I just got back from a full day at the Olympic Park Village in Utah and barely have enough time to post something before the company’s awards ceremony starts, but I will tell you this. I begrudgingly agreed to go on the “Freestyle Zip Line Tour,” because kids are allowed on it. Rune planned to go on the “Extreme Zip Lining Tour.” I make a point never, NEVER to do anything with the word “extreme” in the title/ Of course, going 130 mph on his motorcycle probably makes that seem tour, but it does drop 40 stories at 60 mph. Not good for an old lady afraid of heights and speed. Unfortunately, the easy zip line tour was closed until after our shuttle would take us back to the hotel, so I sent Rune up first to see if he would survive or not, and he could give me the full scoop. Even then, I had to be suspect because when he first took me skiing in Norway, he had us go up around three different chairlifts to the top of the mountain. Moments later, I was looking down a sheer cliff, a black diamond slope. I was terrified and angry with him, but he insisted that, “This is how you get to the green slopes.”

I thought about my options. I could wait until spring and walk down when the snow had all melted or I could have him ski me down. The latter seemed like the logical option, but how could I trust the man now that he put my life in peril? So he skied me down, and I survived to write the story.

Back to the zip line. Rune came down at an alarming rate, but told me it was no big deal and that I could handle it. We took the chairlift up and waited in line for the “experience.” The line was long, which of course made it worse for me. Get this shit over with so I can have a story to tell my grandchildren, one that no doubt would be embellished year after year. Finally, it was out turn. They strapped us in, and of course I yanked on all the straps to make sure they had done it properly, then turned to Rune and told him I hated him. We’re behind this big, opaque plastic door that opens without notice, and we have to wait for several minutes. Again, my heart pounding and bile rising to my throat.  We’re told there was trouble with the retrieval apparatus, but it wouldn’t be much longer. Great. That didn’t sound good. Did this portend our doom? I tell him again that I hate him once more, then the doors flay open and we drop. Fast. I can’t even scream. I close my eyes for a few seconds, then open them. Then I think, ‘I can do this. I’m a bad ass,’ and I put my hands out to the side “Titanic I’m King of the World” style and think, ‘Look Mom, no hands.’ I felt Erik was with me laughing his ass off all the way down. Again, another thing I survived long enough the write this story. 

Tomorrow is travel day, so I won’t have time to post anything until Monday. I will post a YouTube now, though. Have a great weekend, guys. Sorry I don’t have time to check for typos and spelling errors. 

Here’s Thursday’s radio show if you missed it!