Canopy Zipline

With the ship Star Pride anchored off of Quepos on the western coastline of Costa Rica, we Zodiac onto shore and bus ten minutes into the tropical rainforest just north of Manuel Antonio National Park to embark on our first ever ZipLine experience. Each member of the group of about 30 from the ship, from pre-teens to oldsters like us, is outfitted with snugly tensioned step-in thigh and waist harnesses, heavy leather gloves and helmets. Each harness has a giant caribiner attached to the front, and a pulley wheel assembly attached to that. We walk uphill, sounding like a manacled chain-gang with clanging hardware, and clamber up a few dozen steps spiraling around a large tree to the platform at the top.

This zipline system comprises 22 platforms, each attached ecologically with a tension system not requiring any invasive drilling into the wood, and 12 different zipline steel cables, which we will descend one after the other, interspersed with some uphill climbs and tower stairs to gain altitude.

As our turn comes, the guide first hangs the pulley assembly hung over the cable and then re-attaches it to the central carabiner on the rider. One then hangs in a sitting position with legs crossed, left hand on the harness in front, and right hand loosely hung over the cable behind and above. This hand is not so much a brake, as a rudder, since small pressure on either side keeps you straight, rather than twisting around. The guide shouts “GO!” and you step off into space, and are zipping along through the canopy top at 35 plus miles per hour very quickly. And very cool! There’s an ingenious braking system controlled by the guide at the target tower, but we’re not told that initially, and it seems until the last minute like you’re going to come in at full speed and crash the platform.

There was announced the possibility on this tour of seeing three kinds of monkeys—howler, titi and capuchin—as well as three-toed sloths, tree frogs, iguanas, scarlet macaws and and toucans, but we see only a sloth and some pretty butterflies. In all honesty, while speeding down the cable, there is no time to look for wildlife.

On landing, one is unhooked from the first cable, steps around the other side of the tree on the platform, and is attached to the next for the following descent. The ensuing platform is on another tree, to which we have to hike about a quarter kilometer uphill, and then spiral up a couple of flights of stairs. Hook on, step off, zoom down, land. Wash, Rinse, Repeat—several times. The last two descents are the longest, at almost a half-kilometer, and the penultimate is a twin side-by-side cable so that we step off into space together. We don’t arrive together however, as heavier riders achieve higher speeds in the descent, so I win the race.

All in all, it takes a group of around 30 people almost two hours to complete the entire 12-line descent, and as we hit ground, everyone is ready for the sweet tea that awaits in the thatched-roof refreshment palapa in a tropical garden. Now we just have to check off bungee jumping and hang gliding from the adventure bucket lists.