Saturday 6 September 2008

Virgin Rappelling in Grand Rapids

Reporter Chris Knape, who covers development issues for The Press, has watched River House rise along the banks of the Grand River. Friday, he took his reporting to new heights when he accepted a challenge to rappel down from its 32nd floor. Window washers are my new heroes.
"We have window cleaners that do this every day. You're perfectly safe here." That was what Mark Reinhart Sr. from Award Window Cleaning Services said to help ease my nerves as I hung 385 feet over downtown Grand Rapids. In other words, man up. I'm supposed to be a word guy: Learn about something, string words together and tell a story. But words pretty much failed me as I rappelled down from near the top of River House at Bridgewater Place Friday morning.
I was among 30 members of the media and VIPs such as the Grand Rapids Police Department's Special Response Team who made the controlled descent down the nearly complete $80 million building.



FROM THIS MANS BLOG: I'm supposed to be a word guy: Learn about something, string words together and tell a story. But words pretty much failed me as I rappelled down from near the top of River House at Bridgewater Place Friday morning. I was among 30 members of the media and VIPs such as the Grand Rapids Police Department's Special Response Team who made the controlled descent down the nearly complete $80 million building. Friday's drops were a prelude to Saturday's main event - a fundraiser for Michigan Community Blood Centers. For $1,000 a drop, about 70 people have signed on to take the plunge. The event is coordinated by Over the Edge, a Canadian firm that does these kinds of signature events all over North America. Grand Rapids' own Higher Ground Climbing Center and Award Window Cleaning Services helped train and prepare us. Now that the cramping in my hands has subsided I've been trying to reflect and search my soul for any profundity that occurred while I was dangling off the tallest building in town. Here's what I came up with: Window cleaning is not the career for me. I'll spare you the four-letter interjections that made up the bulk of my thoughts while I was trying to look brave and have some sort of Jon Krakauer moment. There is no doubt it was thrilling, the chance of a lifetime. But, hell yes, I was scared. I woke up at about 4 a.m. with a quick heartbeat and rolled around in bed until about 6. My gut refused to listen to my brain's reminders there was nothing to worry about. Not long after arriving at the Bridgewater lobby I saw Rod Kackley, news director with WOOD radio. He wore a jubilant grin as he took off his harness following his descent. "It was incredibly cool," he said. "I would do it again in a heartbeat." Everything was going to be fine, I thought to myself. If he can do it.... I took the construction elevator up to the 30th floor, then walked up two more floors to the 32nd. This is one of the last areas in the tower where windows haven't been installed. The only thing preventing someone from strolling over the edge are some braided steel cables and their own sanity. Reinhart and his son, Mark Jr., strapped me in. Jonathan Graham, chief technical officer for Over the Edge, lead me past those steel cables. Graham was the first to rappel Friday morning, dressed as Griff, the Grand Rapids Griffins mascot. Down in the parking lot, across the street. I could see my wife, Amy, and sons Ben, 8, and Will, 6, who took time out of school to watch their old man try to be brave. My knees felt a bit wobbly as they slipped disposable blue booties on my shoes to avoid scratching the windows. A few last-minute safety checks and tips and the next step was simple: Lean back and stick my rear end out a bit. The two ropes, each of which I had been assured could hold more than 5,000 pounds, were all that was preventing an ugly, gravity-fueled date with Bridge Street. My first words as I dangled there, looking down at the ground and at the reflection of the city in the glass, were less than profound: "OK, this is really, really nerve wracking." As I swung and dangled, the life-affirming moment I thought I might enjoy on the way down never happened. I was thrilled, frightened and those booties kept slipping off the blue tinted windows still wet from the overnight rain. After descending three floors , I realized this was going to be tiring. My hands were gripping far too hard. Feeding the rope through the lever and pulley system was more difficult than expected. Was that clip on all the way? I had a serious wedgie. I turned around and waved to my kids. I could tell they were smiling. A construction worker poked her head out a balcony and said "Hi. Are you scared?" "A little bit," I answered. "It's a long way down." Press photographer Cory Olsen had put a mic on my shirt, but after that brief exchange and another with a worker who let me know I was on the 19th floor, I didn't do much talking. Ground approached about 8 minutes after I started. Gravity was my friend this day and so was the safety equipment. I was glad to be back on the ground, not as game as Kackley to get back in the harness and do it again. I let out a triumphant whoop and headed over to my wife and clearly impressed sons who were waiting outside the River House construction zone. Ben gave me a hug. The life-affirming moment happened on the ground.

No comments:

Search This Blog