So, if and before that anxiety transformed into dreaded reality, it was time for us college friends to experience some extreme fun together. The option that came charging at us was some extreme sports. Bungee was a unanimous choice.[break]
“Imagine a bridge over a 160m-high tropical gorge, with the Bhote Koshi, one of Nepal’s wildest rivers, raging below... Now jump!”
Just reading these lines and checking out the pictures on the webpage for The Last Resort had us all exhilarated and counting days impatiently.
With the trip planned out and everything taken care of by the Resort, all we had to do was show up at their office on time. So, by 6:30 in the morning, even the lazybones of our group had arrived, pumped up for the day of adventure.
In the bus, Alex McPherson joined our group with his friend Bal Krishna. We got talking, and boy, didn’t Alex look scared!
“I admit I’m scared. I won’t deny,” Alex declared, for the first time for the day, and more of it came later.
Like Pema dai, our experienced guide, had predicted, we reached the Last Resort in exactly four hours. As soon as our bus came to a stop, we hastily disembarked towards the suspension bridge built over the 160m gorge. This bridge would lead us to the resort set amidst the beautiful terraced hills, and the same bridge would be the drop zone for our freefalling experience.
I’d read that the jump at the resort was the third highest in the world. Standing on the bridge, I realized that I was beaming and glad to know that the height wasn’t intimidating me as much as I’d imagined it would. As I leaned on the rails and had the full view of the deep gorge for the first time, I couldn’t wait to take that jump.
But I had to wait, and wait long. First, we had to go through the briefing. Alex, seated before me, was starting to change colors, from white to pink, and breathing sort of fast.
“You girls look as cool as cucumbers,” he commented and quickly added with a grin of satisfaction, “Look at your legs, though.” Apparently we too weren’t being able to control our fidgeting feet.
After being numbered according to our weights and divided into groups, we were good to go. They decided to coordinate the jump according our weight in a descending order, which meant I’d have to wait very long for my turn.
As if turned out, I had to wait the longest. After all the people ahead of me had jumped, leaped, skipped, soared, hopped and dived into the air with their friends and supporters cheering for them, and when my turn arrived, the last person in queue, everything felt unusually silent.
With the safety gears and the rope in place, my moment of the day was here. Slowly and carefully, I crossed the railing and walked over to the edge of the plank. Quick waves at the camera, a split-second glance at the river below, and then I made the jump, screaming on top of my lungs.
The first thing I felt was the powerful wind, and then the realization that I was actually falling hit me. Then I opened my eyes and stared at the roaring river in awe. As the rope flung me back upwards, I screamed again, this time out of pure exaltation; and I didn’t stop until tears spilt out.
When I was finally levered down, I was smiling, staring at the sky above me. So was my friend and our smiles lingered on all the way home.
After a day spent well, we had to go back to our bus. Alex greeted us halfway, smiling, “Congratulations! We did it!” He seemed to have changed colors again – from pink to pale
white with only spots of pink on his cheeks.
“Look at the wide smiles on our faces,” he said, and I think I smiled, too: wider, if that was at all possible.
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