I remember when I went skydiving:
Why would anyone want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane? What the hell was I thinking? Is this really anybodys idea of a fun time? Lets share some space with the birds for a while to see what they know and what I have been missing.
I have always had this urge and draw to skydive. There is something about the risk of it all and the unknown of what might happen to me at any second that made this very exciting to me. It makes me feel most alive. It also brings up the question. Was it my love of adrenaline, or my predictability to reckless behavior and spontaneity that pushed me to do this? Well, probably a bit of both.
As we suit up, we are introduced to our instructors and begin to prepare with them. Mind you, this is not really a proper class, but more of an Oh, by the way, when we push off of the plane, you want to arch your arms and legs back like this. It seemed to me this was done as to not be too formal or complicated. We wouldnt want those technical details to get in the way of the thrill of it all.
The day was perfect. The clouds and wind gone from both sight and touch just as requested. It left the ideal climate for a dip through the vast open sky.
We travel upward in the plane, about 30 or so of us. Some altogether were seemingly unaffected, others like us newbees project fear out of our eyes like knowing calves being taken to their slaughter. My instructor at this time shows me the altitude gauge (which for the life of me at this time cant remember what they call it. They did tell all of us, but my memory serves me as an incomplete game of mad libs with words and phrases missing from it and is instead replaced with a growing fear.), At this time and place though I feel Ive reached the point where I cant turn back and turn off the game, especially after people start jumping and flipping off one of the highest spring boards in the world, our plane.
One by one they go out the small door on the side and I get closer and closer to my turn of walking the plank. Finally there is no one left in front of us. With the instructor strapped to me like a backpack we slowly make it to the side door. He counts 3,2,1 and soon after our plan of me jumping first fails and I am promptly pushed into the great unknown. First a loud roar engulfs my ears as though listening to the horrific flames of a forest fire burning out of control. It is impossible to hear anything else at this velocity, but that is ok because my only concern at this juncture is concentrating on the tap I am suppose to receive on my shoulder as a signal to pull the chute open. After what seemed like forever, I get the tap. So, I try to pull once and nothing happens when clarity hits me like a cold slap in the face. Yank hard damn it!! So I do and we are jerked hard like a poor old dog on a leash when the chute opens.
You know how a really bad storm can move through and leave you with a really nice day? Well after the chaos of the jump and the free fall, you are left with the tranquility of floating down under a parachute as soft as a feather.
As I see the world slowly coming closer and closer, I then hit the ground. I can only think of one thing when I am walking on my own 2 feet again. When can I do that again?
Why would anyone want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane? What the hell was I thinking? Is this really anybodys idea of a fun time? Lets share some space with the birds for a while to see what they know and what I have been missing.
I have always had this urge and draw to skydive. There is something about the risk of it all and the unknown of what might happen to me at any second that made this very exciting to me. It makes me feel most alive. It also brings up the question. Was it my love of adrenaline, or my predictability to reckless behavior and spontaneity that pushed me to do this? Well, probably a bit of both.
As we suit up, we are introduced to our instructors and begin to prepare with them. Mind you, this is not really a proper class, but more of an Oh, by the way, when we push off of the plane, you want to arch your arms and legs back like this. It seemed to me this was done as to not be too formal or complicated. We wouldnt want those technical details to get in the way of the thrill of it all.
The day was perfect. The clouds and wind gone from both sight and touch just as requested. It left the ideal climate for a dip through the vast open sky.
We travel upward in the plane, about 30 or so of us. Some altogether were seemingly unaffected, others like us newbees project fear out of our eyes like knowing calves being taken to their slaughter. My instructor at this time shows me the altitude gauge (which for the life of me at this time cant remember what they call it. They did tell all of us, but my memory serves me as an incomplete game of mad libs with words and phrases missing from it and is instead replaced with a growing fear.), At this time and place though I feel Ive reached the point where I cant turn back and turn off the game, especially after people start jumping and flipping off one of the highest spring boards in the world, our plane.
One by one they go out the small door on the side and I get closer and closer to my turn of walking the plank. Finally there is no one left in front of us. With the instructor strapped to me like a backpack we slowly make it to the side door. He counts 3,2,1 and soon after our plan of me jumping first fails and I am promptly pushed into the great unknown. First a loud roar engulfs my ears as though listening to the horrific flames of a forest fire burning out of control. It is impossible to hear anything else at this velocity, but that is ok because my only concern at this juncture is concentrating on the tap I am suppose to receive on my shoulder as a signal to pull the chute open. After what seemed like forever, I get the tap. So, I try to pull once and nothing happens when clarity hits me like a cold slap in the face. Yank hard damn it!! So I do and we are jerked hard like a poor old dog on a leash when the chute opens.
You know how a really bad storm can move through and leave you with a really nice day? Well after the chaos of the jump and the free fall, you are left with the tranquility of floating down under a parachute as soft as a feather.
As I see the world slowly coming closer and closer, I then hit the ground. I can only think of one thing when I am walking on my own 2 feet again. When can I do that again?
I wish I had the guts to do something as amazing as skydiving. You described it so well and I read it so fast (twice mind you!) I now feel like I, too, may want to experience it first hand one day....
or maybe not.