By: Blonde Two
Blonde One has a most excellent saying about all things big and scary, “Feel the fear and do it anyway.” It has helped me through all sorts of situations, some really scary, some just a bit silly.
It has certainly been going through my head on the now numerous cable car rides that I have been on in the last couple of weeks here in Austria. We are in Ischgl now which apparently is a hangin’, bangin’ and go-get-’em town during the ski season. Thank goodness it isn’t the ski season now because I have never really liked going-and-getting-em’. The great thing about Ischgl is that, during the summer, as soon as you arrive, they give you a ticket which allows you to use all of the cable cars and chair lifts completely free. In order to be able to take part in this bounteous provision, I have developed a “how not to be scared on cable cars” Blonde system. It goes like this;
1. Close your eyes at key points if you need to. These may for example be that scary moment when you’re gondola is launched into space above a rocky ravine. Try to avoid closing your eyes as you go past the tower/wheel contraptions, the noise will make you jump.
2. Look for something on the ground, for some reason, this stops you looking at the (blimey that is big) space between you and the ground. For example, your husband (although this probably won’t work if you haven’t met him yet) or maybe some flora or fauna. I have done a lot of “looking for Edelweiss” this week.
3. Go on a cable car everyday. I was dubious but, it is true, you can get used to swinging precariously from a wire, clipped on with goodness knows what over a hundred metre drop (regarding to number 3 – don’t research the height of your cable car before you travel).
4. Develop your own emergency procedures (as all good Blondes know, planning is everything). This works with any scary activity. Think of the worst thing that can happen (e.g. the thingies come unclipped from the swinging wire and you plunge to the ground to certain death) and decide what you are going to do if that does happen. This is good to do because, a) it will give you something to do other than scream which really isn’t ladylike, b) it might just save you. My emergency procedure consisted of throwing myself to the floor and covering my head. Much like during the earthquake last year in New Zealand only a bit more dangly!
4. Think of something equally bad that couldn’t possibly happen. If you concentrate on the thing that couldn’t happen then you have a fair chance of forgetting about the thing that could happen (e.g. the thingies coming unclipped from the swinging wire and you plunging to the ground to certain death). I chose to imagine an avalanche hitting me as I walked up the valley. A perfect “couldn’t possibly happen” thing because there wasn’t any snow.
5. Save the research into cable car accidents and the watching of scary movies involving cable car accidents until after you return from your holiday and have your feet firmly back on terra firma. If you are anything like me, neither the statistics nor the films will be anything like as bad as your own imaginings!
You may not be familiar with Mythbusters, an American TV feature shown on Sky where two guys prove or disprove validity of urban myths examining the science involved, all in an entertaining and informative manner. If the myth is unproven they carry on to find out what it WOULD need to make it happen. Example: If a gas cylinder is thrown on a fire will it explode? Well, if it doesn’t they go on to find out how it COULD, so many of their shows end up with spectacular explosions or similar extravaganzas.
One myth said that if a lift cable broke and you jumped in the air a mili-second before the cage hit the ground would you save yourself? I’ll leave you to think about that. I’m not sure if it will give comfort, or exacerbate your fears.
There is some complicated physics stuff about why you move with the thing you are inside. I can never get my head around it. Timing I guess, as with much else in life is everything!
you would have to jump at the same rate as you and the lift cabin are descending – so, to be fully prepared, you would need to do one or two pretty simple things:
a/. train hard to strengthen your leg leaping muscles and reflex speeds
b/. carry out the calculations for the cable car you are planning to ride in to determine its terminal velocity (varies mainly according to the aerodynamics of the cabin and its mass – i.e. you need to know in advance the number and weights of the occupants – although you could make an assumption of the maximum to save a little time): this would best be done by buying my newly developed iPhone app which will calculate these measures the moment you hear the cable snap (or the thingies jump the wheels, of course) – must be a 5S or later to have the computational power, naturally
c/. use a Doppler viewing device to determine the approach of the exact moment of impact – suitably calibrated, it would emit an alarm at the optimum moment of leaping – if this were done by giving you a powerful electric shock up the posterior, it might even increase your leap speed and amplitude significantly – but be careful not to smash your head on the ceiling of the cabin – wearing a crash helmet might be advised
d/. don’t forget to take your skis/iceaxe, bivouac sac and emergency rations in case you end up on a rock or snow bound ledge and have to wait for the rescue helicopter to complete the removal of the remains of your fellow passengers unlucky enough to have their chances of surviving the crash lessened by the increase in the velocity of the cabin due to its equal and opposite reaction to your own life-saving thrust.
Easy, wasn’t it. See you there.
gimmer – I bet all my pocket money that you would rise to that one. Disappointed that Harrison’s chronometer wasn’t needed.
(Sorry, Blonde Two for this private exchange)
You boys and your science! Gimmer, this Blonde always travels with emergency rations, a torch, a whistle and a survival bag. Mr B2 complains, but you never know 🙂
but it still wouldn’t work unless your body could resist the ‘G’ forces of the change of direction – so you would also need to bring with you one of those thermal foam couches used by astronauts when leaving and returning from space (a jet fighter ejector seat would do) – or maybe just a big hammer and quickly-deploying parachute for when you have made the leap from the smashed window.
One of my favourite verses in the Bible contains the phrase ‘underneath are the everlasting arms’ – a great solace on friable vertical rock many rope-lengths above the deck – and now, I’m sure, when in/on cable cars!
Maybe my new (and rather bright) down jacket would serve as a thermal foam coach? In the end I just went for the “if it is my time, it is my time” school of thought. It obviously wasn’t because here I am in Calais and only a tunnel to be worried about tomorrow! Gruss Gott!