It’s something you got to do at least once.
After hearing from friends that it is the greatest experience in
the world, I decided to take my turn at jumping out a
”
perfectly good airplane,
”
– a term many people have used to describe the experience of
skydiving.
It’s something you got to do at least once.
After hearing from friends that it is the greatest experience in the world, I decided to take my turn at jumping out a “perfectly good airplane,” – a term many people have used to describe the experience of skydiving.
I have to admit I was a little nervous on Saturday before I was going to jump. I was hoping it would start to rain like it does on the East Coast. But this is California after all, and it doesn’t rain here during the summer.
I watched the clouds come in, but by the afternoon there were no clouds overhead – just an ominous looking bank of fog hanging over the ocean.
My brother, who had made two previous jumps, and I were scheduled to jump at 4 p.m., but we didn’t end up leaving until after 6 p.m. because of the weather delay earlier in the day.
The couple extra Burrito Supremes made my jump a little extra costly. Usually the jumps are $179, but each extra pound over 220 is $2. My jump cost 245. I’ll let you do the math.
They gave us a video to watch to help us know what to expect. If skydiving is supposed to be safer than driving, why did they make us fill out two forms, initialing at every paragraph?
We even had to actually write out in sentence form that we realize that it is a dangerous sport and we assume the risks. Just in case we missed that part in the waiver. Well, it wasn’t exactly reassuring. At that time, I thought about writing this column before hand – just in case.
I’ve been on the Drop Zone at Great America. But there is a big difference between a measly 225-feet drop and a 15,000-feet drop.
The Drop Zone is done before you know it, and most people can fall asleep during the few seconds of the drop. But a minute of free fall is a whole different thing.
But if George Bush Sr. can do it at 80, I could do it at a third of his age.
My instructor got me ready as best as he could before we left, tightening straps and explaining procedures. But it didn’t matter how many times he told me to relax, I still was a little nervous.
The worst part was the climb. We hit 2,000 feet, and I looked over at the instructor’s altimeter as my ear’s closed. Surely we must be there. Not even close. We kept climbing higher and higher.
We could look to the east and see the whole Central Valley. And to the west was a huge bank of fog. No ocean view today.
The instructor and I made our final preparations, getting strapped in together for the tandem jump. We were the last ones to jump. I saw the people walk up to the door then disappear. I couldn’t even see them after they left, so I didn’t even have an idea of what to expect.
It was finally our turn. We inched our way to the door. I vowed I was going to go out strong. But it was a long ways down, and any hopes of proving my masculinity went out the window – ah, door.
In the first ten seconds of the jump, I think I forgot everything my instructor told me. It was cold, and I was a little disoriented.
He had told me we should be able to see the plane above, but I never saw a plane. Everything was a blur.
Once we got situated after I quit wiggling, he signaled that I could release my hands from my straps. I did so slowly and found I was able to steer by moving my arms. The last 30 seconds of the free fall were the best part – a feeling I can never forget.
I never really lost my stomach during the trip, but I was a little nervous that I would stop breathing at first. But it was a quick jump. We were on the ground in less than ten minutes.
After the free fall portion of the trip, the instructor pulled the parachute cord. It worked. And everything suddenly became silent as we slowly drifted down to earth.
I tried to orientate myself to figure out where I was by looking at the golf courses in the area. The tough part was figuring out which of the three golf courses was which.
OK, that one must be San Juan Oaks that we just passed. Then we passed over Ridgemark and then Bolado, which was near our landing spot just outside of Tres Pinos.
We did some spirals on the way down, but before we knew it we were on the ground. The instructor told me to put my feet up. Then he told me to put them down just as we were landing. We still landed on our backsides, but the landing wasn’t too bad.
I checked the earthquake register just to make sure it wasn’t too rough. There were quakes Sunday and Saturday morning, but nothing then. So I knew it must not have been too bad a landing.
I don’t think I will get my license after the seven times needed. But I may go again. Maybe on my 50th birthday or after a Jenny Craig session. Either way, still a ways to go.
