|The tensioned line is a beautiful thing to behold. Ninety meters long, with eighty of those meters stretched high above the pounding, swirling foam. The launch platform is nearly ten meters higher than the landing, promising a fast, gravity powered flying fox ride rather than the creeping drudgery of a traditional Tyrolean. We stick with the name “Tyro” as it sounds far more extreme than flying fox. Now all we need is a safety test. A more professional outfit might use an inanimate test subject..........“where's the young bloke?” Steve is champing at the bit, and requires no encouragement. He fires off on a wild ride, gains impressive speed, hams it up for the camera, and fails to notice the proximity of the sharp rocks at the other end. Hmmmm, maybe we need to let a little of the tension out of the line. Steve probably won't require stitches in that leg.
So now its crunch time. Dan, Clinton, Simon, Stuart and I are sitting on the grass slope behind the highside A-frame. Clinton is a bit edgy. He's trying not to show the stress, but almost a years worth of planning has gone into this moment. Clint has fixed his gaze on the line and has real determination in his eyes. I'm more nervous than I have been in a while. Its been a great weekend, but whether we remember it as success or failure is very much hinging on what happens next.