Zip line

By Kevin Somers

I love my daughters, who are 12 and 10, so when reasonable, I try to accommodate requests.  I figure if I’m nice to them, they’ll change my diaper someday.  We got a 15-foot above-ground pool recently. The pool required: tearing down 4/5 of a two-car garage but keeping a shed; ripping up tons of concrete; two trenches (electrical and gas); landscaping; fences, and a multi-level deck.
   
Relaxing in the warm salt water recently, I thought I was done when Erin, the elder, asked, “Kevin, can we put a zip line over the pool?” 

“Maybe.  What’s a zip line?”
 
“You know, those things that you hold onto and zip down a wire, like at the park.”
 
“Oh, yeah.  I know what you mean.”
 
“Can we make one?” 

“Maybe.” 

That was the only opening Erin needed.  Suddenly, she had a tape measure and ladder and was offering ideas for routes over the water.  I laughed at first, but her enthusiasm inspired me to help.  We became a team: Measuring, plotting, and planning. 
 
We decided that if we got a 12-foot post and fixed it to the garage, ran a wire over the pool, attached the other end to a deck post, then they could scream right into the water.
 
“Can we make it today?” she asked, repeatedly.   

Before long, I was driving to Home Depot to look for wire, wheels, winches, and whatever else might be needed to make a zip line.  We bought stuff and returned home for the first attempt.  The zip line looked good, but when Erin climbed the ladder and set off, it sagged so badly she couldn’t ride it. 

Undeterred, I got the yellow pages and looked up “wire.”  The only entry I found for a company in Hamilton was called Sling-Choker.  I looked them up on the Internet and got their address.  I prefer face-to-face, so I told Erin we were going for a drive.  Armed with a quick, crude sketch, we set off.  Shy and skeptical, Erin asked, “Is this a store?”
 
“No, it’s a place that makes industrial wire but maybe they can help.” 

“Kevin, they’re going to think we’re insane.”
 
“Who cares? If we’re really lucky, we’ll meet a nice, helpful person and they’ll say, ‘Come back tomorrow and we’ll have everything you need.’  And it’ll cost $80.” We arrived at the big, industrial building.  We went in the front door and were greeted by a smiling, friendly employee named April. “Can I help you?” she asked. 

I took out my sketch and said, “I may be barking up the wrong tree here, but we’re trying to make a zip line over our pool.” 

“Awesome,” April said.  (We weren’t crazy!)  She asked Erin,“Is this for you?” Then she explained that she played on one as a kid.
 
We discussed our plan before April set off for the plant. “Erin,” I said, “I got a great feeling about this lady.  I bet she’ll come back with everything we need.”
 
April returned with dirty hands, fasteners, and the critical wire-tightener and explained how to use everything.  Shortly after, a worker emerged with a 25-foot piece of ¼ inch industrial cable. The bill was less than I had dreamed. We thanked April profusely and were on our way.   

As glad as I was to get the right equipment, I was pleased Erin was there to see April in action. It’s refreshing to encounter someone who’s helpful, competent, and knowledgeable. It was probably the smallest order Sling-Choker has ever had, but it was, in its own way, very valuable.
 
I set the line up again and began tightening it.  This time, the tops of the posts began to pull inward before sufficient slack was removed from the wire. There was, as usual, a simple solution: guy-wires. 

The next morning, I was back at Home Depot.  We attached guy-wires then cinched the zip line taut.  When Erin’s next ride was successful, I fist-pumped like Tiger Woods. The next day, there were 6 girls, from ages 3 to 12, who played in the pool for hours and took turns riding the zip line, again and, “Again!”

Hooray! Next! 

Kevin Somers is a Hamilton-based writer who loves a challenge. Click here to read Kevin's blog.