Balance

by Nik Wallenda

  When we arrive in San Juan for the big event, we’re in a positive mood. The day before, we place a plaque on the roof of the building from which Karl began his walk. It’s a somber ceremony, a beautiful moment. We release a hundred white balloons into the clear blue sky. Before we leave, Mom turns to me.

  “There’s something in my heart saying that I want to do this walk with you, Nik.”

  I’m taken aback.

  “Are you sure, Mom?”

  “I’m absolutely sure. I’ve been praying about it. I’m feeling that it’s something we must do as mother and son. It’s something I have to do as his granddaughter. I need the closure.”

  I’m surprised and pleased at the same time. So is Dad.

  “I’d love to do the walk with you, Mom,” I say. “I think it’s a beautiful idea.”

  And so we do. On the day of the walk, my dad, the crew, and I spend hours on constructing, checking, and rechecking the rigging.

  Mom stands atop one tower. I stand atop the other. We step onto the wire and walk toward each other. Karl is on my mind. Karl is in my heart. I know the same is true of Mom. We meet in the middle, and she pauses to sit on the wire. We exchange smiles. Then I step over my mother and walk toward the other tower. On the spot where Karl fell, I stoop down and kneel. I send his spirit all the gratitude and love at my command as I blow a kiss and say, “Vati Karl, this one is for you.”

  When the walk is completed, I feel a connection that is both comfortable and overwhelming. This work is done, and that feels great, but I’m also feeling the need for a greater work—Niagara Falls.

  “I don’t think Niagara Falls is going to happen,” says one political ally.

  “Why not?” I ask. “We have the support of Jim Diodati, the mayor of Niagara Falls. We have the support of Senator George Maziarz, the third-highest-ranking state senator in New York. He’s sponsoring the bill.”

  “He’s a Republican and the governor’s a Democrat. The senator is sponsoring the bill that will allow you to start your walk from the American side but the governor can veto it.”

  “And you think he will?”

  “I think he might. The internal skirmishes between parties on the state level are endless. These politicians are entangled in the most Machiavellian schemes you can imagine.”

  “But the argument against it is so weak.”

  “The argument has been strong enough to keep both countries from allowing it. The argument has gone on for centuries. They say that a publicized walk will encourage copycats—and that could lead to endless tragedies.”

  “That’s ridiculous. This isn’t simply jumping off a cliff. This is constructing a mammoth rigging mechanism that involves the most exacting and advanced engineering. Do you think the average copycat has that kind of knowledge or resources?”

  “You’re preaching to the choir, Nik. The senator has already drafted what he calls a one-time exemption to the state’s antistunting law. He’s on your side. He’s certain it will do wonders for tourism in western New York. He’s working for it passionately. The guy’s persistent but the one thing he can’t control is the governor. Their constituencies are completely different.”

  “But what do you think the chances are?”

  “No telling.”

  “I don’t want to discourage you, Nik. I’d never discourage you, but, man, the way things are lining up it sounds like Niagara is gonna be even tougher than you had imagined,” says my pal Mike Duff.

  “To be honest, Mike, I never imagine difficulty. I just imagine doing it. I remember someone once saying that imagination isn’t anything more than the images you make up in your mind. Well, I’ve been making up the image of me walking across those Falls my whole life.”

  It’s one thing to find a political solution, but it’s another to find the finances. To rig the walk I envision—extending across the widest and most dramatic section of the Falls—will require a custom-designed mechanical construction of enormous proportions. The cost will be well over a million dollars. To underwrite the effort will require the sponsorship of network television.

  “Do you think the Discovery Channel would underwrite Niagara Falls?” I ask my manager Winston.

  “We’ll have to see. The first episode of the series airs next week. It all depends on the ratings.”

  That initial episode—covering the Atlantis Paradise Island resort feats—has been edited without my input. It highlights those moments when I lose my temper and go off on my crew. I do lose my temper, and it is something I regret, but not with the frequency portrayed here. I understand that drama requires conflict. This depiction, however, is designed to show me as some intemperate diva. Maybe I simply don’t want to face my true self, but I don’t think so. I think this is reality television’s way of creating its own reality, one in which disagreement and dissent keep the viewer hooked.

  There’s nothing I can do about it and, even worse, there’s nothing I can do when I learn that the network is dropping the series. The five other episodes that they’ve shot will remain on the shelf.

  “Were the ratings lousy?” I ask David Simone.

  “No, the ratings were fine.”

  “Then why am I being dropped?”

  “They’re not saying. But somehow you’re off the schedule.”

  That means my tribute walk to Karl in Puerto Rico will not be shown on national television. It also means that my appearance at Silver Dollar City in Branson, Missouri, won’t be shown either. For that appearance, which required months of painful training, I devised an elaborate act hanging from a helicopter that flew 250 feet above ground. The stunt played out in stages. A trapeze was attached to the chopper. I grabbed on to the trapeze and supported my body with both arms. Then I let go and used only one arm. Then I released my arms and hung by my legs. And then I hung only by my teeth, setting my sixth world record. My neck ached for weeks afterward.

  It was in Branson that I also executed a three-person chair pyramid. A colleague and I rode bikes across the high wire while my mother sat atop a balance bar that we carried on our shoulders. That wasn’t difficult. What was tough, however, was to pretend that, in the middle of the ride, we were losing balance and Mom was in danger of falling. The audience loved the thrill of a near-spill, but dramatizing ineptitude proved to be an art in and of itself.

  “So none of this is going to be shown?” I ask my manager.

  “Nothing. It’s all scrapped.”

  “And Niagara Falls?”

  “It’s not going to happen with Discovery. We’re going to have to find another way.”

  NBC said yes to my Grand Canyon walk and then said no. Discovery Channel said yes to a series, ran one episode, and then said no. What in the world was going to make me believe that Niagara Falls, by far the most difficult of any project I’ve ever imagined, had even a remote chance?

  “I don’t want to see your heart broken again,” says my mother.

  “You know how I feel,” says Dad. “It’s a pipe dream.”

  “How do you feel about it, Nik?” my managers ask.

  “Where there’s a will there’s a way,” I say.

  I’m not thinking of my will. I’m thinking of God’s. I don’t mean that God is personally intervening in the minds of the politicians and money men who will determine whether this Niagara Falls walk can actually happen. I mean that God is opening my heart; I’m looking to God to assuage my fears so I can pursue this passion with clarity and strength.

  I’m reading James 1:6–8, which says, “But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. For let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.”

  I pray for single-mindedness. I pray that I might faithfully pursue what I think is reasonable and right. It’s reasonable that I walk across Niagara Falls. I’ve skywalked great distances before. There is wind and rain and uncertain weather, but I’ve faced such
obstacles before. It is right that I attempt this feat, just as my great-grandfather was right in pursuing his own grand schemes. He lived for the realization of spectacular events. I live for the same. He took it as far he could. I must do the same.

  Fate has kicked me in the head before. Fate will surely kick me in the head again. Fate is fickle, whimsical, ever-changing. Fate is beyond my control. Looked at from a distance, fate can seem funny. Detached from my ego, fate doesn’t have to appear unfair or punishing. Fate is merely the accumulation of circumstances created by others.

  I seek to create my own circumstances. I seek to force fate in my direction. I seek to stay so steady in my course—so single-minded, so obsessively positive—that fate will bend my way. And if I am diligent at this task, if I continue to praise God and exhibit His love in all my encounters, no matter how challenging they might be, what could possibly go wrong?

  Try everything.

  18

  The Falls

  I read Romans 15:4, which says, “For whatever things were written before were written for our learning, that we through the patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have hope.”

  I take “before” to mean not only the days of the Old Testament, but the former days of my family—not only my great-grandfather but his great-grandfather, Johannes the acrobat, his grandfather Karl, his father, Englebert—all entertainers, all men striving for accomplishment and recognition, all dedicated to pushing the limits of the possible, all pioneers into the territory of the unknown.

  Politics is the territory of the unknown. Network television is the territory of the unknown. Politicians and media moguls are strange animals, motivated, like everyone else, by survival. Their job is to take the public pulse and respond accordingly. They chase the elusive prize of popularity. Sometimes they win the prize, often they don’t. Either way, they are influential and powerful people who exude absolute certainty about the uncertainty of what the people really want.

  I believe that there are a substantial number of people who want me to walk across Niagara Falls. I think the walk, done well, would entertain and even thrill them. I think my plan is sound: to rig the cable across the deep two-hundred-foot gorge in the Niagara River, going from Goat Island on the American side to Table Rock on the Canadian side. To my right would be the American Falls and to my left the enormous Horseshoe Falls of Canada. The site would lend itself to the most awesome camera angles imaginable. It’s a natural for television coverage.

  The politics, beginning with the state of New York, hit a hopeful note. The state Senate approves a bill sanctioning the walk. The state Assembly approves the same bill. In both houses there is very little opposition. Now it’s up to Governor Cuomo, who has ten days to either sign or ignore the bill. To ignore it is to kill it.

  Negative voices—there are always negative voices—predict that, as a Democrat, he will not sign a Republican-initiated piece of legislation.

  With nine days to go, there’s no word.

  “How long does he usually take to decide whether he’ll sign or not?” I ask a politically informed friend.

  “Hard to predict.”

  “He won’t wait till the last moment, will he?”

  “Probably not. If he likes the bill, he’ll probably approve it in the first few days.”

  Eight days to go, no approval.

  Seven days to go, not a word.

  Six days to go, still nothing.

  “Are you sure that no early approval means that he wants to veto it?” I ask my friend.

  “It doesn’t look good, Nik. If he wanted to sign, he would have done so by now.”

  Five days to go before the deadline, then four days, then three—silence.

  I keep calling, I keep hoping.

  Two days to go.

  “Would he possibly wait this long?” I ask.

  “I don’t see why he would. I think the bill’s as good as dead.”

  One day to go.

  “Do you think he’s going to sign it, Nik?” asks Erendira.

  “I think he is.”

  On the last day he does.

  On to the Canadian side of the political fence.

  In the summer of 2011, more than a year after my Niagara Falls push began, the board of the National Parks of Canada has made a decision. (In Canada it is the government-appointed NPC, and not a legislative body, that has jurisdiction over the Falls.) The decision is that their antistunting restriction will stand. They will not allow the walk.

  I immediately ask if I might personally meet with the twelve-member board. The answer is yes, but not until October.

  Come October, my father and I travel to Canada. We are prepared to argue what seems to me a solid case. We will show how the walk will benefit Canada with not only positive publicity but, more significantly, positive economics. The walk will be a boon to the region’s tourism.

  I’m told that I have five minutes. Because I have arranged my argument in such a comprehensive fashion, it will take me at least ten minutes. I ask—and am granted—a little extra time.

  When my dad and I enter the room and are seated in front of the board, one of the members starts by saying that today there will be a special presentation by Nik Wallenda, who will discuss his proposed walk over Niagara Falls. The member reminds the board that a law prohibits such a walk—and, furthermore, said law has already been reviewed and upheld. However, we have no choice but to allow Mr. Wallenda to state his case.

  Quite an introduction.

  Undeterred, I calmly and rationally go into all the reasons that this walk makes sense. Slowly but surely I build the argument. I’m about halfway through, when a member interrupts.

  “You have one minute to wrap it up, Mr. Wallenda.”

  “But I was granted some extra time.”

  “One more minute, Mr. Wallenda, and that’s it.”

  That throws me for a loop, but I do my best to conclude. In midsentence, I’m told by that same member to stop talking.

  “Your walk is about sensationalism,” I’m told. “And the Falls are not about that. The Falls are about the beauty of nature—not some stunt.”

  That’s when Dad, who is a lot less patient than me, can’t help but speak up.

  “With all due respect,” he says, “this isn’t a stunt. This is something that our family has trained to do for over two hundred years. This isn’t crawling into a barrel and going over the edge of the Falls. This is athleticism. This is artistry. This is a wondrous feat. So please, out of respect for us and our family history, do not call this a stunt.”

  My father’s words move me—but unfortunately no one else. We’re excused. Every indication is that, if anything, the board is more opposed to me now than ever. Before we leave, though, we’re told that the board will reconsider the matter and issue a press release with their decision within two weeks. That gives me a glimmer of hope.

  As we leave the room, the press is waiting. News reporters from both countries shout out questions.

  “How did the NPC react to your presentation, Nik?”

  “Did you change their mind?”

  “Is there a date for the walk?”

  “How did the meeting go?”

  I consider the questions and then, in all earnestness, answer, “There are issues that remain, but I’m grateful for the opportunity to have met with the board. I’m grateful that they listened to me, and I think that progress will be made. I believe this walk is something that will entertain not only the people of this region, but the world. The walk is about realizing the impossible, and never giving up, which is exactly my attitude. So yes, I see this is as a good day. I have no doubt ultimately the right decision will be made.”

  Two weeks later, the NPC board issues a press release. They have reconsidered the matter and have unanimously decided that Nik Wallenda will not be allowed to walk across the falls into Canadian territory.

  I consider my options. I could refigure the walk and rig the cable to go from one angle of the Ameri
can Falls to another angle on U.S. soil. But that isn’t my vision. That would also exclude the Horseshoe Falls, the single site people associate with Niagara—not to mention the most awesome. It isn’t as good, but it’s better than nothing.

  When I float the idea, though, I’m told that a high official in the New York Parks Department will not approve it. I’m told that the law passed specifically indicated a U.S. to Canada walk, not a U.S. to U.S. walk.

  Another roadblock, another chance to give up the crazy scheme, another opportunity to read the tea leaves as saying, “This isn’t supposed to happen.”

  Or another chance to take it to God.

  “Lord, if it’s Your will to remove this goal from my heart, remove it,” I pray. “If this dream and desire are misplaced or merely my willfulness, let the dream and desire die. Set me free.”

  I turn to Scripture and find myself at Philippians 3:12–14. “Not that I have already obtained, or am already perfected,” Paul wrote, “but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me. Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

  I’m struck by the words “press” and “upward call.” I’ve been pressing on for so long that I can’t envision myself stopping. Maybe I’m fooling myself, maybe I’m misreading the spirit, but it does feel like an “upward call.” I don’t have the sensation that God is draining me of the dream and desire. The dream and desire are stronger than ever.

  I’m pressing on. I’m finding a way to fund an even more comprehensive report on the impact of this walk. I’m employing an independent research firm that, in a few months, will prove that the event will provide the city of Niagara Falls with $120 million in “legacy effects” over the next five years. I’m showing that, with the high probability of network sponsorship, an enormous worldwide audience will view the walk and fall in love with the beauty of the Falls. I’m guaranteeing that I will provide all the essential safety measures to completely protect the environment. I’m showing that the copycat arguments against the walk are bogus. In all my previous feats, no one has ever come along and tried to duplicate what I’ve done. There’s no reason to believe this will happen now. No amateur can even begin to deal with the mechanics of what it takes to rig a line across the Falls.