People & Culture
High above Squamish, this Canadian woman is walking her way into the highlining record books
Excerpted from Flow: Women’s Counternarratives from Rivers, Rock, and Sky edited by Edited by Denisa Krásná & Alena Rainsberry. Copyright ©2025 Rocky Mountain Books. Published by Rocky Mountain Books. Reproduced by arrangement with the Publisher. All rights reserved.
Every August, highliners from all corners of the world meet in Squamish to highline on the magnificent Stawamus Chief. In the days surrounding this gathering, slackliners seek respite from the summer heat by the lakes, where they practice on waterlines that pose a challenge that is often considered objectively more difficult than highlines. It’s not just the visual illusion caused by the water playing tricks on the slackliner’s mind, making it incredibly challenging to resist swaying with the waves forming on the water. It’s also technically more difficult to walk.
During that summer, Mia chose to stay in Canada for the Chief gathering and joined world-class slackliners by the lake in the days leading up to the festival. She watched as even the most skilled slackliners found themselves taking plunges into the water. That’s why Mia’s accomplishment really stood out – she managed to traverse the waterline without taking a single fall, defying the common struggles faced by the best of the best. Within a year of wholeheartedly dedicating herself to slacklining, Mia was becoming a prominent figure in British Columbia’s slacklife community. And, in the days to come, she would catch the attention of slackliners worldwide.
However, on the first day of the Chief gathering, fear continued to grip Mia, paralyzing her movement. Some of her friends teased her, playfully suggesting she should abandon slacklining and pursue a career as a highline photographer because she was incapable of moving from her spot. This taunting stirred a fire within her, transforming her frustration into determination. “I’ll show you what I’m capable of!” she declared, channeling that irritation as fuel.
Determined to confront her fear, Mia assigned herself the challenge of intentionally falling off the line, recognizing overwhelming fear hindered that initial step. She was tempted to try a 130-metre highline at the edge of the canyon. However, she chose to ease into it, starting with a 90-metre line. She stood up and took that first step. She then managed to slowly walk approximately halfway before succumbing to a fall, her mind grappling with the intense sensations. Too overwhelmed to continue, she returned to the anchor and rested her mind. The following day, with renewed resolve, Mia returned and stepped onto the line.
She was surprised at how comfortable she felt on the line, so she just kept walking. Slowly and cautiously. After each step, she waited until the line beneath her feet quieted down completely. She fell 30 meters (98 feet) before the end. If she had made those last meters, it would have been a new women’s world record. On her way back, she decided that if she couldn’t take a leash fall unintentionally, she would do it consciously. At the midpoint, she turned into exposure and stood there until she fell. And again and again. She walked the rest of the line with a newfound sense of freedom and ease she had never felt on a highline before.
One week later, Mia and the SlacklifeBC team prepared for a trip to northern British Columbia, along with world-class German slackliners Friedrich Kühne and Lukas Irmler, to rig three highlines at Hunlen Falls. From the outset, the 222m highline they rigged captured Mia’s attention. Despite the daunting 400m chasm below, this time her desire to highline surpassed her fear. She wasn’t looking at the end of the line. Her attention was solely on each individual step, the tension in the line. She moved incredibly slowly. As she approached the end, she had been on the line for a good two hours. She was starting to sense fatigue throughout her entire body and eagerly anticipated the end. Yet Mia kept reminding herself, This isn’t the end. You can still go. You’re still here. Because, when she starts something, she likes to see it through to the end. Approaching the anchor, Mia didn’t feel any stress or pressure, in contrast to the experiences of many other slackliners. Despite fatigue, she remained fully relaxed: “The concept of time and the mental challenges at the line’s end disappear during the walk. I’m not aware of reality until I’m sat down at the anchor, off the line. This lack of struggle at the line’s end is pivotal in my mindset.” And just like that, she sent the line, establishing a new women’s world record.
The experience of walking a long highline introduces a different dimension to the sensation of walking. In an alpine setting, the lines tend to be shorter, resulting in shorter walking distances. Consequently, the mind doesn’t establish the same deep connection with the body, often described as the flow state or being in the zone. The mission encompasses everything from leaving the car, train, bus, or bike to the completion of the entire project. Highlining ceases to be just about the line itself. Instead, the project encompasses the entire journey. In the case of longer lines, the rigging and the whole process is, of course, very complex, but the walking is a significant part of the experience because it takes a much longer time.
Mia also reflects on the flow state that is much easier to achieve on big lines: There’s a unique aspect where the concept of time seems to fade away. You’re not dwelling on the future or the past; instead, there’s a heightened awareness of the present moment. It’s not like you consciously think about specific things; rather, you’re at-tuned to your body’s signals, like the feeling of tired shoulders or mental cues for safety. There’s still that connectedness to reality – checking in on your well-being and observing how conditions may be changing – but at the same time, nothing really exists besides what you’re doing. This sense of being completely absorbed in the present is a significant factor that contributes to my enjoyment of walking long highlines.
As Mia embarked on her highlining journey, the gender disparity within the sport was striking. In Canada, where highline projects often involve demanding hiking and efficient rigging, Mia acknowledges that the physical challenges might have deterred some women, especially those unfamiliar with the strenuous demands of carrying a heavy backpack. Her personal background, growing up with two brothers, proved advantageous. Being accustomed to strapping on a heavy backpack and ascending swiftly, she found herself well prepared for the physical rigors. Still, there were significantly fewer women entering the world of highlining compared to men.
This landscape has undergone significant evolution over the years. As time progresses, the sport is becoming more inclusive, particularly evident at European slackline festivals where the number of women on the lines are often the same as men. “This transformative shift is a positive and dynamic change,” Mia says. The gender dynamic in highlining now varies significantly based on the location: “In Nelson, where I now live, there aren’t many highliners, and I often introduce the activity to new people. In these cases, there’s generally a good mix of both women and men.” In Europe, the highlining community includes an increasing number of strong and enthusiastic women. Whether it’s freestyle projects, carrying hefty backpacks, or engaging in alpine pursuits, Mia noticed there’s a diverse range of interests among women highliners these days. Yet it’s still not uncommon for Mia to find herself as the only woman on a particular project: “My perspective remains focused on the shared enjoyment of highlining rather than gender distinctions. As long as everyone is having a good time, gender composition becomes a secondary consideration.”
However, there is a noticeably different dynamic in all-women teams. A notable experience for Mia was attending the Women’s Highline Meeting, organized by Faith Dickey in the Czech Republic. The festival primarily caters to beginners with shorter lines and no freestyle rigs, but due to its location among sandstone towers, it offers a unique environment. When Mia attended, the atmosphere was notably calm, with no stress about line time and a relaxed approach to sharing the space. Mia says, “I think this tranquility could either be attributed to the fact it was an all-women event, fostering a supportive and understanding energy, or to the fact that most women there were beginners, so still a bit scared and needing more time to get ready.” Be it as it may, she is grateful for the experience: “It was intriguing to observe and be part of an environment that felt so different, in a way more cooperative and communicative in its approach.”
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