Worse, the farther into the Lauterbrunnen Valley we get, the more confident I am that her fears are founded. This is going to be a heights challenge. No amount of lying to Yumi is going to change that.
“Keep your eyes closed,” I instruct gently, resting my hand in front of them for good measure.
“Okay,” she whispers, like the mountain might hear her.
The cable car is an enclosed structure with floor-to-ceiling windows. I would never tell Yumi this, but I love the view. It’s early and the sunrise is just now breaking through the mantle of mist obscuring the boundary between sky and land.
Never before have I fully grasped the meaning ofidyllic, but I get it now. Lakes and rivers slice through the landscape, the remaining snowcaps melting into delicate waterfalls that cascade down the greenery-covered cliff faces. Iceland was breathtaking for how otherworldly it was. Switzerland is breathtaking for howworldlyit is. When aliens imagine Earth, they’re picturing Switzerland.
“Almost there,” I say, squeezing her tighter into my side as I watch the station sink under our near-vertical rise of over 2,500 feet.
Morgan, who’s comforting Matt in a similar way, glances over at me with a supportive smile. He’s much more stoic about his fears, though, and there’s something deeply sad about that. It must be difficult to be terrified but not be able to seek comfort from someone who loves you. Sad for Matt, sad for Morgan, sad for men and the people who date them.
At least my fake girlfriend doesn’t have to stare out the window and pretend it doesn’t bother her.
“Oh my God,” Yumi whimpers, her face pulled taut on the precipice of a total meltdown. “I can’t do this.”
We stand at the end of a hiking path, wearing blue helmets and matching harnesses, secured snugly at our waists and thighs. Each harness has an attached pair of lobster claws—V-shaped tethers that help you move between fixed lines. My dad used a similar pair back when he was a lineman who had to climb electrical poles.
A guide showed us how to clip in and out safely, never unclipping both claws at the same time. He double-checked our gear, watched us practice, and the whole time, Yumi’s seemed shell-shocked.
I’ve been wrestling with myself. Is it my place to nudge Yumi through this, or do I tell her it’s okay if she can’t do it, that I’m just happy we made it this far? What’s higher on the priority list: being a good friend or being a good teammate?
Before we left Arizona, she’d been adamant:“Whatever it is—zip-lining, bungee jumping, parasailing—you’ll just have to push me. I mean it. No matter what I say in the moment, just send me flying.”
And I was fully prepared to do that. Then I opened the challenge envelope.
Mandatory Team Challenge—DON’T LOOK DOWN:Via ferratais Italian foriron way. These fixed climbing routes—usually comprised of cables, iron rungs, and ladders—provided a practical route for mountainous farmers in isolated communities to reachhigh pastures. They were notably used by World War I soldiers to cross the Dolomites mountain range.
Today, Adventurers must traverse a section of the sheer cliff that will put them 2,000 feet above the Lauterbrunnen Valley. Teams will go one at a time. The team with the slowest time will be eliminated.
No ambiguity. No choice. Mandatory.Willbe eliminated.
Pushing her is off the table, because this isn’t a pushable challenge. Yumi has to actively participate. This show is evil.
“We don’t have to do it,” I say tentatively.
“Mmmmmm,” she groans, looking pained.
“I…” I try to run a hand over my braids but meet the smooth plastic of my helmet instead. “I don’t know what to do, Yums,” I say.
She looks up, the fear temporarily shifting into bright-eyed surprise. “You called me Yums,” she says with that childlike delight I’ve known almost my entire life.
Is that really the first time? “I did,” I confirm with a smile.
In the back of my mind, I know this conversation is not a conversation that a lovesick couple would have. It probably looks bad on camera, the audience wondering why Yumi is so stunned I would call her by the most obvious nickname the name Yumi can have. But to course-correct would be to remind my partner that we are standing on the edge of her wildest nightmares, and I simply won’t do that—even if it means raising questions for those watching.
She sighs, eyes fixed on me, and the moment is electric.Conduction, connection, a light to see by. “I want to do this. I’m just terrified.”
My stupid heart hears those words and sees her face and wishes for something else.Head in the game, Noelle.“I got you, then. If you want it done, we’ll get it done.”
Her entire body swells on an inhale that she holds and then releases with a frustrated noise. “Let’s just do it. Let’s just do it,” she repeats, more to herself than me.
I follow her to the point where the thick guide cable rounds a corner and the ground just…vanishes. Yumi slides her lobsters’ tethers over, and I follow. I don’t know what happens if we get stuck, if Yumi enters a state of panic so severe that she can’t move. Who breaks first, production or my best friend?
I hateThe Adventureversefor doing this to her. I hate the content-centric part of my brain that thinks,At least we’ll get a lot of airtime this episode.
We take our first steps around the corner. The camera drone goes first, then me, then Yumi follows, her entire body tensing. The path narrows to a ledge, forcing us to shimmy along sideways, our bodies clinging to the mountain face. Below us, the valley opens up—a dizzying expanse of green.
