Big bridge climb pays off in huge views
But attempt at a tree thwarts ‘Nick Danger’
QUEENSTOWN, NEW ZEALAND — Brave thoughts about being in the winter of my life crossed my mind when I failed to climb the tallest fire-lookout tree in the world.
I was near Pemberton in Western Australia last week when my Perth-based cousin Donald Cameron took me and my brother Jim to the 60-metre-tall Gloucester Tree.
“The platform at the top is staffed through the fire season,” said Donald. “The only way up is by climbing that petrifying spiral of horizontal stakes. Only the most intrepid, with no fear of heights, ever attempt it.”
He looked me in the eye. It was a challenge. I took off my jacket and began scaling the iron stakes.
The fact I’d had two hip replacements and was missing cartilage in my right knee was obviously not considered a handicap in our family’s clan. Neither was my three score years plus 10.
But I hadn’t gained much altitude when my right foot slipped. I gripped the rung above with both hands, breathed deeply and looked down.
Torrential rain and winds gusting up to more than 120 kilometres per hour had passed through southwest Australia during the night. Signs at the bottom of the tree had warned against climbing in wet conditions.
A dark cloud passed over my heart. We men of a certain age note such omens.
Back on the ground, my cousin said: “So we must give Nick Danger a decent burial?”
But later, at supper on a sheep farm, I sat by Luckie Jarvis, a “tree topper” from the state of Victoria working his way around Australia with his family.
“I was about halfway up that tree recently when I slipped on a wet spike,” said Jarvis, who makes a living lopping high treetop branches for lumber companies and ridding power lines of trees that have fallen in storms.
“I came down. It’s suicidal to make that climb in wet conditions.
“There will be a fatality sooner or later and there will be heck to pay. There are no safety guards.”
There wasn’t a dark cloud in sight a few days later when I paid $229 to climb the 134-metre high Sydney Harbour Bridge.
Every Dec. 31 I marvel when fireworks from the bridge are featured on TV, as Sydney is one of the first cities in the world to ring in the New Year.
The 1,332-stair climb couldn’t be daunting, I thought. Pierce Brosnan, Nicole Kidman, Robert De Niro, Cate Blanchett and Oprah Winfrey are just some of the celebs who have made what promoters call “The Climb of Your Life.”
I was put at ease knowing such people had been successful in their attempts.
I was encouraged in learning that Paul (Crocodile Dundee) Hogan worked on the bridge as a rigger before being “discovered” in the 1970s.
But butterflies arrived while filling out a two-page medical questionnaire, having my shoes examined for safety and giving a breathalyzer for drugs and/or alcohol.
Parties are limited to 12. We introduced ourselves as we donned Star-Trek-type space suits and were told not to carry anything.
“Something like a pen could kill somebody if it fell from the bridge,” said Juan Garcia, a freelance technical consultant from Rio de Janeiro in Sydney to improve his English before working at next year’s Brazilian soccer World Cup. “A camera would smash a car’s windscreen.”
We marched through a metal detector before being equipped with a fleece jacket, a beanie, gloves, an attachment for sunglasses and a static line to be attached to a cable running around our route.
Some tourists pay but back out before making it to the bridge. “But I’d estimate only a handful in every 1,000 don’t make the climb,” said our guide. “They don’t get their money back.”
The view from the summit was magnificent, the feeling pure exhilaration. It was more exciting than any ski run I have made, and as rewarding as the view from any mountain I have climbed.
With such inspiration all around, it was no wonder the party ahead of ours witnessed a marriage proposal, a regular happening on the bridge.
The roof of Sydney’s Opera House and tiny whitecaps blinked in the sun. Ferries bustled in and out of quays. There was a giant cruise ship, a warship, countless yachts and multimillion-dollar waterfront homes and condos.
In the last few days, I’ve travelled by train, ferry and bus from Auckland, through Wellington and earthquake-ravaged Christchurch to Queenstown, the home in the southwest of New Zealand’s South Island of the jet-boat and the world’s first bungee jump.
But that darn tree got me thinking. I have enjoyed those sports and many more in past years. If I am in the winter of my life, I thought it worth remembering an old Russian proverb.
“Old people talk about the things they’ve done; the young about the things they are doing and fools talk about the things they are going to do.”
I had a beer in a pub with locals and slept in.