Do Something Crazy

The Last Resort: August 31
On the bridge before the big jump! Apparently my appetite for adventure wasn't satisfied by paragliding, because guess what I signed up for today? My thrill-seeking tour of Nepal took me to new heights (to the Tibetan border to be exact) for a day of canyoning (rappelling down waterfalls--7 to be exact) and...wait for it...bungee jumping.

Canyoning, and...bungee jumping. That's right. Because hurling myself off a mountain wasn't enough, I'm changing venues to a bridge. And going head-first. And it's non-refundable, so I have to jump. Good lord. James decided to do an overnight hike in the mountains, so I was on my own for this particular adventure.

Yes. This gal right here faced her fear of heights (seriously--I get dizzy if I stand on a chair in my living room) and signed up to jump off a suspension bridge in the middle of a gorge, more than 160 metres in the air, with raging waters below.

I met a med student from Norway (read: McSteamy) on the bus ride there who was also doing the jump for the first time, and we talked the whole way, which didn't give me time to get nervous about what I was about to do.

I had a full day so I wasn't sure which activity I would be doing first--the jump or the canyoning. Luckily, they gave me no time to think and called my name as the first person of the day to jump.

It wasn't so bad on the bridge itself, although it may have helped that I didn't look down once while crossing. Once I was in the middle of the bridge, getting my ankles strapped into a harness that would be my only lifeline preventing me from falling to my death in the river below, the flutters began in my stomach.

"Breathe in, breathe out, and look out at the gorgeous scenery around me," is what I kept telling myself. It's a really interesting exercise in managing your fear, because logically I know nothing can happen--this isn't going to hurt, it's safe, lots of people do it--but that doesn't stop your mind from going crazy thinking of the worst case scenarios.

Once your ankles are strapped together, you penguin-walk your way over to the jumping platform and the bungee cord is secured to your harness. The scariest part of the jump, in my opinion, is the fact that you have to jump head-first. there's no tentativeness allowed here (just my luck).
The jumping platform...see? It's not so scary til you look down. I step out onto the platform and my wall of fear-control disintegrates, and panic takes over. You know that feeling of dread when you get caught red-handed telling a lie? That's the best way for me to describe what it feels like to be on that edge, half listening to the instructions, half thinking about what you want your last words to be. I hear the instructions come to an end, and the guy counts down: "Three, two, one, JUMP!" My legs are frozen. I can't do it. I literally can't make my body perform the motion necessary to move forward.
The last thing I saw before I jumped. He cajoles me closer to the edge, and I am convinced he is trying to make me walk off the edge. "No, I don't think I can do this" I say to him. He reassures me the longer I'm up there the worse it gets...and he's totally right. I take a deep breath, I think about all the scary things that could happen, decide to listen to the part that's trusting everything will work out, and tip forwards into nothingness (a swan dive was out of the question--my legs were jelly).
Me, mid-jump...proof I actually did it! The best way I can describe it is terror combined with elation--so basically what you feel when you go down that first big hill on a roller coaster. The feeling of falling is amplified because you have this narrow canyon wall on both sides of you, and you're watching the angry rapids of the river get closer and closer until suddenly you're being yanked upwards at the last second. Floating through the air, you're so disoriented that the feeling of falling has disappeared, and you're laughing because you can't believe you just did that, and it feels great.

Then you feel the ankle straps move, and terror seizes you again in full force. LOGICALLY, I know I was strapped in tight and wasn't going anywhere. But show me someone who is thinking logically while falling at 150 km/h. I thought I was going to survive the big jump, only to have my harness come loose on the after-bounces and die in the river anyway. How anti-climactic.

I'm flexing my feet for dear life, praying i stay in long enough to be brought down to safety, and finally I'm on solid ground. I have so much adrenaline that I can't stand right away--my legs are too shaky, and I'm laughing so hard I'm crying. It really makes you crazy!

A nice guy I met on the bus (Ash from Nepal, whattup!) was kind enough to take a few photos for me, but I also bought the DVD (as proof that I really did it, because I know I probably won't even believe it in a few years). They had to mail it home to Canada since I left early the next day, but when I get it, you'd better believe you will get to witness the hilarity of a little blonde girl tipping herself off the ledge of a suspension bridge.

Luckily, I had a half-hour hike back up the canyon to get back to the lodge to come down off my adventure high--they definitely fail to mention that part in the brochure--and prepare for my next activity, canyoning (which I cannot BELIEVE I spent money on Crocs for--so disgusted with myself). I changed into my gear--wetsuit, helmet, and Crocs..ugh...and found myself hiking the same trail I had just come up from bungee jumping!
My canyoning gear...minus the heinous atrocity that are Crocs...I was afraid they'd crack my lens if photographed

Canyoning was a change of pace from the morning's adrenaline rush; we rappelled down seven waterfalls of varying heights--I think the biggest was 47 metres. It was fun, but slow since we were a group of 10 and had to wait for everyone to do it one at a time. You get soaked, no way around it, and it made for some great views. At some parts we could even watch others doing their bungee jumps.

All in all, it was a busy, exhausting, exhilarating day, and I wouldn't change it for anything.

Today was one of the best days of my life.

Chitwan National Park Safari

We arrived at Chitwan late at night, so we went right to bed in order to get up early for a full day safari. Chitwan National Park is 932 square kilometers of jungle in the south of Nepal, so we were really in the middle of nowhere. I didn't even ask if they had wifi... The next morning, we got up at 5 am to have breakfast before making the muddy trek down to the riverbank. We got in wooden canoes that were hollowed out tree trunks (and very wobbly--I don't even want to know what was lurking in the water had I fallen in) and set off downstream for some wildlife sighting.
The canoe we used for the morning safari

We saw some kingfishers, herons, peacocks, and then something moved to my left. Something BIG. I look over (we had to be silent or else we'd scare the wildlife away) and there is a MASSIVE crocodile lying on the riverbank, maybe 10 feet away from the canoe. Had to be at least twenty feet long. You know that feeling of terror you get when you watch scary movies? (No? Just me? alrighty then) Well. I held my breath until we had passed the danger zone...those things are notorious for being deadly still until they strike, and then you have no chance. Seeing as it could've easily bit the canoe in half, I am very glad it prioritized suntanning over eating small Canadians.
<Croczilla on the riverbank

After that hair-raising experience, we stopped by the elephant breeding centre in the park. It was kind of a let-down, as there wasn't much explanation given, and the elephants were all chained to posts in a row. Not sure what they're trying to accomplish here, but happy elephants is certainly not the priority.
I did get some cool photos of the elephants, though...

My elephant bathing experience On our way home, we stopped by another part of the river and took an elephant bath. Now. For those of you unfamiliar with this term, it quite literally means you sit on the elephant's back, and an elephant bathes you, by drawing water into his trunk and then soaking you. Or spontaneously dunking underwater and you hang on for dear life. Great fun, although I don't want to think about what was in the water I was being sprayed with...
Getting dunked by my elephant.

We had some down-time for lunch before we headed back into the jungle that afternoon for an elephant safari. They set four of us on each elephant--let me tell you, boarding one of these things is not like getting on a plane. There is some serious maneuvering involved. Once it started walking, we quickly realized this would not be a tranquil activity. The lurching is so bad I had bruises on my arms from hitting the bars holding us in. Not sure what the maharajas were thinking when they decided to use pachyderms as their preferred method of transport...
My attempt to board the plane...

Once you get over the motion of the ocean, so to speak, it's actually a really cool experience, because the elephants can just walk right through dense jungle that would take ages to cover on foot. we were really in the thick of it, but had been walking for a while, and there was no guarantee we'd see anything on this trip--the park ranger said the last time he saw a tiger was in February, and he lives here.

All of a sudden, there was movement in the bushes. We amble over and come face to face with the rare one-horned rhino, a mother and her baby. It was amazing--we came so close I had to lift my legs out of the way for them to walk by. Luckily, Ace Ventura did not make any appearances, so I'm 99% sure they were real rhinos. That made the entire trip worth it, and it's completely different seeing one of those in the wild versus at the zoo; it was such a spontaneous moment, we had no idea it was going to happen. No tiger sightings, but considering there's only eight of them in the whole park, I didn't get my hopes up anyway. Seeing the rhinoceros that close was enough for me.

A close encounter with a one-horned rhino We capped the evening off by watching the sun set over the river, thinking about how lucky we were to have seen what we saw today.

Paragliding in Pokhara

See that dirt behind me? That's the runway. Pokhara - Aug 29

I definitely did not realize when I signed up for paragliding that in order to paraglide, one must run at full-speed off the side of a mountain. Or that the only thing keeping you from falling to your death are nylon strings about two millimeters in diameter. What seemed like a leisurely activity in the guidebook suddenly seemed more like a death wish. But I came to Nepal to try stuff like this, so I'd be damned if I chickened out.
Me and my pilot, mid-flight

So, that led me to the top of a mountain with a very steep incline and a lot of wind. Nevertheless, when my pilot said to start running, I ran. Miraculously, it worked, and we were airborne. We drifted over the valley and through the mountains for about half an hour, catching thermals and enjoying the bird's eye view--literally. It was a ton of fun; kind of relaxing actually! Once I realized I wasn't going to crash, that is. I think I would've felt a little differently if I had been the one steering.

For those of you too scared to try it, here's what you can see from up there

In the afternoon, I had signed up for a pony trek, which I thought would be a great way to see some mountains other than just by hiking. Turns out, a pony trek in Pokhora means a little boy brings you a horse, tells you to get on, then leads you--on foot--down the main road by the lake. No mountains. No trekking. Why didn't he have his own horse? I could've walked faster than the pace we went. Maybe it'd be fine for someone who's never ridden before, but I was excited to get into the mountains! Definitely didn't happen. Oh, and my horse was also the laziest creature I have ever seen. He was incapable of galloping, so it was either walk at the pace of a snail, or trot, which as some of you know, is not the most comfortable thing in the world, even if you know how to ride. Now picture three hours of trotting. Needless to say, my bum was in rough shape the next day (get your minds out of the gutter).

We were on a tight schedule so we packed up the car right after and made the drive to Chitwan National Park (no guerillas this time, LUCKILY.)

So, overall, the verdict: Paragliding? Thumbs up. Definitely worth it. Pony trekking? I want my 50 bucks back. Pokhora was gorgeous and I wish we had more time there.

KathmanDO

I arrived in Kathmandu today and it instantly felt like a breath of fresh air (in more ways than one). It's all the things I liked about India, without the crowds or pollution. And there's other white people! So the locals don't stare at you when you walk down the street (although I did manage to score a free meal on the plane from the male flight attendant who wanted to know if I would be interested in a long-distance relationship). We kind of went a little nuts with the activities, so here's a quick rundown of my next four days: we drive to Pokhora tonight. Tomorrow morning is paragliding in the Himalayas, followed by a day of horse trekking through the mountains. After that, it's off to Chitwan National Park for an elephant safari to see tigers, rhinos and crocodiles in the wild. Back to Kathmandu after that, where we have a day to chill. My last day will be spent rappelling down canyon waterfalls and throwing myself off a platform higher than the Burj Khalifa (and it's non-refundable, so I have to jump. Good lord. Why did I sign up for this?!)

Just wanted to let you know what I'll be up to, since I may be too busy being adventurously awesome to write about it til it's over. Alright here's hoping I survive my first Himalayan experience! Cheers.