Saturday, November 28, 1998

• Refining the Technique

Backyard practice

Who the devil invented this, anyway?
      In 1983, two climbers from Oregon experimented with walking across short nylon rope lines strung among the trees in Yosemite. Once confident of their abilities, they rigged a steel cable between the Lost Arrow Spire and the rim. But they were unable to walk it.
      Their mistake, thought Scott Balcom, a 20-year-old climber from South Pasadena, was obvious. Why not just walk across on the same nylon rope they used to practice?
      "I had the idea that I was supposed to do it," Balcom said.
      He recruited another climbing buddy, Charles Tucker, from Van Nuys. Tucker, who goes by the name Chongo, thought slack lining was a crazy idea, a product of perhaps too much late-night reverie. But Balcom rigged up a rope not far from the ground and Chongo obligingly hopped on. He promptly fell off. He tried it again and tumbled, glaring at Balcom.

Back home, Balcom tied a slack line in his yard. He practiced constantly. In his mind, he would visualize the Lost Arrow Spire. He would take his ropes and set them up under the arches of the Ventura Freeway by the Arroyo Seco and walk 25-foot stretches, 150 feet in the air.
      Balcom returned to Yosemite a year later to attempt the Lost Arrow Spire. But he fell repeatedly. His technique was flawed, he thought. Balance, it seemed to him, required a visual aid, a focal point. He tried looking at a rock by his destination. It was too far. This time he fell and didn't have time to catch the line with his hand; he was at the mercy of his harness and leash. For a split second, Balcom believed he would die.
      Balcom spent another year refining his technique. When he reached Yosemite, he met and fell in love with a college girl working at the park. On July 13, 1985, Balcom walked the slack line to the Lost Arrow Spire. His father and Balcom's girlfriend, who later became his wife, watched.
      Slack lining the Lost Arrow Spire is the stuff of legends, a walk on an incline that Balcom, the father of slack lining, did more than a decade ago. It is a challenge that causes slackers to get dewy-eyed with awe after a few beers, resorting to adjectives like "totally rad" or "bitchin.' "