Last weekend I tried ziplining…you know, in case I ever go on the Amazing Race, I need to have this skill. No, in all seriousness, I purchased a LivingSocial deal in October thinking it would be fun, and since it is on my list of things to do if I ever go to Costa Rica, I wanted to know what I was getting myself into.
I originally bought the experience for my sister and me. We’d been talking about trying something adventurous together, and this seemed perfect. But when the day arrived, my sister confessed she was terrified of heights—something she apparently hadn’t fully considered when agreeing to the plan. Enter my brother-in-law, who heroically stepped up to take her place. I have to give him credit; he didn’t hesitate when we needed a replacement, even though he had maybe an hour’s notice before we had to leave for our appointment.
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The History of Ziplining
Before I get into my experience, it’s worth noting that ziplining has fascinating origins. The practice actually began as a practical means of transportation rather than recreation. In mountainous regions of China, India, and parts of South America, people used rope and pulley systems to cross rivers, valleys, and other difficult terrain. These early ziplines were essential for transporting goods and people across areas where bridges were impractical or impossible to build.
The transformation of ziplining from necessity to adventure activity happened relatively recently. While zip lines had been used in various military and research applications throughout the 20th century—including by biologists studying rainforest canopies—Costa Rica is credited with pioneering recreational ziplining in the 1970s and 1980s. The country’s cloud forests and diverse terrain made it an ideal location for canopy tours, and by the 1990s, ziplining had exploded into a major tourist attraction. Today, Costa Rica remains one of the world’s premier destinations for the activity, which is exactly why I wanted to try it before potentially doing it there.
The Experience
The place was in Hyde Park, and is very much a beginner course. There were, I think, eight lines total. The group was small—ours had six people, but the maximum is eight—and two staff members guided us. The staff were wonderful. For first timers, they did ALL the work: they attached us to the line, caught us at the other end, removed the trolley from the line, attached us to our holding spots…everything except the actual ride itself.
I was relieved that our group was all newbies, so we all respected the time it took to build up courage that first time when we left the platform. There’s something vulnerable about admitting you’re scared, and it helped knowing everyone else was feeling the same nervous anticipation. We waited patiently as each person took those first tentative steps off the edge, and there was always a small cheer when someone completed their first run.
Two of the platforms we reached by climbing up a firetruck ladder, so we weren’t really too high up—meaning if we fell, we probably would have survived on about 98% of the course. This actually made me feel better; there’s a difference between thrilling and genuinely dangerous, and this fell firmly in the “thrilling” category.
The Tarzan Ropes
We also had two Tarzan ropes to get down to the ground with, and I have to say, that was significantly scarier than the ziplining itself. With the zipline, you’re attached to a cable and moving horizontally. With the Tarzan rope, you’re essentially in free fall until the rope catches you and swings you down. There’s a moment where you have to just let go and trust the equipment, and my stomach absolutely dropped both times. If I’m being honest, I hated it enough that I may not pick a course that includes them in the future. It’s just a different kind of fear—less gliding, more plummeting.
Finding My Confidence
Little by little, after each segment, we all started to relax and enjoy ourselves more. By the seventh ride, I’d built up enough confidence to go off the ledge backwards—something I never would have imagined doing on that first terrifying launch. From lines six through eight, I used just one hand to steer myself, letting my other arm hang free. I don’t think I ever let go completely with both hands, which I should have done. But honestly, it just gives me a reason to go back and push myself a little further next time.
There’s something addictive about that progression—from white-knuckling the handles and keeping your eyes squeezed shut to actually looking around and enjoying the view. By the end, I was almost disappointed when we ran out of lines. The wind rushing past, the trees blurring below, that brief moment of pure flight—it’s unlike anything else.
Final Thoughts
Would I do it again? Absolutely, though I’d probably skip courses with Tarzan ropes. Would I recommend it to others? Without question. Just maybe make sure your companions aren’t afraid of heights before the day of the event. And who knows—maybe my sister will work up the courage to try it someday. But until then, I’m grateful to my brother-in-law for being game for an impromptu adventure.
If you’re considering trying ziplining for the first time, I’d say start with a beginner course like the one I did. The staff make all the difference, and having that support system while you build confidence is invaluable. And who knows? You might surprise yourself with what you’re capable of when you take that first leap off the platform.