So Now I’m Here–
J
ust a moment ago, my heart was
racing. Now, my palms are sweating.
Am I in love? I may be. The exhilaration takes over as I feel like I am flying
through the air. Wait! I am.
There’s nothing between me and the
ground nearly 800 feet below. The wind
in my face awakens my spirit. I let out a
whoop. I can barely hear myself above the
whizzing and whirring of the cable and
pulley just inches from my ear.
I feel a tug, not at my heart strings, but
on the rope and blocking system that slows
me down. It ends. Bravado has replaced my
initial fear. I am now a veteran at zip lining.
This is only the first of eight towers that
I must hike to get to the famed “The Beast.”
I am at Toro Verde or “Green Bull’ an action park in Orocovis, Puerto Rico.
After each ride from the tall pylons, I
get much more comfortable. The guides
clip me into the carabiners.
I get a little push and lurch forward
along with my stomach as I leave the perch.
I put my trust in the guides. I trust them
with my life, period. They are hulking
twenty-somethings who clip on and clip
off with nonchalance as they prepare us for
our rides. They use the cable system for
their daily commute above the jungle. No
cars, no traffic, no worries.
I think that by time the guides fasten
me to “The Beast,” I’ll be an old pro at this.
Earlier, when I arrived, I was fitted
with a sturdy harness with all the clips,
carabiners, straps, bells and whistles one
would want in a safety net. My nervousness
mounted while an aide tugged, pulled, and
tested. “Check it again,” I hear a voice in my
head say. I didn’t need to say it aloud.
Clinking and clanking I follow the
line of other clinkers as we make our way
down the narrow trail. Brilliantly colored
local flowers border the trail. Bees and
hummingbirds flit about. The air is warm
and sweet-smelling. The hike, by design,
helps relieve my anxiety and tension in my
muscles.
“The Beast” or “La Bestia” – is 843 feet
high, almost a mile long at 4,745 feet, and
reaches speeds up to 65 mph.
Seven trips later and I’m thinking I’ve
got this. Or do I? They change it up. The
previous runs had me sitting. Now, they
want me prone. Superman position, facing
down, arms back with strict instructions to
keep the arms tucked. I hold on to the strap
located at my butt. Failure to do so would
slow me down, and I would not reach the
landing platform. I would have to muscle
my way hand-over-hand the rest of the
distance.
Higher, faster, longer, and now, face
down. I feel like a penguin, with my arms
tucked tightly to my side and my feet together. But penguins are flightless. Not so
I. Away I go with the whirring of the wheel
bearings. The ground flashes underneath
me, the sensation of speed is invigorating.
I strain to keep my head up and looking
out straight. In this heads-up position, I
take in the grand view of the Puerto Rican
countryside. I also get to see my landing
zone loom larger and larger with each passing second. Then I feel the thump as the
apparatus slows me to a halt. I’ve kept my
arms in and I reach the terminal without
additional effort being required. Some of
the lighter-weight fliers aren’t so lucky. The
guide speedily clips in and hand-over-hand
deftly reaches the stranded patron. He
returns, rescue in tow, to the security of the
platform.
Since my visit, Toro Verde has installed an even higher, faster, longer
attraction christened “The Monster.” It is
self-proclaimed “the longest zip line in the
universe,” with a 2.5km (2530m, 8300ft,
1.57mi) cable, equivalent to 28 football
fields. I’ll have to make my travel arrangements.
Orocovis is located smack-dab in the
middle of the island. It is a verdant, hilly
geography. The roads to Orocovis are few,
but direct. The drive winds its way through
charming island towns. I am treated to
a pretty mix of local homes, farms, and
tropical flora.
The guide at Toro Verde clips in a flier to the zip line.