The bridge swing boasts a 50-metre fall between two looming cliff faces.
The bridge swing boasts a 50-metre fall between two looming cliff faces.
"Wave to the camera," says Thomas, the swing operator, as I dangle in a harness roughly 80 metres above a shallow, stony river.
I offer a pitifully weak wave to the Mokai Gravity Canyon employee over on the viewing platform who's pointing a camera at my face ... and, with a sudden click, I'm plummeting to what feels like certain death.
Ah, the things we do in the name of journalism.
To be honest, I'm not proud of the involuntary screams I let out the entire way down this sensational bungy jump.
To be even more honest, I might be just a little bit proud. As jump master Mel Pollard put it, I gave those shrieks "a solid effort".
I screamed so loud, in fact, that by the time I reached the bottom, I had given myself a headache - hardly surprising, if my terrified-bordering-on-demonic expression was anything to go by.
As if to make me look even more of a baby, our Chronicle photographer did the swing in absolute silence, with little more than a look of vague concern on his face as he started to fall. I felt a little better knowing the only reason he didn't scream was because he couldn't take a breath in.
The Gravity Canyon bridge swing might seem a little brutal, but Mel tells me they have people in their 70s opting to do it, despite having the somewhat gentler flying fox available as a popular alternative.
"We've even had 80-year-olds do our activities," Mel said.
Visitors have the option of the stomach-dropping swing, the flying fox, and the bungy jump at prices of $159, $155, and $179 respectively. Adrenaline junkies who want to do all three can pay $399; or for two activities it costs $299.
"One in 100 won't bungy," Mel said.
Gravity Canyon is found 15 minutes along a winding road off the state highway before Taihape, and Mel says they get a 50-50 split between Kiwis and international visitors.
"Aussies are our biggest international market."
Locals would often bring family who were visiting the area.
"It's obviously a real awesome thing that we're so far out, but it's also one of our biggest downfalls."
Despite the distance, they can get 70 to 80 visitors a day, depending on the weather, though the most people they'd had doing activities on one day was 50 so far this year.
"Every day's different," Mel said.
Te Atawhai Clifton, Huia Tibble, and Jesse Clifton take the flying fox, which can reach speeds of 160km/h.
Huia Tibble, a 42-year-old mother from Greytown, was there with her two sons Te Atawhai Clifton, 14, and Jesse Clifton, 21, from Carterton.
