Rope swangs!

   What could a person add to a Texas tank, spring-fed river, cypress ringed pool, or any other body of water to make it better. Why a good ol' traditional rope swing hangin' over the water. Now notice I didn't mention hanging from a tree, cuz they don't always hang from trees. I have seen steel drill pipe fashioned into a device to hang a rope, logging chains hanging from overhanging cliffs, and even once saw a long 2'' x 10'' and rope hanging out over the edge of a rock quarry with a pick-up sitting on it to keep it steady. One favorite swing on Blue Hole on Cypress Creek in Wimberly, TX wasn't even rope, but made out of 1/4'' chain with a steel ring to hold on to.
   One rope swing I had a hand in was off of the cliffs surrounding Hamilton Pool on the Reimer Ranch (back in the day...) which is now part of the Travis County Parks system. Mike C. (the names have been kept anonymous) and I were on the gravel beach at the outflow of the pool, when he remarked that he had a 50' length of 2'' hemp rope that was dying to be turned into a monster rope swing. I likened that would be cool, but there was at least 75' of space from the closest tree to hang from the edge. I also pointed out that in my truck was an add'l 25' of 1/2' logging chain that would probably make it all happen.

  Well happen it did, I let Mike do all the figuring, and before long this rope was hanging just right of the waterfall that spills on a big chunk of flostone at the edge of the pool. Now I probably will not do this justice, but this rope swing was a caution to even think of using. One had to climb way up under the cliff to get any good swinging action. That rope would be angled anywhere from 15 to 20 degrees when you were about 20 feet up the cliff. Not much on the geometry on the whole affair, but the whole experience was adrenalin packed. You would kick off from that cliff, swing down past that Volkswagen sized rock, swing back up about 20 feet above the water and let go. WHAT A RUSH! Before long there was a pretty good line of long-haired (Summer of 1979!) excitement junkies ready to go, go, go!
   Now being one of those said excitement junkies, I had swung a couple of three times, and had swam back to the beach where my homeys were hangin. You see, when that swing was going through the downward stroke, the centrifugal force was mighty powerful and my arms were getting jellied as I never was one to have much meat on me in those days. Wasn't long before an adventurous female decided she would give it a try. This didn't go to well cause the further she went on the downward stroke, the further down the rope she slid. She ran out of rope just as she was going by the rock and bounced off and disappeared into the emerald green waters, to be immediately rescued by her buds and fellow rope swingers. Ended up being carried out by EMT's about an hour later. Neither Mike or I had any intention on claiming our rope gear.
   One of the most exceptional rope swings that ever existed was on the head-waters of the Medina River, not far from Quiet Valley Ranch in Kerrville. Coming down TX Hwy 16 from Kerrville toward Medina (the city) it was at the first low water crossing. This was where the Sonora-Burnet-Austin contingent of the Kerrville Music Festival crowd (or Kerverts as we were known!) would wile away the days before the next night of music and festivities would begin. The river was always clear, blue-green, and perfectly cool for a summers enjoyment. Just upstream from the river crossing was what I consider the best rope swing in Texas.

   This swing was just about a hundred yards up the river from the crossing. There was a wide spot in the river where the current was slow and deep. This rope was put up every year by an arborist out of Austin that went by the name of Cheyenne. He'd shinny up this ancient Bald Cypress at the waters edge and hang that 2'' hemp way out on a limp. What made this an exceptional rope swing was the downed Cypress tree trunk that laid at the base of this ancient cypress, but pointed at an upward angle upstream. One could run fast up the tree trunk and jump off holding on to that rope as you swung out over the water headed across and downstream. Not nearly as high a swing like at Hamilton Pool, but exhilarating nonetheless. I looked forward to that rope swing every year for the 10 years I attended the Festival, and Cheyenne never failed us.
   There was this one swing on the Guadalupe River at Guadalupe River State Park that was not rope, but made out of an ancient grapevine hanging from an even older Bald Cypress. See-Roy, myself, and about 20+ members of Troop 282 were down there at the park on a weekend excursion in the late Fall. This grapevine was as thick as my wrist and quite pliable, as the other adults and myself had to keep restraining the young lads to not swing on the rope. You see, you could swing out there and as the vine was still tied to the ground behind the cypress trees, someone could pull you back on to dry land. Of course we grown-ups were the killjoys, having to repeatedly tell the boys to not swing on the rope as this was not a swimming weekend campout.
   See-Roy, myself and a number of other buds (OK...Jimmy and Richard too) had a little home-brewing club going on back in Burnet, and I had stashed a couple of bottles of home-made panther piss down in the water close to that grapevine swing. See-Roy and I had gone out to imbibe, and as that brew was potent, it wasn't long I started looking out at that swing with the thought to try it out. I pulled it close to the shore, got a grip on it and away I went. Earlier in the day any number of 60-70# boys had swung on that vine. It was different story when I put my 140#'s on the end of that vine. That vine came loose from the limbs it was climbing and left me standing in the river in my Scout Leader's uniform. See-Roy let loose with 'but Mister Manes, your not supposed to swing on the vine and get your clothes wet!'. Needless to say, I did not set a fine example for those young boys, and I took a lot of ribbing from young and old to boot.