TREE GLIDERS: Bird's-eye glimpse of nature

It may have been one of the most breathtaking views she'd ever see, but 7-year-old Mandy White kept her eyes focused on the half-inch steel cable stretched out in front of her, worried it would zip her through the air smack into a giant Cypress tree.

"I'm thinking it's gonna be scary," she said, finally tilting her helmet-topped head toward the creek below her. "Like the first time I rode a water slide."

Turning to her guide Richard Kopczynski, she asked, "Can I shout that I'm scared?"

For Mandy, 10-year-old brother Dylan, uncle Mark Hogan and his friend Pat Davidson, who visited Cypress Valley Canopy Tours near Austin Wednesday, it was to be an education in the natural beauty of the Hill Country area near Lake Travis. But first, it would be a lesson about their own limitations.

"OK," answered Kopczynski. "We're going to do something a little different. I'm gonna clip myself on and clip you to me. Ready? OK. Here we go."

Canopy tours have long been offered in Central America, allowing nature-friendly adventurers a bird's-eye view of the rain forest thanks to steel "zip lines" that allow them to slide through the air and land on 40- or 50-foot-high platforms hugging midsections of giant trees.

After taking a canopy tour in Costa Rica last summer, David Beilharz decided he wanted one of his own on his lush Hill Country land. In February he began working with his wife, Amy, and their four children to make it a reality, and, on July 4, Cypress Valley Canopy Tours opened.

"You need to really work with the environment," he said. "It's really nature that set the pattern, and we just tried to fit something into it with certain parameters."

The result is a six-line course with three sky bridges over their property, which includes a creek, limestone overhangs and a variety of plants and animals. Because canopy tours are a rarity in the continental United States — Beilharz thinks theirs is the first — and because of the spectacular views they afford, people are beginning to buzz about the Texas treasure.

Decked out in a harness, helmet, gloves, trolley (which zooms riders down the zip line) and safety ropes, Dylan White said he felt like a mountain climber.

Although the Web site posts a minimum age of 10, Amy Beilharz said guides evaluate younger children during "ground school" — mandatory training for all participants — to see if they are eligible.

During ground school for Dylan and Mandy, Kopczynski and guide Bree Bernwanger outlined their two golden rules: Don't handle your line attachments yourself, and when you brake (which is done by squeezing a gloved hand on the line as you approach the platform) never put your hand in front of the line or it could get caught. Then they practiced zipping and self-rescue — getting back to the platform in case someone stops in the middle of a line.

"It was sort of scary at first," said Mandy, who volunteered to go first on the practice line. "When I started to get the hang of it, it started to be a lot funner."

Even though it's the shortest, the initial cable is the hardest, Bernwanger said as she clipped the group to the first zip line of the course. There's something about standing on a platform and preparing to fly off it that just scares people.

Looking at the cable with his sister, Dylan said, "It looks long for the shortest zip. I'm not going first."

Instead, Hogan did, howling as he sailed over the creek's blur of green, gray and brown.

"It stretches people a little bit, and then it's so beautiful," Amy Beilharz said. "I had one person come off and say, 'That was exhilarating, and it was peaceful.' How do you have both of those things in one experience?"

With Kopczynski and Bernwanger lending hands, the group went through the first zip line and crossed two sky bridges that bounced like minitrampolines with each step they took.

Near the bridges, Bernwanger pointed to holes in a tree and said they were created by a ladder-backed woodpecker. Not to be outdone, Kopczynski looked down at a few fish swimming in the creek and said perch and bass often make homes in that water. Environmental education is a big part of the Beilharzs' mission, and guides work in facts seamlessly throughout the hour-and-a-half tour.

But no amount of knowledge could have persuaded Mandy, who clung stone-faced to Kopczynski for three zip lines, to stay any longer. This happens sometimes with younger children, so they called for a golf cart — driven by the Beilharzs' youngest daughter, 8-year-old Francesca.

A barefoot sprite with curly blond hair who loves to yell at the buffalo on the family's ranch and who doubles as an iced tea saleswoman during slow times, Francesca appeared, hands on hips, and, in a British accent, announced, "I'm here to pick up a little girl."

The timing couldn't have been better. They had just arrived at "the screamer," the course's longest and fastest zip line, which whisks participants 450 feet at up to 30 mph for nearly 20 seconds.

"Amaaazzzing," Hogan yelled as his trolley roared down the cable like a chain saw and carried him over the carved limestone flanking the creek.

Sometimes, for the final zip line, groups come up with contests, like "best scream" or "best Tarzan yell" and compete against one another. This group should have considered "most likely to finish the course."

Zipping down the final line, Dylan got fancy and tried to slide hands-free. Nervous from the speed, he clutched the line in front of the trolley (breaking golden rule No. 2), caught his glove and stopped suddenly in the middle of the line, dangling 50 feet above the creek bed.

Because Dylan couldn't free himself, Kopczynski sailed out, freed the glove and instructed Dylan to use the self-rescue crawl to return to the platform.

"We've practiced pretty much every situation that could happen," Bernwanger said. "There's a rescue bag at every platform. Everything is set up to where if the worst should happen there's always a way to help someone else."

"Although," she said, between Dylan and Mandy, "that's the most we've ever had happen on one trip."

After the tour, the group picnicked along the creek and rehashed the adventure. Dylan actually liked getting stuck on the line, although if he had to do it over again he would have kept his hand in the back when he braked. Davidson liked the sky bridges, and Hogan said simply, "What a thrill ride."

The tour also has a zip line that spills visitors into the water, but the water level is too low now.

Writing an ad for watermelon on a dry-erase board, Francesca said she's happy her parents decided to create the canopy tours.

"I'm very glad, because it's fun and adventurous," she said. "And it feels like you're flying."

"You want to share something if you have it, but we couldn't figure out how we could do that and not ruin it," she said. "This actually is a perfect idea, because people can go through the creek, they can experience it, but they're not taking things or leaving things behind."

• Where: 1223 Paleface Ranch Road, Spicewood (about 30 minutes from downtown Austin near Lake Travis)
• When: Tours are offered through the fall. Corporate tours are available.
• Cost: $60 per adult, free for children 17 and younger
• Information: 512-264-8880; http://www.cypressvalleycanopytours.com

Zip lines zoom guests to treehouse B&B near Austin

http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/fea/travel/thisweek/stories/DN-treehouse_0709tra.State.Edition1.8aa47d.html
http://tinyurl.com/mxlmk

07:13 PM CDT on Saturday, July 8, 2006
By SUZANNE MARTA / The Dallas Morning News

SPICEWOOD, Texas – Ever since I saw Swiss Family Robinson, I wanted to live in a treehouse.

This summer, that dream came true – at least for a night.

But instead of climbing to my quarters on rickety ladders, I soared through the trees on a zip line.

Cypress Valley Canopy Tours has hosted about 2,000 visitors on an adrenaline-filled tour of its narrow, densely forested valley on zip lines since it opened last year. This year, owners David and Amy Beilharz opened a more advanced ropes-style challenge course – and our home for the night: Lofthaven.

The adventure starts around 6 p.m., with a thorough outfitting of gear and a quick but useful lesson on zip-line techniques.

My friend and I step into harnesses that connect to a trolley that latches to a steel cable about 8 feet above the ground. This is what carries us as we zip through the forest. We get a quick overview of how to keep from spinning, stop and get ourselves back to a platform if we get stuck in the middle.

The course starts at the wheel house, where the Beilharz family has created a water wheel to help generate energy for their 88-acre ranch.

For 90 minutes, our two guides take us through six different and thrilling zip-line rides. The guides help us on and off the zip lines. They also make sure we're clipped to safety lines, ensuring that we won't stumble out of a tree.

Each platform is roughly 40 feet off the ground and offers gorgeous views of the lush cypress, fragrant cedar elm and ash juniper. It's shady and cool under the thick tree canopy, with few bugs to bother us.

Along the way, our guides point out various flora and fauna, including a 4-foot-long water moccasin watching for frogs and salamanders by the creek.

The majestic cypress trees are more than 600 years old in some cases. The platforms were built in a way that wouldn't harm the giant trees. In one, we spy a prickly pear cactus precariously positioned 60 feet up in the branches – the work of a bird's seed distribution.

The narrow valley also reveals centuries of erosion and rock formations, including hollow "soda straws."

After our longest zip – about 350 feet – we see our home for the night, hidden behind the massive cypress hosting our landing platform.

The 200-square-foot room is supported by a steel plate and has a wraparound balcony. The dark khaki canvas helps it to blend into the surroundings.

We finish our final two zips, head back to the longest one and zip to our treehouse.

Growing up in Oregon, I spent countless hours using the towering Douglas firs as my jungle gym. My sister Christi and I would return at dinnertime with a thick coat of sticky sap on our hands.

But the treehouse we played in was always somewhat disappointing. Just a wood platform nailed to a few branches. It was OK for daytime adventures, but not at night.

The Cypress Valley treehouse isn't like the kind you dreamed of as a kid.

It's powered by wind and solar electricity, enough to run lights, a cooling fan, coffeepot and toaster oven. A sky bridge takes visitors to the other side of the narrow valley to a full bath equipped with towels and handmade soaps.

Inside Lofthaven, a buffet with a carafe of iced water and a pitcher of purple hibiscus-mint iced tea welcomes us, along with a bowl of whole fruit that would make Paul Cézanne grab his brushes.

A queen-size bed, piled high with decorative pillows and draped with muslin netting, enchants. And an elegantly set table for two, complete with chargers and cloth napkins, reminds us this isn't for kids.

A picnic basket holds our dinner: roasted vegetable and turkey sandwiches, a fancy spinach salad and a bag of organic chips to snack on. We're also treated to organic chocolate truffles made by a local vendor.

We dine under a gorgeous sunset with a gurgling creek below and the buzz of cricket frogs as our soundtrack.

As dusk falls, we get another light show – this time the bright flickers of fireflies swirling around.

For all the bugs outside, there are few inside our room, thanks to the wraparound screens and latching door. There are a few daddy longlegs spiders – there to snack on bugs, rather than overnight guests.

As the moon rises, visitors to Lofthaven are treated to a symphony of sounds by the resident great horned and screech owls and nearby coyotes. It's a wonderful lullaby.

After a sound night's sleep, we wake to the cheerful twittering of birds.

Another basket is waiting for us. This one is filled with tasty breakfast breads, fruit salad, yogurt and granola.

We sip freshly brewed coffee and savor the fresh morning air.

About 10 a.m., we hear the telltale whirring of the zip line. It's a Cypress Valley staffer, coming to do safety checks at nearby platforms.

In another hour, another group of thrill-seekers will be flying through the trees.

For now, we'll savor every last moment of our treehouse getaway.

E-mail smarta@dallasnews.com

OTHER PLACES TO SLEEP IN THE TREES
Cedar Creek Treehouse, Ashford, Wash., 360-569-2991, http://www.cedarcreektreehouse.com Two-level treehouse is 50 feet off the ground. From $250.

Out 'n' About Treesort & Treehouse Institute, Cave Junction, Ore., 541-592-2208, http://www.treehouses.com Offers several options, including a tree teepee. From $110.

Hana Lani, Hana, Maui, Hawaii, 808-248-7241, http://www.treehousesofhawaii.com Rustic lodging in lush rain-forest setting. From $120 per night, two-night minimum.

Nahiku Treehouse, Maui, Hawaii, 808-248-4070, http://www.nahiku.com Panoramic views of the Pacific and Haleakala volcano. From $125 per night, two-night minimum.

Lothlorien Woods Hide-A-Way, White Salmon, Wash., 503-281-9888, http://www.lothlorienwoods.com Split-level treehouse with a view of Mount Adams. From $125.

Carolina Heritage Outfitters, Canadys, S.C., 843-563-5051, http://www.canoesc.com Canoe to one of three houses on the Edisto River. From $125.

IF YOU GO

Cypress Valley Canopy Tours' Lofthaven:

Where: 1223 Paleface Ranch Road, Spicewood (about 45 minutes from Austin)

Open: 9 a.m. to dusk Tuesday through Saturday, and noon to dusk Sunday during the summer. Fall and spring operations are limited to Friday through Sunday.

Cost: $60 per person for the canopy tour, $75 for the canopy challenge course. A night in Lofthaven starts at $200 per couple, including meals.

Information: 512-264-8880; http://www.cypressvalleycanopytours.com

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