The Nevis

I am sat inside a fourwheel drive bus that has seen better days as it rumbles and coughs along the narrow ledge. The overwhelming majority of my fellow passengers look tense and wide eyed. Josh has clamy hands, Amy has tears of fear and I know Andy better than to believe his apparently nonchalant appearance. We reach the summit and for the first time can appreciate the size of the chasm we are about to be bungy jumping into. Dropping 134 meters it’s the world’s second largest true bungy. We lock in our harnesses, (one that was going to be given out is taken back when they notice brown marks on the lower straps).

The jumpzone is suspended on wires over the centre of the gorge, once inside the box you stand on the clear bottom that reminds you what you’re in for, loud music is thumping. The roster of jumpers is pinned to the wall, heaviest go first, 72kg put me towards the end, when your time comes they take you across the barrier towards the big open hole and sit you in something resembling a dentist chair that wobbles and behind your head is the drop. Once the cord is attached you shuffle towards a short plank. and then it is all on you, two minutes to decide whether to drop or not. Some people jump right out, others their knees seem to buckle and fail them and they collapse down.

Believe it or not, all things considered I was calm for this one and just looking forward to the drop, but telling the truth I did get a little unnerved when I saw the first jumper and just how close he came to the ground. When it finally came to my go, sitting in that chair I saw just how thin the cord was and that it was essentially made out of lots of rubber bands twinned together. I moved to the end of the plank and felt the breeze. I stared down at the tips of my converses balanced just over the edge, then shifted focus to the ground below, it is defiantly a mental challenge more than anything else. I looked up towards the mountains in the distanced and jumped for them. The 8.5seconds freefall was over so quick but what a rush. You feel so alive when you think you might die. The first second or so after you have made the decision is the best, because the attachment is around your ankles you don’t feel like you’re attached. That sense of falling is indiscrible but I will try; as you plummet through the air head first the ground rushes up to meet you. Your brain is in overload taking it all in. I remember the boulders and rocks, I remember the detailed patches of moss growing over them and the stream of turbulent cold water that was only knee deep and would do little to break a fall. I was coming closer but the bungy had already kicked in and I was decelerating. On the next few bounces I better took in my surrounding and felt amazing and giddy from the blood pooling in my head. Pulling the leash attached to my ankle I flipped right way up and was hauled back to the platform. On our return to Queenstown we celebrated with Fergbugers.