Walking on air

“When you’re alone in the void, floating in the sky, and you feel no fear, what you must be feeling at that moment is a profound sensation of freedom.” The history of slacklining goes back to the ‘eighties in the Yosemite National Park, California, when some climbers devised a way of spending time on their rest days. They tied some webbing between two trees and started walking on it, balancing for the sheer fun of it. Until one day one of the climbers looked up to the sky and decided it was time to set up the first highline, at 800 metres. So he rigged it up between two fixed points, tensed the webbing up and prayed he wouldn’t die in the attempt.

The first time you go up on a highline you are scared to death and have to gradually fight against yourself, because you know you will end up falling. It isn’t enough to be strong and understand the movement of your body in the constant quest for balance. The height represents an added difficulty, and the biggest battle is fought inside your head. “Walk, breathe and don’t think of the void,” you tell yourself. First of all you have to feel and accept the fear, so that you can then let it go.

You adjust your breathing, synchronising it with your heartbeat; the breeze caresses your ears. The adrenaline is relegated to the background. The constant trembling of the line forces you to impose physical and mental stability. You know that your body’s centre of gravity changes with the slightest movement. You breathe in and notice your lungs expanding, and the air going into them. You let your body flow, like in a kind of meditation where everything fades away and only your muscle memory acts.

The next step

When Ian Eisenberg (Arizona, 1989) contemplated his first highline, he was captivated by a strong impression, a simultaneous mixture of fear and excitement. For this English teacher and resident of Mallorca, slacklining also emerged as a pastime in the park, on rest days between climbing sessions. He was very eager to try it out, but at first he couldn’t find anyone to team up with. One day when he was especially discouraged, he decided not to wait any longer – he bought the materials he needed over the Internet and used YouTube videos to set up his first highline.

And that was how both Ian and Jordi Zhang (Barcelona, 1994) started to attract the interest of other climbers and slackliners, creating Mallorca’s first highline community. On their Instagram account (@slackline_mallorca) they post wonderful photographs showing the splendour of the island as an incomparable place in which to perfect the art of walking on the slackline. From the motivation of one and the other, the excitement of all was generated. “It’s all much more fun when there are people around, they encourage you, you encourage them, basically you share more.” The family of people who make up this peculiar group have managed to create an environment where they can enjoy themselves and where “everyone is welcome to try.”

When you are on a highline, time stops and each individual faces the solitude as best they can. For some, the challenge lies in crossing the line without falling. For others, it is about preventing your mind from flying off somewhere else. For Verónica, for example, the key is to “find your balance through your own centre.” Domingo says that this is an “amazing sport.” And for Iago, it is a “psychological struggle.” In the same way, for Miki it signifies “overcoming fear” and for Lluca, “self-betterment.” Mercè reminds us of the importance of “everyone walking together,” to which Jordi adds that you have to “flow and follow the rhythm of life.” Whilst for Ian, the highline is “much more than walking on a rope: it’s a way of life.”

Already a paradise for climbing and other mountain sports, with its spectacular landscape, Mallorca has become the [...]

--------

Read this article in full in IN PALMA 62. And if you like, subscribe to IN PALMA for 1 year and get the next 4 issues of the magazine delivered to your home.