It wasn't until I started strapping on a helmet that I really began to wonder just what the hell I was doing.

It was Friday morning, humid and looking like another upstate New York summer scorcher, as I looped my legs into a harness at the Clark Sports Center. I was gearing up in preparation for a venture out on the center's new state-of-the-art outdoor ropes course with adventure programs director and ropes guru Jim DiLiberto and marketing and retail sales coordinator Jennifer Andrews.

Beads of sweat were already forming on my brow as I tightened the straps on the harness, a tangle of cords and metal doohickeys and the only thing that would keep gravity from reuniting me with the ground.

Physically ready, we set out for the course, a majestic and intimidating structure of ropes, steel cables, wood and metal situated a ways away from the complex itself, behind a few playing fields and past the cornfield which abuts the Sports Center.

As we neared the structure and as my fight-or-flight reflex kicked into overdrive, I reflected somewhat on my previous experience with this sort of thing.

Which didn't take long, since it amounts to very little except for a few days spent crawling around on the nets at Sesame Place, a climbing and water theme park in Pennsylvania.

Where, if memory serves me, when you fell at Sesame Place, you landed on a pile of Big Bird's feathers or in a vat of fudge ice cream. Of course, my memory isn't exactly known for serving aces, so that might be slightly inaccurate.

From a distance, the structure doesn't look too intimidating, but upon climbing to the first staging area, the 40 feet from ground to where you stand (dangle or quiver as the case may be) starts to look like 400 feet.

At this point, Jim began explaining a little bit more about the course, including what we had to do to remain safe. At all times, one of the two carabiners which attaches the harness to the course must remain locked in while transferring from one element to another. If both clips are unhooked at the same time at any point while on the course, everybody goes home, he says.

Tempting as the part about going home was, the last thing anyone had to worry about was me being unsafe, as surviving this course was the only thing I had in mind.

Finally, the moment of truth came as we latched onto the first of the course's 19 elements, the Lilly Pads. This obstacle is one of the course's easiest and simply consists of several spaced wooden planks held up by two wires. The object is to cross the Lilly Pads without holding onto your harness for support.

As I took the plunge and stepped onto the first of the steps, the wire wobbled a little bit and my footing and life on this Earth never seemed more tenuous. I'd like to say I buckled up and courageously conquered my fear as I crossed that first platform, but instead I'll tell you that the sheer horror was all that propelled me forward. No thinking and no courage, just inertia.

With a death-grip on my harness for every step of the way, I flew across the element pretty fast, surprising everyone. Jen followed quickly and we were all smiles about the ease with which element one had been conquered.

At this point we had three choices: continue along the lower tier of the course by walking on a steel cable and keeping balance with a series of ropes, climb a difficult section which took you to the upper tier, or turn around. Naturally my vote for turning around and calling it a day was vetoed and we ended up taking the high road. The really, really high road, it seemed.

This element required stepping along a series of spaced ropes suspended by two wires, which gradually inclined toward a staging area. The ropes swung with your movement, so you had to steady yourself by grasping the wires to which they were attached, while balancing yourself on the thin ropes.

Sounds simple enough, but it was one of the most physically-demanding things I have ever experienced and I sat exhausted for a few minutes after managing to complete my second element without falling.

Next our options were to either cross a balance beam and return to the safety and serenity of planet Earth or cross the Swinging Vines, taking us further into the heart of darkness.

By now, I had a little confidence and agreed that the vines were the way to go. This terrifying element entailed walking on a steel cable while steadying yourself with a series of ropes or vines spaced about a foot and a half apart.You could really only hold onto one rope at a time while gingerly edging along the wire.

Jim recommended leaning forward while holding onto the ropes, which amazingly did make it easier to cross.

Easier is of course a relative term, which in this case meant "Oh my god the ground is staring at me waiting to kill me."

About halfway through the vines, my right leg started quivering, a little at first until it was shaking so badly I thought the entire course would collapse. Fighting through it, I managed to keep going until I lost my balance near the end of the element.

I wobbled and I wiggled and somehow recovered without falling off the itty-bitty wire, and soon successfully conquered my third element.

At Jenn's request, we then tackled the Captain's Chair.

The Captain's Chair was an innocent-looking element which simply consists of you sitting in a chair and using a rope pulley system to propel yourself across the chasm while your feet dangle uselessly from the chair.

Jenn went first and crossed easily and I figured that I would fare just as well. I mean, I've spent half my life sitting in a chair, how hard could this be, I thought?

Long story short, after a lengthy battle just trying to get my rump in the chair, I lost. My large body and the chair's curved design conspired to shoot the chair out from under me before I could get steady.

And so I fell. Somewhat anticlimactically, the safety harness did its job and instead of plunging to my death, I simply hung there. With Jim's help, I got back onto the platform where I immediately tried again to commandeer the captain. And just as quickly, I walked the plank a second time.

Jim decided to lower me off the course using his emergency kit after my second spill. I was pretty out of it by then and a free ride down sounded fine, so off I went.

While some people might consider it a failure to finish the course, I considered it a success just having stepped on the course in the first place. Anything thing after that first element was gravy, as far as I was concerned.

And while it was a terrifying ordeal which left me completely sore for a few days, bruised in a few spots and even bloodied on one knee, I'd have to say it was definitely worth it and I heartily recommend it.

Maybe you won't conquer your fear of heights, but you'll definitely get a laugh or two out of them after it's over.

And maybe learn something about yourself too.