June 2019

–continued from page 19
Jinghuan (far left) and Colette Tervalon before the big zip.
the 138 Freeway, and the mysteries of orchards with Korean Hangul script dotting the highway
that Jinghuan puzzled over.
I had never visited Wrightwood before, though my brother had a cabin there for many years. It
was a charming town nestled against the slope of a pine-dense mountain range. When we reached
Ziplines at Pacific Crest the young crew was ready for us, though the staff seemed in constant
motion, some rigging folks into various harnesses and doing various safety checks. When they
weighed me I discovered that I was too heavy for their safety regulations. I was crestfallen — or at
least I pulled it off as though I was — and Sammy, my 11-year stepson, stepped up and was raring
to go in a way that my false bravado couldn’t come close to.
While they were gearing up and departing in the grim black Pacific Crest van to the ziplines,
I searched for a good place to hang out with Colette, our 3-year-old girl, and I found The Village
Grind. The Village Grind is an extremely charming multipurpose restaurant, bar, coffeehouse,
art colony and outdoor music venue. The Village Grind is so cool and charming that I’m seriously
thinking we need to bribe them to relocate to Altadena.
Jinghuan and Sammy returned from their supposed 90-minute zipline tour about two-and-ahalf
hours later, exhausted but thrilled. Jinghuan had much to say about the adventure:
Jinghuan conquers her fears.
20 | ARROYO | 06.19
The zipline rides were just as I had imagined and seen on TV. You wear a helmet, gloves and a harness
with ropes and hooks; you go on a ride to the top of a mountain and zipline down from one side to the
other. We were a party of eight tourists, with [brand-new] nicknames like Birthday Boy, Pineapple
and Happy. I was, of course, Mom, and the last one holding the line.
The tour we signed up for had six ziplines and a free fall [rappel to the ground]. We started with
a short line and the length and fun increased with each one. The heroes were the guides — they were
extremely patient, gave clear directions about what to do and what not to do (e.g. to slow down,
just gently tap the top of the zipline and don’t grab it hard. It’s called “pet the cat,” and do not try
to strangle it!). Our guides, Marisa and Sarah, were relaxed, helpful and always giving everyone
encouragement.
Neither Sammy nor I had much fear going on the zipline at all. They didn’t feel very long, nor
risky. We felt in control the entire time. At each “stop,” which is essentially a small platform made of
wood planks, we gathered the group together and waited for others; the platform was so small that the
group had to squeeze in, which made you on high alert at all times just so you didn’t fall off the platform.
It was a great chance to take in the gorgeous view of the SoCal mountains and fault line. Trees
were all down below us; from afar, you see nothing but more mountains and snow on top of them. The
air was clean and crisp. We were happy to be wearing jackets and not just a T-shirt.
The only part where everyone had the most fear was the free fall. You were tied to the zipline still,
but were supposed to jump off a tree platform. All my life, I had dreams of adventures such as bungee
jumping, wind surfing, sky diving and rock climbing in Yosemite, which all involved great heights
and some form of free falls, so I thought I was totally prepared. Everyone ahead of me had some fearful
moment, but all jumped beautifully, including my 11-year-old, who had told me, “Mom, my legs are
PHOTOS: (top and bottom left) Jervey Tervalon; (top right) Courtesy of Pacifi c Crest