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When I was nine, I was tall. These days, I’m a whopping 5’4, but back then, I exceeded the national average and was taller than the 50 inches required to ride this:
That’s the Giant Dipper at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk, one of the oldest wooden rollercoasters in the country.
My nine-year-old self and adult-self agree that the trauma resulting from this ride explains my subsequent and persistent distaste for free falls. Turbulence on airplanes, rollercoasters, even watching people jump off high rocks into water make me queasy.
Anyway.
Free falls and a plethora of other things grace my list of fears, but one of them is actually not heights. So I was excited to participate in one of the most popular and exciting tourist activities in Costa Rica: ziplining.
See how excited I am? And how small my head looks in that darn helmet? Curse you, tiny head!
