Ziplining in Ohio lets you 'fly' above the trees

Ziplining in Ohio lets you 'fly' above the trees
by Susan Glaser / Plain Dealer Travel Editor
Wednesday August 26, 2009, 2:57 PM

OREGONIA, Ohio — So this is how a baby bird feels when it's learning to fly.

The first trip out of the tree is the most treacherous. After that, it's an all-adrenaline, high-altitude adventure.

OK, so ziplining through the forest isn't exactly flying. You're attached, via an elaborate harness and two giant hooks, to a half-inch-thick steel cable, strung from tree to tree. And there's a trained professional on the receiving end, waiting to catch you if you fly in too fast for your landing. No rookie robin has that.

Still, it's about as close as we humans can get to the bird's life: Invest $75 and a four-hour drive, and you can be flying through the treetops before noon.

The adventure sport of ziplining first gained traction in Costa Rica, Hawaii and other highly treed eco-tourist destinations about a decade ago. In the continental United States, the activity has long been a staple at summer camps, but is a relative newcomer to the mainstream tourist trade. In recent years, however, dozens of commercial ziplining courses have opened across the country, from Idaho to New Hampshire, Texas to Tennessee.

In Ohio, there are two, both in the southern half of the state. Hocking Hills Canopy Tours, which opened last summer in southeast Ohio, offers 10 lines of zipping across land adjacent to Hocking Hills State Park, near Logan.

New this summer in Warren County: Ozone Zipline Adventures, between Dayton and Cincinnati, which is where my 45-year-old sister, my 10-year-daughter and I learned to fly last month.

Actually, there's not much learning involved. Skill isn't required -- just a double dose of daring with a bit of trust tossed in.

Ozone Adventures, on the grounds of the Dayton area YMCA's Camp Kern, offers 11 separate cables, ranging in length from 240 to more than 1,100 feet (though when I visited, Lines 8 through 11 were still under construction).

Access to the first line is via a series of three sky bridges, bouncy, narrow spans that some guests find as terrifying as the cable ride. Our (temporary) destination: a 45-foot-tall central platform, which connects, via cables and bridges, to a half-dozen trees in the surrounding woods.

At 240 feet long and just 20 feet off the ground, Line 1 is shortest in both distance and height -- in theory, a relatively innocuous start to the tour, though not in practice.

Stepping off that first platform into the air -- into nothing -- was absolutely terrifying. My heart was beating like mad, my hands were a sweaty mess, my brain was screaming: Don't jump!

And then . . . ahhhh . . . a smooth flight through the trees to the waiting arms of Andi Debow, one of two guides assisting our group of nine zipliners.

So this is what it would be like to be born with wings.

Longer, higher lines 'really freak people out'

The lines get longer and higher from there, culminating in lines 6 and 7 -- more than 700 feet long and up to 250 feet off the ground, stretching across a tributary of the Little Miami River. "Those are the ones that really freak people out," said camp director Jeff Merhige, "in a good way." (Line 10, which is scheduled to open this week -- along with lines 8, 9 and 11 -- will be longer still, at 1,100 feet.)

Indeed, it is a bit disconcerting that you can't see the landing platform on the other side of the valley. You just have to trust that it's there.

And don't even think about the possibility of equipment failure.

(Zipline tours generally are considered quite safe, although whenever height is involved in an activity, there is risk, said Sylvia Dresser, executive director of the Association for Challenge Course Technology, which has developed safety standards for zipline courses. "If the equipment is properly installed and maintained, and the personnel are property trained, that should reduce any risk considerably," she said. Merhige adds that he pays more to insure his camp's horseback riding and aquatic activities than the zipline tour.)

I certainly felt like I was in good hands. Our guides -- Debow and Megan Trowbridge, both educators in nearby school districts -- accompanied us from start to finish. It was the job of Debow, always first to zip across, to assist in our landing.

Before we launched, she taught us two important hand signals. A fist means you're going too slow and at risk of getting stuck -- so scrunch, quick, into a cannonball position to decrease your surface area. (If you still get stuck, she'll throw you a rope and reel you in.)

The Starfish, with fingers open wide, means you're coming in too fast. Spread your body, eagle style, to slow yourself down enough to keep from slamming into a tree. (Debow, who doesn't wear football pads but probably should, gets paid to make sure that doesn't happen.)

Kids were less anxious than the adults

Trowbridge, meanwhile, stayed with us on the launching platforms, assuring us, encouraging us and keeping us brave. "Make sure you look around when you're up there," she said. "It is so cool. You're above all the treetops."

Not everyone took her advice. "I didn't look down the whole time," said 51-year-old Linda Singleton, of nearby Trenton, who accompanied her 13-year-old daughter on the tour. "I'm afraid of heights. This wasn't my idea."

The kids in our group were considerably less anxious than the adults. My own daughter, who, at 10, was the minimum age allowed on the tour, reported some mild nervousness before the first zip -- and then nonstop bliss.

The course runs adjacent to Fort Ancient, the 760-acre Ohio Historical Society site first inhabited 2,000 years ago. During the tour, Debow offered a brief overview of the region, filling wait time on the platforms with local history and geologic information.

Fort Ancient, explained Debow, is not a fort at all, but rather was used for ceremonial purposes. And despite its name, the earthworks here were built not by Fort Ancient Indians but by the Hopewell tribe, which predated the Fort Ancient culture by 1,000 years. "Archaeological digs are still going on there," said Debow, who encouraged us to check out the site after the tour.

The educational component of the tour is important to Merhige, who is using the profits from the zip tour to subsidize the camp's outdoor education program. Budget cuts at area schools have caused many to eliminate field trips to Camp Kern, a trend he is hoping to reverse. "That's the real reason for the creation of the project," said Merhige, who grew up in Shaker Heights.

Such lofty goals, however, are likely lost on the vast majority of thrill seekers, who are flocking to Ozone and other zipline tours, in pursuit of a high-altitude adventure.

They come, quite simply, to fly.

DETAILS

Ozone Zipline Adventures

Getting there: Ozone Zipline is located on the grounds of Camp Kern, at 5291 Ohio 350 near Oregonia, about a 3½-hour drive from Cleveland. Take I-71 south to exit 32 (Ohio 123). Turn left on Ohio 123 and left on Ohio 350. Ozone is on your right.

Tour options: When we visited, there was just one three-hour tour available, which included seven ziplines and six sky bridges. Four more lines are sched uled to open this week, allowing for a variety of tour lengths. Cost of the three-hour tour is $75.

Who can zip: Ziplining is not physically demanding, though some walking and step climbing is required. Participants must be at least 10 years old and weigh between 80 and 270 pounds.

Hours and dates: Ozone Zipline plans to operate daily through mid-December (the view will change as the leaves drop). During the summer, tours start as early as 8 a.m.

Information and reservations: Call 513-932-3756 or go to the Web site.

For lodging and other area attractions: ohioslargestplayground.com.