Last weekend my family visited the Lamington National Park in the hinterland behind the Gold Coast (Queensland Australia). After a barbeque lunch eaten while fending off the cheeky beautiful red and blue parrots that were trying to steal the food from our plates we decided to go on the forest treetops walk.
How innocent it all looks at the start as the boardwalk merges with the bridge two feet above the ground. I can do this easily I assure myself. But two feet above soon becomes ten then twenty and thirty and my steps slow to a crawl as my hands hold on to the wires with a vice like grip. The call of the catbird in this cool lush place is fleetingly acknowledged along with my son's call of "Don't look down, just keep going".
I briefly glance up and ahead only to see that this walk has even more terrors in store for me as the span ahead turns to the left and rises another ten and then fifteen feet about the safety of the leaf and fern covered forest floor.
But wait is that a solid platform just ahead. Yes. A minute to rest and allow my legs and arms to stop their quivering and a minute to enjoy this beautiful scenery around us. Looking out through the gaps in the treetops I see the mountains and hills in row after row reaching to the horizon. Those that are closest are green and tree covered but as my gaze reaches out further and further the mountains appear bluer and bluer until they seem to merge with the sky. I see the smoke from a few small bush fires wafting into the breeze.
But there are others coming now and it's time to move on from my little refuge.
Ever so slowly, one step at a time I press on valiantly. There is no going back now; it's one way only.
I am now at the highest point of the walk of terror, 45 feet in the air. Oh how can I possibly enjoy the beauty and splendour of this majestic ancient forest when I feel utterly compelled to keep my eyes looking down, searching for the slightest evidence of weakness in each paling of timber beneath my feet.
"Don't look down" my son continues to tell me. But it is futile. My eyes have a mind of their own and the only way they are going to look is down.
Oh why wasn't I born with wings that I could effortlessly glide from tree top to tree top instead of this clumsy dance I find myself doing.
Another glance ahead and miracles of miracles I am almost there. My legs start to carry me forward at a quicker pace, faster and faster they go in a frantic dash to the safety of the boardwalk. And all of a sudden, it's over.
"I can't believe I actually did it" I hear myself saying over and over. As my heart calms and my breathing slows I can resume my leisurely stroll taking in the majesty of strangler figs and oak trees that reach high into the sky. Look, there among the fallen trees and ferns is a family of little tree runners scratching about in the leaf litter. The terror of the treetop walk is soon forgotten as I deeply breathe in the fresh cool scented air of this ancient and sacred place. And as we near the end of this walk we are greeted by those beautiful noisy cheeky parrots that call this wonderful place their home.
The start of the treetops walk
View from the safety of the platform halfway through the walk
Up in the treetops.
Hopscotch