South African Journal: In the Trees

Years ago, at a carnival, I made a deal with my daughters.  I'd go on one ride on a Ferris wheel but they could never again ask me to go on a ride involving both feet being off the ground at any particular moment. (I've been petrified of heights all my life).  Problem was: I didn't include my wife in the deal!

So, when we were traveling from Cape Town to Port Elizabeth, South Africa, Barbara felt perfectly justified in booking a tree canopy tour for the four of us.  And, when she announced this to us, my daughters turned to me in unison and dared me with their stares to wimp out.  In one of my stupider moments, I kept my mouth shut and faintly nodded my acceptance. Hey, how bad can it be - kids climb trees all the time, don't they?

When our guide explained to us that theirs was a fail-safe cabling system capable of of supporting two tons with a back up system that would support 800 pounds, it did nothing to assuage my growing panic (does pulling in one's paunch make one lighter?). When he went over this for the third time I was wondering if he'd sell us a Rolex next.

Granted, at 100 ft. above the ground we were well out of reach of various predators who wanted us for breakfast, but somehow this didn't give me the sense of satisfaction that you'd expect it would. (How high do leopards climb, anyway.  Did that vine just stick out its tongue?).

Well, you learn something new every day. What I learned from this day:

• There appears to be no difference between 100 and 1000 ft.
• On the edge of death, the life that flashes before you is blurry and looks like a bunch of leaves
• the difference between a smile on my face and a grimace brought on by shear terror is imperceptible to the casual observer

   Early on, Barbara seemed in ungrasping euphoria, until the reality was grasped.

(On to the animals)