
That Time GoPro Failed to Go Big
Late one August evening, Heather Falenski had a crazy idea. She dropped it in an email to her longtime friend Calvin Hecker. It was after midnight, but Hecker, who was inspired by the collaborative adventure, responded almost immediately.
They hatched a plan to pair world-class highliner Sonya Iverson with a Tyrolean rope jump from 80m high on Welshman’s Walk in Moab, Utah. And the whole amazing run would be filmed as part of Drive to Change, a project spearheaded by Heather Falenski and Kesley White, to highlight female athletes.
The rope jump Hecker designed, created, and dubbed “Frasca”, was an opportunity to showcase Iverson’s athletic ability along with her mastery of rope rigging. Falenski also hoped the collaboration would serve to rekindle in Hecker the passion to share this exceptional feat of roped engineering that had been laid to rest for personal reasons.
“One of my goals in the slackline world is to teach women how to rig lines to their liking and standards. And to be able to inspect others’ highline rigs to determine whether or not they’re safe.” — Falenski
Imagining the confidence that comes from rigging your own highlines and successfully sending them isn’t hard to do. Let me explain.
This can be a very dangerous sport if not set up properly. It requires expert skill. It involves slacklines, or flat ropes, suspended from one structure to another often utilizing natural landscapes. Successfully rigging and walking a highline hundreds of feet above the ground, requires in depth knowledge of knots, tension, anchoring, ropes and equipment. And balance, lots of balance and physical prowess.

“Walking my first highline was the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt. It probably still is. As soon as I walked to that other edge, everything else in my life seemed easy because I had just done the impossible.” — Iverson
That is no small statement. Iverson, a 3rd year PHD at Boston University in the field of Synthetic Biology, recently co-founded the organization Crossing Lines, a traveling multi-cultural, multi-national slacklining team.
Currently comprised of two Iranian men, two American women, and one Swiss guy, the team’s mission is to demonstrate that slacklining can cross borders and connect cultures.
In 2011, she accidentally organized Slackline Boston one of the largest slackline groups in the US, and continues to develop slacklink.org, to connect slackers worldwide.

The Highline
Just a few short days later Falenski and White hit the road headed straight for Moab. They were to meet Iverson and her niece Delaney Iverson, on the doorstep of her 18th birthday, also road tripping in from Montana.
For a week, the four women rigged, highlined and filmed in Moab before convening with Hecker and the legendary Frasca.
“We rigged one line that was close to Sonya’s record to capture just how challenging it is. She fought the line all day and then finally, as the sun was going down, she sent it.” — Falenski.
Mornings started early, filming on the highlines, cheating the hot desert sun. Afternoons were spent cooling off at local swim holes or in-town cafes taking time to edit. In the evenings they would return to the lines, filming until last light before retiring to camp, swapping stories by the fire while fending off vicious field mice and sneaky baby rattlesnakes.
“During that week in the desert with Heather, Kesley, and Sonya, their enthusiasm for the extreme was infectious. There was no doubt I was going to jump. ” — Delaney Iverson
Frasca
Frasca is an old system, an exact copy of a system, designed and built by Hecker in 2004, and multiple times up to 2008 at Welshman’s Walk. The canyon measures 170m in width, and 80m in height with an impact point from cliff’s edge to below of 77m. The free fall distance of the rope jump is 65m while the entire system rope length is 970m.
Hecker is a pilot and the owner of SINE Innovations, that, according to the website, exists for “progression of wingsuit, paraglider and rope free fall technology through spirited engineering and meticulous field testing.”
The pride of Hecker’s system is in its low impact. No holes are drilled or permanent fixtures placed. All anchors are built around the natural landscape by wrapping boulders with removable equipment.
Also advantageous is the Tyrolean system, providing a suspended anchor for the jump in the middle of the canyon. Most bungie and rope swings operate on a primitive system attached to bolts. Hecker’s design provides longer free falls and a softer catch.

The Rig
With an ass ton of rope, rappelling and jugging equipment, ascenders, pulleys, and anchor material, the pieces and parts barely packed in to Hecker’s Subaru Outback. They were going to need some help.
He invited some extra hands, a few of which were attached to GoPro athletes Jesse Hall and Marshall Miller of The Bomb Squad. Brandon Gonsalves and Ryan Harris also came along. The two parties, 4 women and 5 men, met at Eddie McStiff’s where they became a team.
“We were hanging out on the couches upstairs getting to know each other, we shared a couple of drinks, everyone told their story, it was a fun laid back environment. Everyone was excited about the project” — Falenski
Before the first ropes were set, the GoPro athletes were briefed on the project, everyone was clear that Falenski’s camera took precedence. Hall and Miller agreed to film the rigging so that she could get her hands dirty, since setting rope is her favorite part. Footage would be swapped before everyone headed off and the GoPro team planned to put out an edit.

Over the course of two scorching hot September days, the collective worked to bring Frasca alive, with Hecker and Iverson taking the lead on the rig.
“Sonya has a strong math/science background, perfect for this kind of project. She led a lot of the rigging, and would often suggest alternate approaches. Everyone went along with it.” — Falenski
In extreme situations rank with risk and adrenaline, personalities are magnified creating a ripe opportunity for the dynamic between men and women to become complicated. To everyone’s delight, all accounts suggest an incredibly respectful, fun, and collaborative atmosphere as they set the rig high on Welshman’s Walk.
The Jump
September 11th was the eve of Delany Iverson’s 18th birthday. Her transition to adulthood would come with a once in a lifetime chance to leap from solid ground into a 65m free fall, plunging between red rock canyon walls with a pendulum swing, in the hot, dry Moab Desert.
By early afternoon Frasca was ready for flight. But no one wanted to go first.
Like any other time you take a flying leap off an 80m cliff, a round of Rock-Paper-Scissors was the decider. Brandon Gonsalves, owner of Vline Climbing, would go first. The lineup was easily choreographed from there.

The rope is never at full extension for the first few jumps, but let out gradually for maximum drop. Adamant that she wanted the full affect, White chose her place in line, taking third behind Gonsalves and Hall, and ahead of the Iversons to film reactions at the bottom.
They went next, Delaney then Sonya.
“I wanted Sonya to check my harness so I went in front of her. It hadn’t occurred to me that I could just not do it. After she triple checked my harness, I winked at Son, ran to the end of the cliff, and that was it.” — Delaney Iverson
After stepping off, the free fall sent her screaming past canyon walls, incredibly aware of the spacial relationship to earth and sky. Unlike skydiving or base jumping, with a rope you fly to what feels shockingly close to the ground before the catch.
The pendulum slowed, Delaney Iverson hung in the air, looking around at the cliffs, basking in the elation and hoops and hollers from her friends above and below. Despite reviewing the procedure for the rappel from the swing several times, in her adrenaline fueled state, she almost forgot how to get down.
After recovering her faculties and rappelling her way back to the earth, she found a seat on a rock and looked in to the camera. Awestruck, elated, grinning from ear to ear, perhaps a little shy of her newfound empowerment, she struggled to find her words.
“Doing stuff like that makes you feel like… like you’re clearly just a badass, jumping off cliffs, you can do anything. It was incredible.” — Delaney Iverson
Sonya Iverson followed, a satisfied smile crossed her face as she joined Delaney at the bottom. She wrapped a proud, soothing arm around her niece’s shoulders knowing she had just been given the gift of a lifetime, an experience to reframe the future.
“You only have to be brave for a second.” — Sonya Iverson
Everyone jumped except for Falenski. Her previous experience was the inspiration for the collaboration in the first place, so she reserved her energy for rigging and filming.
After a second day of jumping, the crew worked as a team to derig Frasca. Miller, Hall, Gonzalves, and Harris headed off while the rest of the party opted for another night in the desert.

Failure to Go Big
Falenski was ecstatic. Scanning the raw footage, it was undeniable. This was a rare story of passion, determination, and achievement in extreme sport, with men and women working and playing equally, side by side, as humans. And it was all caught on film.
“This is the future.” Falenski said “this is what sport should look like.”
While Falenski’s footage was reserved for Drive to Change, Miller and Hall sent their video to GoPro for an edit. Everyone signed model releases and awaited updates from the GoPro athletes.
The potential exposure for Drive to Change, for female athletes in extreme sports, and for the story of an all around amazing experience set everyone in anxious anticipation of the GoPro edit.
“We hope that as a result of our work, more women will participate in sports, collaborating as true leaders and partners, and form communities to encourage one another to reach their full potential as athletes.” — Drive to Change.
Days passed, and The Bomb Squad grew silent. Falenski stumbled upon the edit by accident.
Posted to Youtube and Facebook with title “GoPro: 250 ft. Canyon Rope Swing”, the 2.43 minute edit excluded the women almost entirely.
“I felt invisible.” said Falenski
Shown in casual positions or handing rope, filling the background of the frame, the women’s roles were drastically marginalized. Beyond that, the individuals, companies, and organizations that played a role in creating this special experience weren’t even named in the edit or the description of the event.
Telling a Better Story
Through handheld POV cameras everything is now filmed, edited, and published as a testimonial to the world around us. Nick Paumgarten referred to it as a “worldie” in his article We Are a Camera , Experience and Memory in the Age of GoPro for The New Yorker.
In mainstream sports videos and media, women are routinely placed in the peripherals of the action. Images are how we remember experiences. With each editorial decision we are curating our culture — past, present, and future.
The statement “history repeats itself” could not be more relevant. By comparison, if we continue to eliminate women from the story of sport, we run the risk of seeing the same decline of female participation as in modern-day technology.
“It’s about role models. You can’t be what you cannot see.” — Reshma Saujani, founder and chief executive of Girls Who Code in an interview for New York Times article The Women Tech Forgot
Beyond the discussion of equality and the perception of women in sport, this raises the question of how brands such as GoPro place value on women in their business culture and as consumers.
From this perspective it seems GoPro missed out on an incredible opportunity to pair the exhilaration of risk with the story of an invaluable reward, to create a connection with female consumers, and to give a solid, inspiring push in a movement for positive social change.
We have a choice. We vote with our clicks and our dollars. Are we satisfied with mindless footage of adrenaline rushes and epic high-fives?
Or do we want a better story, one that contributes to a positive future, a more diverse culture, the potential for adventure to inspire, empower, and perpetuate good?

GoPro did not respond to my request for comment.