All right, turkeys, the remainder of the year is flying by with Thanksgiving back and carrying with it the fading likelihood of having one last beautiful fall day to join some good people for something ridiculously fun outdoors in the aging spirit of 2011. It’s understandable if the holiday plans are cluttering up your calendar, but right east of Chattanooga in the small Appalachian town of Benton is a scary, death-defying opportunity that has hung over the heads of the townsfolk for over a year. More than 6,000 feet of strong, well-placed half-inch steel cable zip lines, or double-clipped pulleys suspended on an inclined cable are ready to transport you from one spot to a distant other ridiculously fast. It is definitely worth the sunny afternoon it takes to drive over from Murfreesboro, play for a few hours and be back in Murfreesboro just in time for dinner.

After 35 years and thousands of adrenalized whitewater rafting trips down the Ocoee river in east Tennessee, Ocoee Outdoors owner and operator J.T. Lemons, and wife Meg, decided early last year to expand their ventures by raising a mile’s worth of zip lines through the wooded canopy nearby the river that hosted the 1996 summer Olympics’ whitewater rafting competitions.

“It broadens the age of family that can come out,” owner Meg Lemons said. “The [youngest] age for whitewater rafting is 12. [Zip lining] starts at 5 years old,” so after the five months of construction and rigid faculty training ended in August 2010, their attraction opened for business, appropriately named the Ocoee Zipz, or “OZ” for short. And it carries that theme true throughout the journey as guests of all ages are led by OZ’s “Flying Monkey” guides through seven individual, unique zip lines differing in length and incline rated from “Dorothy” to the “Wicked Witch.”

Pulling into a wind-dusted visitor’s center at the edge of a 40-acre field peppered with varying-height forest ranger towers wired to each other as well as to the woods themselves, the only legitimate complaint someone could have under such a cloudless open sight is if they forget their sunglasses. There’s not really a wait time nor too many people checking in on the giant wraparound porch before the guides corral groups of three or four to get harnessed, helmeted, gloved and shuffled onto a small bus waiting to drive among the lookout towers while everyone aboard looks like the Village People’s construction worker.

If you’re lucky, DJ, the sending guide, and Johnny, the catching guide, will accompany your group and explain exactly what their titles mean along with the common sense rules of zip lining like keeping your gloves on the line to slow you down after DJ sends you off and especially when Johnny catches you at the end of the line screaming “Brake!” Also, they cover the not-so-obvious rules, like adults stabling the gently swaying but heavy wire before stepping in too close to avoid a pop in the mouth. Their thorough and precise instruction alleviates most nerves, but they don’t tell you about the tense first step off the first tower into an instant 30 miles an hour. They let you timidly walk to the edge to peek and then “help” you if you dilly-dally. It might be one of those funny-if-not-happening-to-you ordeals.

Once prepped and comfortable, DJ and Johnny talk you into jumping off of the first tower, “The Cowardly Lion,” which stands only about 30 feet off the ground with barely an incline for a beginner’s adjustment to flight. The second line, though, “Dorothy,” doglegs into the canopy but rides a little shorter and steeper than the Lion. This is where the guides start teaching you tricks, or honestly, they mess with you by pushing up and down on that steel wire causing slight careening, bouncing, flailing and probably screaming all the way down to the swinging bridge connected to the third line, “Toto.”

“Toto” is a steep, short one through the woods again. Instead of bouncing, though, the catcher takes a break on this one to introduce you to the giant pillows you’ll ram into when you’re barreling in if he decides not to catch you on any of the other lines. It’s like executing the greatest top rope elbow drop in American history, and it’s filmed too. They post photographers in the woods to document the adventure, as well as tossing people into the giant mats. It’s not such a bad Enchanted Forrest but you’ll have to walk out of it into a neighboring field if you’re still up for more.

The “Tin Man” is an intimidatingly steeper, faster descent where they start laying on the tricks thick. It’s terrifying enough stepping off the “Cowardly Lion” at first, but having to jump off of a tower twice as high and assuming an upside down position while spinning and flying back into the woods tops the Lion’s beginner’s terror any day. A tall person can high-five a tree on this one but no one forces you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, and they might not even make fun of you, but when in Rome, zip as the Romans zip, eh?

After everyone has collected themselves from hurtling senselessly back into the woods on “Tin Man,” the next zip line calls itself “Scarecrow.” It’s similar in incline and length as “Dorothy” and “Toto,” but the tricks continue on the same level as on the previous line. This is where DJ and Johnny teach the old front-flip-off-a-30-foot-platform-above-the-river maneuver that they make look and sound easy, but they know not everyone front-flips a lot. It’s pure entertainment.

Some cower. Others look goofy, but all safely soar, bouncing back to the ground for a refreshing hike up to the next monster of a tower drawing what looks like a vertical wire from its platform and known only as the “Wicked Witch of the West,” OZ’s fastest zip line capable of hurling a body through the air upwards of 50 miles an hour. Please remember what the thick leather pad on your dominant-hand glove is there for. It’s considerate to the catcher on this one and a smoking hand looks cool walking away from the “Witch” onto the little bus shuttling everyone off to the last and largest zip of them all: “Wizard.”

This is also the last time you’ll have to climb 92 or 93 stairs. Once on top, there’s a great view of Ocoee Zipz, as well as tandem wires jutting off into the distance, twice as long as the longest one before it. It’s your choice who to race down and to use whatever fancy tricks you’ve learned that day to throw in their face as you’re winning. It seems like the “Wizard” would be a great one to fly down naked or at night with a bunch of glow sticks stuck to you or sprinkled underneath the line as you soar over; however, you may have to work there to do that one and the harness on a naked body might prove a bad idea for the guys. After all is said and done, everyone is shipped back to the weathered base camp to wind down and de-harness while viewing the embarrassing photos of themselves on a couple of big screens beside the check-in desk.

Any employee there will tell you this is the perfect time of year for zip lining as the foliage of the hardwoods turn and the weather cools to perfection, but it’s an ever closing window going into December and January, which is the only time of year they’ll admit defeat because of the weather.

The Ocoee Zipz experience runs $79 a person, but the price drops as group rates and Ocoee Outdoors packages can apply if you and yours want to throw in some whitewater rafting while there. There are also birthday specials, and generally, the 20th person rides free. Photos are also available for printing on the spot for a small fee.

All information pertaining to the Ocoee experience including directions, field layout, safety standards, as well as other Ocoee adventure opportunities like the new bird sanctuary, butterfly garden, or links to the rafting sites can be found at ocoeezipz.com. J.T. and Meg are also available to make a reservation anytime except for the major holidays at the end of the year at 1-877-7-ZIPZIP (877-794-7947).

Check out more photos of Ocoee Zipz here