Roping by Iza Deleanu An Unexpected Rescue writing prompt entry |
Every time I am close to a death experience I promise God, that I will be a good girl, and never go overboard! Usually, the excitement of the new adventure overcomes the promise. I booked a trip to a cenote in Mexico. I think the name of the cenote was Dzitnup. There were two ways to get to the "bottom of it": the old fashion way: les stairs; or via a fast rope straight through the middle of that black pit. My husband, wise man, chose the stairs. I opted for the rope. As I approached the launching spot, I realized my descent would be a bumpy ride. They gave me a helmet and a pair of leather gloves. I got scared by the depth: "Mamacita, I changed my mind, no more ropas for me, I want to camino el steriono." My guide said:" No seniorita, no afraid; there are people at the bottom, will catch you." He pushed me over the edge and screamed:" hold tight", of course I didn't! I went down like a bullet and wondering what the heck I was supposed to do with those oversized gloves. I heard somebody screaming: " put your hands on the rope, or you'll crash. Gloves will slow you. Automatically, I clenched to the rope, just in time for the landing. I found myself dangling two meters above water. Everybody relaxed, and asked me: "now let go of the rope, we'll catch you." Now, I know the gloves were for smoothing my descent. Roping? No more!
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Iza Deleanu
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