I don't like heights and what stood (actually, swung) between us and the other side of the 450-foot-deep canyon was a single-lane wooden suspension bridge that appeared to be doing the Mambo in the high wind. Ah, New Zealand, the land where bungee jumping originated, where some extreme Kiwis and tourists think nothing of jumping off of Auckland's 1,075-foot Sky Tower, the tallest structure in the Southern Hemisphere. But then again, none of them have made that drop astride a 650-pound motorcycle.
We were near Queenstown on the South Island, weighing our options in Skippers Canyon, where daredevils jump from the famous 327-foot Pipeline Bridge. This second bridge, further along the canyon, was just as high. The wind was reportedly gusting at 75 mph that day - too high to safely bungee jump - but I could see the BMW 1150GS and me making a beautiful freefall into the Shotover River below. The Beemer slipped into first gear and off we went, trying to stay on one of the two-foot-wide wooden tracks laid across the bridge. I kept my eyes on the other bank to avoid the waves of nausea I get when I peer down from high places, especially when there's daylight between the slats below me.
The bridge was moving side to side and up and down, curving so much in the middle that at times you couldn't see the other bank. The only way to get across was to accelerate, so by the time we rolled off the other side, the bike was in third gear and we were cruisin'. The crossing was worth it, though. We had come to see the old Skippers schoolhouse used from about 1875 to 1920 when the canyon was a gold-mining center and a small settlement of miners' families lived high above it. Teachers didn't find this school very desirable because of its location in the middle of nowhere; so several slightly unconventional educators were hired. One teacher loved gardening, so each student had a plot of dirt. Another teacher built a nine-hole golf course (math lessons, anyone?).