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Out on a Limb
By Don H. Staheli
What is there about a tree that makes
a young person crave to climb it? Is it the challenge, the risk,
or the hope of a superior view? I guess even we older people want
to climb, but the yearning is rarely powerful enough to entice us
into the branches.
All I remember about the last time
I climbed a tree is how long it took to get the sap off my hands.
Children don’t worry about sap.
And tree climbing is definitely a lot
more that just hefting oneself up over a branch or two. Oh, yes,
real tree climbing is both an art and a science. True mastery is
achieved only when one possesses an acute sensitivity to the subtle
nuances of arboreal ascension.
The scientific aspects were clearly
demonstrated to a group of us youthful climbers engaged in the doubles
form of the game. We lived near a large tract of trees, both hardwoods
and evergreens, in varying stages of development. The springy young
pine trees were the object of our interest on many an expedition
into this adventureland with which, we were sure, even Tarzan would
have been intrigued.
Each tree to be climbed was chosen
with great care — not too big and not too small, with just the right
amount of spring. Two boys to a tree. The first one up the limbs
went as high as he could, with the other boy climbing up behind.
As the second came close to the top of the tree, their combined
weight would cause it to bend slowly downward, bending farther and
farther until the upper trunk had dipped its occupants down to a
safe distance from the ground.
Their four feet dangling a short way
above Mother Earth, the boys prepared to drop from the tree. With
the fortitude of all young fliers (any landing you can walk away
from is a good one!), they were ready to yield to gravity and hope
for a kind reception on the unyielding turf. This was physics at
its finest.
Now, the artistry of the effort was
manifest in the split-second timing of the release. With synchronicity
usually reserved for a far more sophisticated setting, the two boys,
acting as one, released their grip on the sappy limbs. The well-torqued
trunk sprang like an unloaded catapult back to upright dignity.
The boys dropped to the ground with hardly a thud, their reward
the cheers of admiring peers, each of whom judged the feat a 10.
What fun! Find another perfect tree
and go for it again.
In one particularly exciting bout,
the smallest of our crew headed up a young pine. He had to be matched
with the heaviest boy among us in order to create a combined weight
adequate to bend the tree. Sure enough, they moved toward the summit
and the tree bowed to their wishes. All was going well. The tree
lowered to a proper height, hands let go, and up sprang the tree.
But this time only two feet hit the ground. The heavier boy had
let go before the lighter one was ready.
Our little buddy nearly cracked like
a whip as he shot up with the treetop. The snap of the tree shook
him loose, and he tumbled down through the branches. Two broken
arms and a stern parental lecture later, our tandem tree climbing
had to be put on hold for awhile.
The older we get, the more obvious
it is to us that we should stay out of trees. A person can get hurt!
But we sure do a lot of other things without thinking too much about
the consequences. We may not exactly be scaling oaks, but we introduce
plenty of risk into our lives. We drive too fast, we go too far
into debt, we eat too much junk food, and we take on too much stress.
Most of us, in one way or another,
are way out on a limb — never figuring that something will go wrong.
None of us young tree climbers ever thought about the possibility
of broken arms, either, but they happened. Our friend learned the
lesson the hard way!
Never
climb higher than you’re willing to fall.
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© 2006 Meridian
Magazine. All Rights Reserved.
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