s Ivan Ilyich thinking, “What if my whole life has been wrong? What if I had been meant to ride that zipline, and didn’t do it?”

It cost about $100 each for the ticket. If we went ahead and booked the tickets online, there would be no turning back, right? We wouldn’t want to chicken out and lose $200. Right? We still weren’t entirely sure this was enough guarantee we would do it.

So, we did what we thought was needed next; we sought the advice of Nicu’s mother in Romania over the Skype. She said “Da! Yes! Go for it! When else will you get an experience like this?”

“But, Kathleen is scared,” Nicu said.

Silvia replied in Romanian that I should be brave, “curajos”. I don’t think she fully comprehended how scary this zipline was, that it was the highest, longest, fastest zipline in North America. How could anyone really comprehend this, until they were standing on the platform of four steps leading to nowhere on the edge of a cliff, with their hearts in their stomachs, asking each other “Are you sure we should do this?”

So, I hit the purchase button on the zipline website, and we were signed up for the 2pm ride on the Sasquatch zipline. We would have to go a bit early to get our helmet and harness. We also decided to rent GoPro cameras for our helmets, so we could prove that we did it. We were so busy suiting up, we didn’t have time to get scared. And then…we were off!

As we signed the liability paperwork at the base of Blackcomb, the young woman told us we were the only two people signed up for the 2pm time slot to ride the zipline. We then chatted with the chairlift attendant for what seemed like a few minutes, postponing the inevitable ascent up the mountain.

“Have you tried this zipline yet?” Nicu asked.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve done the smaller ones, but that one seems a bit too much for me.” he said.

“Will we go upside down?”

“I don’t know. But it sounds awesome! Come back and tell me what it’s like! I’m stoked to hear about it!”

We sat on the chairlift, waving to the people coming down on the other side. They thought they had achieved a great feat just by riding the chair up and down, to view the breathtaking scenery.

We then looked under the chair, and saw… a black bear! Luckily we were high up in the chair, and for one small moment, breathed a sigh of relief and felt safe…. until we realized that we soon would be jumping off a 6,000 foot cliff and riding 60 mph attached by what seemed like a clothespin to a high wire, flying at the same level as an airplane. That must be why they told us not to keep anything in our pockets.

We got off the chair and I turned my camera on and started filming, as the guide helped us step into our harnesses. “You probably want to turn that off, to save the battery for the zipline ride.” He said. The battery was fully charged. Yet, probably he was as scared as we were. His fear was of liabilities.

We climbed into a van, and a blonde boy drove us up a very steep dirt road circling around and around the steep mountain, until he dropped us off, alone, at a point amidst some very tall trees.

Together, Nicu and I turned on our cameras again, and started walking down the rough path. “Is this tight enough?” We each stopped and tightened the straps on each other’s harnesses, as Nicu’s mother had advised. We came to a very tall bridge, where I walked hesitantly, to the edge. This bridge in itself was very intimidating, a thin strip suspended high in the treetops, leading to a sky-scraping platform. There were two sections of the platform, and one assistant for each of us, to tighten our harnesses and connect us to the small pulley and carabiner (small metal D shaped loop), which would carry us across the sky.

“I’m so scared!” I kept inadvertently telling the woman who was assisting me.

“Is this tight enough? Is this going to hold me? Will I spin around? Will I go upside down?” I asked.

It appeared that Nicu had asked the very same questions on my left hand side.

“Yes, dear, you’re going to be just fine.” My assistant answered in a very endearing Scottish accent. “Make sure your sunnies are on your face though, because they might fly off.” At the moment, I was not concerned about my $9.99 sunglasses from TJMaxx.

“You guys are going to love this, I can tell!” Nicu’s male assistant said from the left.

Once we were tightly strapped in, my assistant opened a small gate in front of me, revealing a wire sloping downward at a very sharp angle into the clouds, and four steps leading to nowhere….

As with many things in life, the most difficult part is often just starting something, taking action. Taking those first few steps is often the scariest thing, whether it’s trying a new diet or starting a new business. But taking those steps often lead you to the euphoric exhilaration of not only success but the sheer thrill of having overcome your fear. And it’s true, it’s not about getting to the top of the mountain, as we had already gotten there, but the best part is the journey itself, enjoying each moment along the way.

And so, I kept reminding myself, because for the life of me, I could not gather the courage to step out onto even the first of the four steps. I was sitting in my harness, and I felt as if I let go of my feet I would start flying down the wire. (As, the way you go down the zipline is to lift up both of your feet.)

“You have to go honey. We are all scared at some time.” My assistant guided sweetly.

I managed to get down to the first step at least and looked to my left at Nicu. I said in all seriousness, “Are you sure we should do this?”

He was also having difficulty getting to the second step, holding onto the platform for dear life. “I am not going without her” he said, looking tentatively towards me on the right.

I was so scared, that I was unable to cry. My hands were shaking and sweaty. I was worried that if we didn’t go soon, I might lose all sensation in my hands, and no longer be able to hold onto the short handlebar attached to the pulley and carabiner. Nicu finally made his way to the fourth step; I only made my way to the third.

“You’re gonna love this!” his assistant repeated. “I can tell! Now, we are going to count down, from three to one. Then you will lift up both feet, and go.”

I looked at Nicu on my left. I realized that if I did not let go at the same time he did, we would not be beside each other on the way down the tandem zipline. And what if he went, and then I chickened out? So, we would have to go together. This gave me the courage, on the count of ”Three, two, one!”

We both lifted up our feet…and the rest is an eternal scream. “AAAAHHHHHH!” (not sure how many A’s and H’s I could possibly add for the desired effect). I think I may have gone into a coma at the first descent; it was like the most treacherous roller coaster dip. I think my heart sank into my stomach. Then as the wire plateaued, more level with the clouds, I gained confidence.

I was flying; this was the best experience of my life, and I wanted this moment to last forever! I screamed now not with fear but with delight. I was soaring high amongst the snow capped Rockies, with turquoise glacier lakes and forests below me. I had to remind myself, those are not blades of grass below me, but huge sequoia and redwood forests. I remember at some point screaming “This is the best thing I have ever done in my life!”

However, Nicu was not there to hear me. Being a bit heavier, he zipped down before me at the very beginning, and was no longer in sight. I saw him spin around and he actually went down backwards. (He said the view was just as great that way.) I held on and swam my legs a bit at first to keep myself going forwards. I didn’t want to go backwards, or worse yet, upside down! However, I suddenly became free from all worries. I was flying, not like a bird, but like my Honda Civic, at 60 miles per hour! The pulley made a deafening sound, as the carabiner scraped and whizzed along the zipwire. I did not stop screaming until two minutes later, when the assistants at the bottom pulled the brake, and I gradually landed, floating down to a ladder where they disconnected me.

“We did it!” Nicu said to my left, as they also unhooked him. “My body feels funny,” he said.

I was shaking my arms and hands, as they were pins and needles with the resulting exhilaration, and adrenaline rush. It was one of the scariest and one of the best experiences I’ve ever had. Now if I get nervous about public speaking or teaching a class, or launching a new project, I can think back to those steps, and how I just let go, and enjoyed the ride. I remember how courageous I am, in riding that zipline and in each challenging moment I face in life.

Sometimes we are scared about starting something new, or having a new experience. Just like with the zipline, the hardest part is taking those few steps off the platform. As you pursue happiness, don’t let fears stop you from getting there.