tasmania, part 2

Imagine with me. A lovely tasmanian forest. A bright, sunny morning. Echidnas and wallabies search for breakfast. A yellow-tailed black cockatoo makes her presence known overhead. Peaceful, right? I'd even suggest serene.

It was not to last.

The first one was an baby one, they encouraged. Just 10-15 meters. Easy-peasy. And it was. It was fun and delightful. The second one was not so bad either, although at the end of it we were suddenly 26 meters/85 feet off the ground discussing the "sturdiness" of the platform we were standing on. Hm. Hands a little shaky, we moved on. This time, it was a short run, very short--do not be fooled, they warned--this was one of the fastest. To be sure we didn't miss the end we had to break ourselves until half way. Vincent took that as a sign to be a bad-ass. Dad too. I took it as a sign to value being alive. We forge ahead and meet the longest one. We have to traverse a river valley--400 meters/1,313 feet long--and look for gigantic crayfish. I didn't see one but I didn't die either, so I'm marking that as in the "win" column. And at the very end we had to simulate a free fall and resist the urge to grab onto anything. I did anyway. Eh.

Even so, I think it's safe to say we'd all do it again--what a great adventure.