As I type this, Charlie Company of the 2012 Reborne Rangers has arrived at Lake Ann Camp and is learning their first lesson about conflict and teamwork in the face of the impossible on the paintball field as the final week of Reborne Rangers for 2012 begins. I am still mulling over and telling the tales of week Alpha to friends who find themselves wishing they were there with me; to see what I saw. Looking back, it’s accurate to say that the last day of Reborn Rangers Alpha 2012 was the most challenging one, as I wasn’t prepared for what awaited me throughout that day.
That morning, after breakfast and hearing from Chris, I tagged along as the Rangers headed out to a new physical challenge: The Leap. I thought I knew what The Leap was, I was so very wrong. I thought The Leap was a event out on the challenge course at Lake Ann Camp that I had facilitated years ago involving slabs of tree trunk functioning as “lily pads” which the Rangers had to safely traverse while abiding by whatever restrictions their wise counselors put upon them. This is not what The Leap is; The Leap is more, much more.
As I walked through the wooded area to our destination, with light filtering through the trees while leaves swished and crunched beneath my feet, I saw all the Rangers gathered in a large circle ahead of me. As the circle drew nearer, I looked above me dazed and a bit confused. Far above my head were cables strung between trees in proximity to what looked like small telephone poles about thirty to forty feet in height; and what was that red thing dangling off the cable, was that a ball? I stood there somewhat speechless and amazed as the situation was explained to us: Each Ranger would don a climbing helmet and full-body harness hooked to a rope and proceed to climb one of these telephone-like poles to a platform at the top. Once atop the wobbly and wooden platform the Ranger would jump off into nothingness and attempt to strike the red ball hanging in mid-air from a cable.
As I contemplated what was going to transpire here, I began to think what many would consider “the unthinkable”: Could I, in all of my physical weakness, instability, and pain, actually do this? It’s not like I was 17 again, or even in my early twenties like when I was a counselor here; could I climb that AND THEN, somehow, jump off? Something in me said I might be able to and that I’d regret it if I didn’t attempt to. So I asked Chris what he thought: ‘The Youth Pastor in my says yes, you should do this and that it would be a sight the Rangers need to see; but the Program Director in me is conscious of the time constraints we’re under. If we did this, what would you need?” I explained the inherent stability issue, that I would need one of the counselors already positioned on the platform located thirty-plus feet in the air to help me get on the platform and then to help me exit the challenge. This wasn’t normal procedure and not everyone involved was 100% in support of the idea of me doing this but we forged ahead.
As the morning minutes spun on and the time for my challenge drew ever closer, I watched Ranger after Ranger climb this pole and leap into thin air like it was the most natural thing in the world. To watch one such as Katie Champagne pull what amounted to “Spider-Man”, I just thought “how is she doing this?” Never doubting her ability or that of any other Ranger, but uneasy about my own. As the last of the Rangers ascended and jumped, I handed all of my “pocketfuls of tech” and my lightsaber to Josiah Wyse so I could then get harnessed and helment-ed; one foot, then one arm, after the other. I watched as the guy counselor for Rangers, JB, climbed the pole and fastened himself to it; waiting for my arrival.
Singularly focused on the challenge at hand, I walked through the circle of Rangers to the pole, where Doug Champagne strapped me in. Suddenly Chris appeared to my right and asked me the same questions he’d asked every other Ranger he knew, past and present: “What challenge are you facing back home? What does climbing this represent?” Considering the events in my occupational sphere and the knowledge that I’d be out of a job at the end of the year, continued employment was foremost on my mind. Then, the climb began.
The thing about this pole is its pegs: the first 1/3 of the climb features longer, sleek, black, metal pegs upon which a persons feet can perch, even if they are unevenly placed. While challenging, because my feet stick out at an awkward angle like the webbed appendages of a penguin, it’s do-able; more-so because of the assistance from Doug. It’s the next 2/3 of the pole’s pegs that look down on you and sneer like a rouges gallery of supervillians in all their tiny and rounded “snubness”; these pegs screamed impossible. By the time I reached them, all that kept me going was the words of a personal prayer inspired by the Green Lantern Oath: “In Brightest Day, In Blackest Night, I cannot escape His sight; He who loves me with all His MIGHT, casts out all fear…Jesus Christ, the Light.” My strength began to fade and I knew my feet would stage a protest if I kept going, not to mention feeling like my body was hugging the pole as if it and I were the only physical objects in my entire universe (for all I knew at that moment, we were). I hadn’t given it everything so I kept climbing, one hard earned peg after another. By this time I knew I was still hearing the voices of the Rangers below me trying to talk to me and shout encouragement, but so much of that became jumbled as I blocked out everything around me and could only think of the next peg and not about how much my legs were hating me for doing this to them. One peg, then the next. Most of the time my legs wouldn’t cooperate and I’d have to pull my body up at uneven angles so that my feet would end up far enough above a peg so that just the heel of my skater shoes could rest on them. One peg, then the next; over and over. Now the arms wanted to give out, but I was much nearer to the top. Physically I wasn’t screaming the Green Lantern Prayer, but mentally it felt like it; one part of my brain was doing that while the other part kept repeating the Litany Against Fear from Frank Herbert’s Dune: “Fear is the Mind Killer, I will face my fear, I will let it pass through me so that when it is gone only I will remain…” I wasn’t sure if I could keep climbing; my body had about had it but my spirit hadn’t given up yet and that was the key, much like using whatever item you find in the dungeon to defeat the dungeon boss in any Legend of Zelda game. I kept going; peg after peg, weak penguin foot after penguin foot.
Finally, I reached JB and the top of the pole; only then did the Green Lantern Prayer stop, but only for awhile. JB reached out his hand to grab me and help me onto the platform. Since the sun was directly facing me though the trees, I couldn’t really see him. With his hand reaching out, the moment had a Terminator/”come with me if you want to live” vibe to it which I of all people can appreciate. As I stepped out on to the platform, I finally had an idea of how high up I actually was…and all the Rangers were about four stories below. This was the point of no return, there was only one way off this bird paradise.
Ever so slowly I turned around and faced JB, my back to the sun shining through the trees and the edge of the platform. Using JB for support I backed toward the edge of the platform, keeping my sight on the guy who had his grip on me. It flashed through my mind that I had a small idea of what Peter might have been thinking the feeling when he stepped out of the boat on to the water, eyes on Jesus. I felt my heels go over the edge of the platform and I gripped JB’s arm ever harder as he said “Count it down, then let go…3…2…1…”. I let go.
Then the yell came as I was free-falling though time and space, no control over what might happen in the next sixty seconds; the Green Lantern Prayer returned. Arms out as the descent began to be controlled, I found out later I was rocking somewhat of a “Spider-Man” or “Ninja Attack-hug” pose of my own; be you more of a Spider-Man or Scott Pilgrim fan. Closer and closer to the ground I came, as the adrenaline was still coursing through my veins and my muscles still wanted to punish me. I don’t remember a whole lot after that, just a lot of people wanting to talk to me and posing for a victory photo before collapsing on the ground to let my body catch up to where the rest of me was.
All I knew at that point is that it was done, I had beaten The Leap; the impossible had become possible and I was told I had been awesome, and the pictures did not disappoint.
Yet, this was but the beginning of what I considered, “the toughest day”…