Tree Climbing Revisited

The correct number for Tree Climbing USA is 770-487-6929.

For publishing the wrong number in the May 24 column, my apologies to Abram Winters – and to an unknown telephone subscriber who may be wondering why people are calling him or her about climbing trees.

Winters had several reasons to call me, but that errant phone number was by far the most important. He was nice about it, so I promised him I’d try to make it prominent.

Winters is the local guru for people who do serious tree climbing. These are not your grandpa’s apple trees, but are often the largest trees around, carefully tested by experts before being tackled by persons of all ages who want to nestle briefly in a green bower.

I used to climb trees, a long time ago. The world looks different from up high. I can’t explain it – the world looks different from a third story window too, but it’s a different difference.

We had plum trees and cherry trees on the mini-farm in Pennsylvania where I grew up. They flowered white and fragrant in the spring, and I remember thinking what fun it would be to climb them in late summer when their fruit was ripe for picking.

What I don’t remember is whether I ever did climb them in late summer. I suspect I was put off by insects attracted to overripe fruit, not to mention the sticky fruit itself.

There was a catalpa tree in the front yard next to the low wire fence that separated our house from a two-lane Macadam road. The tree was easily climbable by my brother and me – I must have been about 10 – but in one of the few photos I have of my mother being silly, she is in the tree, appearing downright casual as she leans against its smooth trunk. Her feet were maybe four feet from the ground.

It was just so… so un-Mom.

Tree Climbing USA focuses on safety and good form for climbers, respect and good care for the tree. Winters founded the local “grove,” the loose-knit group that gathers regularly to climb trees that have names like Mary Alice and Margaretta.

On the second Sunday of each month, about 2 o’clock, Abe and his fellow climbers meet on the banks of Lake Horton. He teaches climbing, replete with ropes and tackle, but he is also building bodies and confidence. His website is www.TreeClimbingUSA.com and well worth a visit.

Jan Allis wrote to me, pointing out that The Citizen activity notices include Winters’ tree-climbing outings.

“I have to take exception to your comment that the Lake Horton trees are for ‘serious’ tree climbers,” Jan wrote, admitting that “the guys that set up the ropes and other gear are serious climbers.”

Thank heaven for that.

“Last year on Mother's Day,” Jan continued, “we happened upon the tree climbers and watched people of all ages climb. There was an 8-year-old girl who just zipped up and down her rope. I said that I'd always wanted to do that, and after I'd wavered so much, they [said] they could put a pulley system on a rope for me so that it wouldn't be so hard to lift myself up the rope, and they finally prevailed upon me to harness up along with Dick [Jan’s husband].

“Besides, they urged, it was free to mothers on Mother's Day. We climbed up to one of the branches not nearly in the top of the tree. I later wished a little that I tried the normal way first, and if I could, then I would have been on a rope that would have allowed me to climb much higher.

“I think that you will concede that I probably am not a serious tree climber, but it was fun,” she said, “and I especially enjoyed showing my pictures to friends and knowing that I'd actually climbed up into that tree.”

When I talked to Abe Winters last week, he graciously invited me to climb with his group. I laughed a little. My traitorous knees would punish me mercilessly for trying a stunt like that. And I’m probably 10 years older and 10 pounds heavier than Jan.

Still, it was nice of him….

Have you ever seen one of those documentaries that film life in the South American rainforest canopy? There are monkeys, I believe, that live their entire lives in that over-spreading rooftop of leaves, never touching the ground. Researchers have built treetop shelters where they can live indefinitely, observing this ecosystem – so far above the planet Earth, and yet so much a part of Earth.

And I remember being deeply moved by a column by Martha Ezzard of the AJC some years back. A fine stand of really old trees was being threatened by unnecessary development and Ms. Ezzard let a group of tree huggers (literally) talk her into spending the night in a particularly noble oak.

She described getting up in the tree and wriggling into a sleeping sack that was secured for her by someone whose knots were trustworthy.

I don’t believe she spent the whole night, but she was up there long enough to experience a kind of bonding with the solid, gentle tree, and threw her credentials into the battle.

The little grove was spared, at least for then.