By donna zephrine, Army
Writing Type: Prose
By Donna Zephrine
When I think of flowers, I tend to think of the outdoors adventures that I have been on. Sometimes my adventures take me too far.
It was the summer of 2015 at Hunter Mountain, N.Y., as part of Wounded Warrior Project. I glanced around the area and was taken aback by the beauty of Mother Nature. The mountains and greenery were something I had never seen before.
But then as I looked closer, I saw the reason why we came to this spot. I could see the way these mountains were connected by thick cable wires. What was first beautiful scenery soon turned to a reason for nervousness and angst. The day started with safety precautions and a waiver that we had to sign. It was then that I realized I may be in over my head.
Zip lining looked fun until it was my turn to go. As someone afraid of heights, let’s just say this wasn’t my thing. We left as a group, and all I could think about was not letting the group down. So I put on my helmet, got on my gloves and climbed up the ladder to Stage 1. I peeked over the ledge and just couldn’t make the leap. The group and the instructor were trying to coach me to jump
I went for it, jumping towards the cable as the momentum took my body through the air.
Eyes watering, legs dangling, heart pounding, I could hear the buzzing of the cable wires as I flew.
I made the mistake of looking down and did not like what I saw. I was suspended higher in the air than I thought as I cruised along the cable wires. The air had a suffocating pressure as my stomach dropped along the initial plunge. As I came to the finishing platform I thought I was going to crash. The instructor had to guide me onto the landing as my legs froze in fear.
When I came to, I told the group that I could not do that again. The next stage would be a point of no return, so I gave up while I could.
Zip lining and I were not meant to be.