September 11, 2010
Make no mistake, I was scared about going canyoning. I had no idea whether it would involve technical obstacles for which I lacked either the strength or the coordination to complete, I was worried about being disconnected from my diabetic supplies for the 3 hours we would actually be in the canyon (even though these supplies would be safely contained in the dry bag provided by the guide), and of course I had heard horrible stories about the coldness of the water, to which if you recall my experience with the relatively pleasant water of mid-July Finland, I am extremely sensitive. To give everything away all at once, everything worked out perfectly, and I had nothing at all to worry about.
I met up with the guide and the rest of the 12 or so person group in Balmer's lobby, were given basic instructions on putting on the wetsuit, and each of us was given a helmet with a funny name in magic marker inscribed upon the front. We were informed that these names would be our actual names on the trip that the guides would use to address us, as doing so was much easier than actually trying to remember our names. I chose the helmet labeled "Spartacus" with the hope that at some point I would be forced to say "I am Spartacus," but I was never given this opportunity.
The van ride up was probably the most social part of the trip. Behind me sat 4 extremely tired Italian guys from Bologna (I have reconsidered my judgment of 5 years ago that Italians are unfriendly, as these guys, among others, were extremely warm, friendly and funny), who upon learning that I am from LA and am an attorney, began bombarding me in broken English about the profession as well as about the movie industry. A half misinformed comment I made about the American system of government prompted an American guy sitting in front of me (with his German wife) to correct me, leading to a discussion of American politics, as well as counterinsurgency, the area in which this guy worked. Although he wasn't exactly warm, I was impressed by how well informed he was (much better than I am) about American politics, history, etc., and enjoyed the conversation.
To my somewhat surprise, this canyoning trip took place not near Interlaken (where I would have assumed it would take place), but near Lucerne, a city I had visited during my previous trip to Switzerland. The bus ride was about an hour, the last 20 minutes being a steep incline up the mountains around Lucerne.
We parked on a grassy hill, put on our wetsuits, life jackets, helmets, harnesses (the harnesses were later used for attaching us to ropes and propelling us down cliffs that were too high to jump -- an activity scary enough on its own right), and wet suit shoes. The first leg of othe trip was in some ways the scariest part for me. We walked for about 20 minutes through a forest along a narrow muddy path, riddled with large stones, occasionally requiring climbing over fallen tree trunks or passing poorly maintained wooden bridges. We had been instructed to don our helmets before this walk expressly in light of the danger of falling. For some reason, I tried to not get my boots too muddy, even though I knew that soon my legs, chest, and head would be fully immersed in water. When we arrived in the actual canyon, I was relieved, and also astonished by the beauty of the scenery.
I don't know if I've ever been so deep in a canyon of this sort, steep rock walls on both sides, a river running through that we would follow for the next three hours. The trip started with a medium sized rock slide, to accustom to being wet. It's simultaneously a wonderful and a terrible feeling to slide down these rocks. There's a thrill, obviously, and there's a closeness to nature that you can hardly get doing anything else, but the proximity of sharp, hard rocks, and moving fast without the ability to stop, is quite frightening. But that's part of the point, isn't it?
For the next few hours, we would wade chest deep in water, climb up onto rocks, be directed by the guide how each jump or slide would need to be conducted, look down into the cold, moving water, steel our insides, and leap. Perhaps the most frightening one involved jumping out across a meter or so long chasm, hitting a slippery rock, and sliding down almost vertically.
I recommend this activity actually. When it was done, I felt great, the water wasn't so cold, and the river, and the sky, and the rocks were invigorating.
On the drive home, I spoke again to the Italians (I learned that two of them were part time actors) and the American guy, who, after the topic of youtube was broached, told me that his two favorite videos were the Bed Intruder Song, and the Double Rainbow Song, both of which I had seen for the first time on my first night in Zurich, after having them seen them linked repeatedly by my facebook friends (via checkups on my blackberry).
I opted against the 50 Swiss Franc price for purchasing photos, took a shower, updated blog, and headed down to the Balmers 6-7 p.m. happy hour. I later migrated to the living room to watch a bit of Oceans 12 with some college students studying in Maastricht (one was from Duke, and informed me that he belonged to the fraternity that had replaced Sigma Alpha Epsilon after it was kicked off campus, whoops). I had a long chat with a Canadian veterinary student from Halifax about bovine digestion (did you know that it is the bacteria in their guts that convert cellulose into fatty acids, not enzymes produced by the cow?), cat diabetes (apparently, they sometimes self cure?) and prions (replicating protein clusters that are not denatured even after being exposed to 2000 degree C temperatures!). It was a good chat, and I learned a lot.
The "night club" was uninspiring as usual, but I couldn't resist making another appearance, at the very least for the people watching. At one point I was told that my mustache made me look "French."
Emiliana Torrini -- Big Jumps
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