It’s mid-May now, which means we are officially two weeks away from opening day. Then, tourists from all over will stay in one of the cabins on site and get to live out their cowboy dreams. Last I checked, Roxy had a waitlist booked out two years. The ranch provides unique experiences and local excursions like fishing, horseback riding, horseshoe making…and now, apparently, ziplining. Roxy is hoping the new addition will entice families to book here.
The long forgotten zipline is buried in blackberry bushes and other thorned vines, making it impossible to get to. Ches and I were tasked with clearing it out today.
I groan, looking over our task and trying to decide where best to start. “Well, we better get started. Divide and conquer?”
Ches gives me knuckles, handing me a large pair of shears and some gloves. “You’re gonna want to put those on. These things can be feisty.” He slides a pair of clear safety glasses on before starting up his electric trimmer. “I’ll hit the heavy brush with this, and you can follow behind and trim anything I miss, and then we’ll hit it with that stuff,” he screams over the roar of his trimmer, pointing down at some weed killer spray.
“Aye, aye, captain!” I salute him, putting on my own safety glasses and following behind Chesney, a close enough distance away so I don’t get hit with flying branches.
We diligently get to work trimming away the nasty growth. It’s harder than it looks. Every time I whack one branch away, two more spawn in its place. The sun is starting to set when we finally get through the bulk of it. The field is cleared out to get a good view of the zipline above that cascades down the natural hilly slope, ending just before the lupine field. The slope will need a good mowing still, but I’m pretty impressed with the work we’ve done.
“Not too shabby,” Ches says, saddling up to my side to slingan arm over my shoulder. His dirty knuckles dig into the side of my head like he used to do when we were little.
I push him away. “Gross, dude, I can smell you from here,” I tease, pinching my nose. Ches just laughs it off, drawing me in for a side hug.
“Ladies first?”
I’m not following his words until his eyes trail over to the shoddy looking zipline. “Oh, no. No, no, no, not happening. When’s the last time this thing’s been used? It’s probably rotted and broken.”
Ches throws his hand out, unfazed. “Nah, this thing is a beauty. She just needs a little facelift is all.”
“Alright, Mr. Cocky. If you’re so sure of yourself, then you get on it.” My eyebrows lift at him in challenge.
There’s no hesitation in his eyes. “Easy.”
I’m so going to enjoy this.
Chesney runs up the old wooden steps. They groan under his boots until he reaches halfway up the tall red cedar tree. He straps into the harness and clips himself to the line. “Watch and learn, baby cuz!” he yells across the field to me, letting out a howl of excitement before free-falling full speed off the platform.
Chesney glides so fast, the line makes a loud buzzing sound. “WOOHOO!” he screams, throwing his arms out wide, head tipped up to the sky. I’m smiling along with him—that is, until he gets close to the end, and a loudcrackrings out. The rope starts to splinter, and, in the blink of an eye, the whole thing snaps, launching Chesney into a free fall towards the field below.
Luckily, the zipline tapers down the hill, and he is almost to the end, so he doesn’t have a long way to fall. Still, the distance he falls at the speed he’s going could seriously injure him.Thwak! Chesney grunts when he hits the ground, creating a puff of dust.
Fuck.
“I’m coming,” I yell, cupping my hands to scream louder. Isprint across the field, dropping to my knees beside him to assess the damage. “Where are you hurt?” I’m starting to panic.
“My…pride,” he moans, letting out a deep, pained chuckle.
I slap his chest, making him wince. “Jesus, Ches, you scared the crap out of me.”
“I aim to please.”
I inhale dramatically. “Shit.”
Chesney's brows furrow. “What is it?”
“I forgot to film it,” I whine.
“You little shit.” I help Chesney to sit, looking him over for injuries. He looks fine for the most part, bar a few cuts and bruises. “Whose idea was that?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “And you wanted me to go on it first, fucker.”
His toothy grin shines under the bright sun. “Haven’t you learned by now to never listen to me?”
“Yes, hence why you’re the one sprawled out in the dirt with a bruised ass and ego,” I tease.
He shrugs, pushing himself up to stand. “So she needs a minor facelift. Big whoop.”
