Junior David Dewberry walks the line and performs tricks.Photo by Taylor Costello
Passersby look on with perplexed yet childlike curiosity as students no older than them glide across fluorescent nylon lines towed between two sets of trees. Hayden Lawn, where they have situated themselves this day and others, receives hundreds of passing spectators a day as students, teachers and visitors overflow from the MU, Hayden Library and areas around Orange, Tyler and Forest Malls.
The layout is such that nearly every student passes by at some point or another; it is ASU’s version of a heart to the sidewalks of a cardiovascular system. People walking close enough to the group with even the most remote interest on their face gets an offer to try their luck at walking what is called the slackline.
Most politely decline (“I’d love to, I have to get to class” is the common excuse), although the allure of the line proves too great for some. It is an itch some have to scratch.
The club’s vice president, informatics sophomore James White, says the club lacks a larger membership because adults are not inquisitive.
“That’s the thing about slackline. If people had the curiosity of middle-schoolers, membership would be between 70 and 80,” White says.
Coincidentally, one such young person, Evelyn Jackson, 16, inadvertently proves White’s thesis when passing the time with her family adjacent to the club’s lines on Hayden Lawn. The lifelong gymnast, captivated by this weird spectacle only a few feet away, approaches White, hoping to try it out before having to depart for a nearby meet.
“I just saw them doing it and I was thinking, ‘Maybe I could, maybe I have the balance from gymnastics to try it,’” Jackson says.
Over the course of several practices, only a handful of onlookers scratch this proverbial itch.
Wax On, Wax Off
While some newbies take to the line quickly, others take longer to master their footing.
“The tendency is to want to walk down the line,” says interdisciplinary sophomore Kaitlyn Moring, who serves as the “Golden Ambassador,” a liaison between the club and the university. Moring advises people trying it out to not look down and to find a fixed point on the horizon, such as the tree in front of them, where they can focus their attention.
Junior James White replicates The Karate Kid pose on the Ssackline during one of the many Fridays he sets up the line on Hayden Lawn.Photo by Taylor Costello
The learning curve for scaling the line without stumbling or dropping varies with each participant. One detail set in stone is that the totally immersed slackliner will learn the skills more quickly than the casual participant. Although the particulars differ from person to person, the basics of slacklining remain remarkably simplistic: the dominant foot goes first on the line followed by the lesser leg hopping onto the nylon.
When the other leg reaches the nylon, it is then thrown out to regain balance as the slackliner makes his or her way down the line. Most new slackliners can’t find such balance with shoes on — most don’t mold to the line — so common wisdom prefaces their removal. After traversing the line and wrangling that elusive balance, long-term members conquer the footwear problem, although this strategy is mainly done to find the correct tightness of the line.
It takes approximately three people to make a line taut during setup. However when the line is doubled over the existing line (“a twofer”), pulling the line is less work. While there are no weight restrictions, each body type requires different levels of tension. In addition — the longer the distance, the tighter the tension.
“Basically, slackline is a big physics experiment,” White says. When the lines are low to the ground, injuries seldom occur — the last injury happened after an experienced member courageously attempted to tame a line eight feet in the air. He sustained a broken thumb and a wrist while trying to break his fall.
Typically, when someone falls off, the line whips in the opposite direction as they fall, which causes the person to land on their feet.
Slacking Off
On an average day, approximately five to 10 club members filter on and off the line. Times for the practice vary according to the class schedules of those who put up the line; on the Fridays when White chooses to set up he doesn’t have class. Because of the lack of visitors throughout the day, this leaves plenty of time for small talk — talks worthy of the independent contractors scene from Clerks or a Tarantino film.
“We do two things in slackline: Slackline and Slack-Off,” White says.
During the many slow times when the line isn't occupied by newbies, members do what they do best: maneuver the line and converse.Photo by Taylor Costello
A conversation arises between White and chemistry junior David Dewberry concerning which weapons would serve survivors best during an zombie apocalypse: a handgun or a crossbow?
The discussion is one-sided, with consensus quickly reached that the crossbow acts as the great equalizer, while any firearm, with its loud discharge noise, would be at a disadvantage.
These idle minds frequently amuse themselves in the club, engaging in “pun battles,” where everyone tries to one-up the other with awful puns.
During one recent exchange when Moring remarked about a calamity, another responded that her predicament was a “KAT- astrophe.” The conversation only deteriorated from there, with someone adding, “You gotta be kitten me!”
“In a pun battle, the only one who wins is the one who doesn’t listen,” Dewberry says.
Almost nothing is off the table for discussion in the group, whether it be NERF battles, classes, music and all in between, although some self-moderation occurs when discussion shifts to religion or politics.
Hierarchy Malarkey
Keeping in line with this loose structure, the power of appointed positions makes for follies and kidding. While the nickname for the club’s president, “Overmind,” hints satirical undertones, White’s title, “Supreme Zealot of Insubordination,” expresses the lack of value in their positions.
“We tend to be free spirits in the club so that philosophy of independence from things usually dominates,” White says.
Above all, despite the oddity of the club, slackline proves to be a surprisingly ideal place for fostering friendships and probing thoughtful conversations.
Reach the writer at tccoste1@asu.edu or via Twitter @TaylorFromPhx
