Scary Enough to Wet Your pants

written 7-14-11

My parent flew in to Minneapolis from Louisville today and tomorrow morning they will be taking the kids back to Kentucky with them. We spent the afternoon and evening at the Mall of America.

I had never been before, but what an experience! We ate a place called Kokomo's where I actually hula hooped in the restaurant. You know it’s a fun place when they encourage hula hooping. We stopped into the almighty Lego land and American girl store. It’s a cult-like experience. If you’ve been then you know what I am talking about. Z rode his little heart out in the amusement park area.

But above all the things that will be logged in my mind, the one I will never forget is the Flying Dutchman ropes course.

J wanted to try it and it looked like a fun little adventure. I saw little kids joining in so I knew it couldn’t be that bad. Welllll, let me tell you, it was bad. J and I both thought we were going to loose our lunch. The Flying Dutch is the tallest skyrail ropes course in the world. It’s basically like an obstacle course where you walk across creaky wooden bridges and tight ropes starting at 30 feet above the ground, all the while you are securely fastened to a metal track, but your brain doesn’t know that and who wants to fall in order to gain the assurance that you are not plummeting to your death!? I can’t remember the last time my adrenaline pumped like that. I went up the first set of stairs and walked across a jiggly cable holding onto some ropes above me and when I made it to the other side I announced that I was done! Level one was enough for me, I didn’t think I could go any further, but J said “you can’t quit! You have to keep going. Come on.” That was all the encouragement I needed although he still insisted I lead the way.

By the 4^th story you are 56 feet above the ground and I can’t tell you what the view was like because if I had looked I would have thrown up! J asked one of the workers there if anyone has ever puked and he said not while he was on the clock, but a kid peed his pants earlier that day. I am not at all surprised.

The only thing that got me through was singing as I walked across. I had to get a song in my head each time I stepped off of the security of the sturdy metal columns. The songs ranged from “A whole New World” to “Strangers in the Night” and I sang them out loud not caring whatsoever what anyone might think. At the very end of the 4 levels you have the option to walk a little plank that hovers over the amusement park and pull on some ropes to sound a fog horn alerting everyone that you completed the course. I took a deep breath and teeny tiny baby steps over to the edge pulled the ropes and then had to decide whether to walk backwards or turn around. Here, I am to worship, here I am to bow down… HOLY CRAP what am I doing up here!?

I turned around walked back and then clung to the post for dear life before heading back down the stairs. If you are not the slightest bit phased by heights, I am sure this is nothing, but for J and I it was INSANE, but we did it. We did it together.

This was our reaction afterwards.