Archive for the ‘Flying Trips’ Category
I’ve always had a thing for the circus. The color, the characters, the daring feats all mesmerize me. There’s something about the nomad lifestyle that calls to me. I realize it’s fantasy, a dreamlike production, that makes fulfilling the wanderlust so appealing to me. If I was part of the circus machine, I know the sheen would quickly fade, revealing the monotony of daily life.
Photo credit: Lone Star Circus School
I’ve done the flying trapeze, and loved it. What a rush. I got my circus fix for a second time by taking an aerial silk classes at the Lone Star Circus School. Who knew an aerobatic wonderland existed in a warehouse in the middle of Dallas? (well, in a suburb called Farmer’s Branch)
Amidst the trampolines, rings and raucous kids, hang hefty aerial silks (also called ribbons and tissues) in blues, reds and whites. Each is a unique two-way stretch polyester lycra, with different width, length and stretch. I watched the various class participants twist themselves amongst the fabric, engulfed in a childlike freedom.
My instructor Kelly Shea, instructor and Lone Star Circus performer patiently explained each move. A former ballerina and swimmer, Shea easily demonstrated each step, and gave positive critiques.
Some aerial silk tricks we practiced:
- climbing
- double tour
- egg
- handstand
- backpack
- arabesque
- starfish in the loop
And here’s a glossary of acrobatic terms. Check out the pros here.
Lone Star Circus School's Founder and Creative Director Fanny Kerwich
Eighth generation circus has performed throughout the U.S., Europe, Africa, Russia, Canada, India, South America and the Caribbean. She founded the school in 2006.
The best part of aerial silk class was losing inhibitions, and getting a workout that didn’t involve a treadmill. Talk about a whole body workout. My muscles are sore two days later; Shea credited my decent performance with my gymnastics background.
I have to admit upside down handstands and arabesque do wonders for the ego, and gave me that graceful, circusy feeling. I’d trade aerial silk acrobatics to burn calories and develop a strong core to a sanitized gym any day.
Who knows, maybe my Water for Elephants moment is yet to come.
Peter Gold, Director of the Trapeze-Experience
1. Tell us about a recent experience that qualifies as an adventure.
Recently, after completing the summer tour with the flying trapeze, I was driving to Florida with my truck and cargo trailer. With my flying trapeze inside the trailer, it’s was at maximum capacity. I’ve made the trip many times, and everything usually goes well. So I was traveling along a New Jersey highway, when another car pulled alongside and frantically pointed toward my trailer. I recognized the driver’s ‘freak-out hysterics’, having received similar ‘good samaritan assistance’ before. I pulled over, thinking it was a flat tire, only to find that the entire tire was missing. The lug bolts had sheared off and the entire tire and rim were gone. I had been driving with a maximum load without a tire. My trailer could have flipped, spewing the trapeze, equipment and perhaps me onto the highway. Years of traveling with the circus taught me to take deep breaths and relax. I knew that this situation would be resolved, and stress never helps. Within minutes road assistance arrived. He turned on his flashing lights and my truck limped along the shoulder of the road and exited two miles later. I spotted a a Starbucks and ordered a grande ‘black-eye.’ (That’s two extra shots of espresso in your coffee.) My smart phone found a mobile repair company, and three hours and $400 later, I was on my way. Carefully, I’d like to say, “Been there, done that.” But, it’s more like, “Been there done that, been there done that.”
2. How do adventurous experiences affect your perspective on everyday life?
Perspective is almost everything. Trapeze is an adventure, life is an adventure. As Helen Keller once said, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spirits in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable.” Personally, since I took my first swing on the trapeze 26 years ago, and joined Club Med unexpectedly, which led to one adventure after another, my life has been a continuous amazing experience. The extraordinary has become ordinary. Adventure has been a regular part of my life. While many people seek security in the predictable so they don’t experience the feelings of fear that come with uncertainty, I now have the courage to embrace the adventure that life really is.
3. Name one way that people can make their normal lives more interesting?
Take a flying trapeze class! Beyond the fun and adventure that the class offers, it provides a very personal and quick reflection on how we create our realities. If taking a flying trapeze class is not an option, do something that is foreign to your experience, so you will enjoy the learning that comes with being a novice. Making mistakes and screwing up is a part of the learning journey. Embrace and enjoy ‘mistake-making’, instead of being resistant and afraid of failure. This will accelerate your evolution and enlightenment, improving your happiness.
4. Can you tell us about an adventure that sounded great on paper but somehow went wrong?
Once I created a flying trapeze program at a very beautiful resort hotel on the Pacific coast of Mexico. Only to find out that the guests were not interested in sports, but preferred drinking the all-inclusive alcohol and passing out by the pool. Big mistake. It’s not always, ‘build it and they will come.’
5. When you’re 80 years old (or if you’re already there, add few years) what adventure memory will you tell repeatedly?
I think when I’m 80 I will replay opening night in Madison Square Garden, in my home town of Manhattan. In front of a sold-out crowd, we performed our most difficult routine. (I had one finger sewed up with nine stitches and was unavailable to participate in the action.) The act went flawlessly, and I’ll never forget the satisfaction that I felt during the bowing moment to all the cheers and applause. I had a sense of complete fulfillment. I knew that if this was my last day to swing on the trapeze, that I had reached the pinnacle of what participating in a great flying trapeze troupe is all about. That all the adventures, mishaps, bruises, smiles and hard work –including a great athletic feeling of accomplishment, had paid off. I was complete. Everything after that day would be sprinkles on top of the ice cream.
Check out my own trapeze experience here.
It seems that my life’s goal is to propel myself upward. I feel my best flying, flipping, soaring, gliding, floating in an ethereal state. That’s why I’m drawn to activities that give me that rush. Maybe I missed my calling as a circus acrobat. Who knows. These thoughts take that “What Color is Your Parachute” career book to another level.
Learn about the art of the trapeze here, and meet Tony Steele, a pioneer of the sport, who claims that his mom wrapped his lunch in a road map when he ran away to join the circus. Trapeze
Today’s airplane rides are usually plagued with extra expenses, headaches, lost time, tight quarters, non-existent snacks and cranky passengers. However, when offered a chance to glide amongst the birds with the Highland Lakes Squadron Commemorative Air Force, (CAF) I knew I wouldn’t be facing any of these irritating issues. An open-cockpit scenic jaunt in the Texas Hill Country? Maybe. A 70+ year-old over-zealous pilot raring to scare me to death? A distinct possibility.
For you war trivia buffs, The CAF is a great learning/teaching opportunity for the family. The museum shares a collection of momentos from our country’s wars, including WW-II, Korea, Viet Nam, and Afganistan/Iraq. It’s a motor head’s dream: engines, tanks, helmets, air-to-air missiles, oh my! I opted for the Snoopy-look, scoring a silk scarf and leather flying cap from a nearby mannequin. The rambunctious crew, Jack Bass, Harold Smith and my pilot Leroy Riser, (a 55-year veteran) were ecstatic about our flight. (I was just happy about my Snoopy get-up.)
The Fairchild PT-19 Cornell was my chariot that day. Brightly painted, it was built largely from non-strategic materials such as wood and fabric although the frame is steel tubing. We wore headsets and coined nicknames (Mine was ‘Grasshopper.’ Go figure.) to communicate while in flight. What happened next was a series of cloud climbs, followed by dives toward the Earth and various tumultuous flips over Lake LBJ all happening at a constant rate of 100 MPH.
It was a day I’ll never forget, sucking thin oxygen, questioning my own sanity, reveling in one man’s full-throttle thrill for flying.