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NickDG

Vintage BASE Jumping Stories . . .

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Wow! Reading all these is a great way to stay up working nights. Brings back to mind the gang I was so fortunate "I thought" to travel with. OMG which one to tell....OK..This is how I got my muff#. Back in the original ZHills days after finishing off a tank from a muff boogie I was a pack rat with Spacey Tracey...ring a bell anyone? We go for a road trip to hang with another packer in-----. started on the Tequila while making JUST plans to do this A. During this planning it happened to be a full moon...great lets go they said. I get blind folded for some reason even tho my VW bus is transportation of choice. They chant "happy trails for you and me" and I'm thinking this is a prank on me. Oh the road was not feeling like a road anymore and we were there. I get handed a rig to put on, a pair of red ear muffs and I guess WE are going. I think in Tequila vision ...OK. Not sure how high Troy went but he hummed right past us. Tracey says "ey man we don't gotta go that high" So a 2way we go. Troy is limping, Tracey is limping and I barely had a clue what just happened but I also twisted my ankle and limped. But you know how ya gotta hurry it away by the way my vw van diesel had no get away pick up at all with tons of black puffs coming out of the muffler. The best plan was to get to the bar and we'd all be ok. That worked for the night. Troy needed real medical attention and we took him to the ER next day and ended up in surgery. We stayed parked for some time. I was so excited to get my muff#286 or 268...don't remember but one of those.
This was in the early 90's and would never jump under "that state of mind" just in case anyone wants to bust my chops about it. I still think what fuck did I do....and am still here...
is it dark yet

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This thread is amazing. I'd buy a book full of jump stories like these in a second... all different people, different times, different gear, different objects, different writing styles... you name it. I love it.
I really don't know what I'm talking about.

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okay... here's one:

*** Two Paths Cross ***

Since I can remember, I have always been fascinated with flight. As a child my father and I built model airplanes and went to airshows all of the time. All I ever wanted to do was fly. When I was about 10-12 years old, I saw the National Geographic Special about Phil Smith and Carl and Jean Boenish doing their jumps from the Captain in Yosemite. I can distinctly remember uttering aloud that I would do that someday. Then, during my sophomore year in college - in the first class of my major course work (a biology class) - I was sitting in a desk waiting for the professor to start when a long-haired lanky fellow hobbled into the room. He was favoring one foot as he sat down in the desk in front of me. I asked him what had happened to him and he said, "I had a bad landing off of the Promenade lattice crane last night... ...you ever heard of BASE jumping??" And, of course, I HAD heard of BASE jumping and thought to myself, "I'm on my way!!!" This guy's name was Lyle Murphy. Good Ole Murphy.

Lyle and I talked a good bit about BASE jumping over the course of the next few days and he was surprised that I had even heard of it, much less that I wanted to do it. This was fall of 1989 and few people had ever even heard of BASE jumping. Most people, when you mentioned it to them, just shrugged and looked at you like you were from outer space; I learned very quickly to just shut the hell up about it as it only drew blank looks. Anyway, Lyle eventually introduced me to Earl Redfern.

I remember my first impression of Earl: here is this guy - who lives in a small commercial building inside of which he has set up a number of sewing machines and cut tables and various other implements of manufacture - who does tree-cutting work by day and sews a line of outdoor clothing and gear by night. His place was very disheveled... all kinds of neat stuff was lying around everywhere. Earl had huge boxes full of climbing gear: ropes, harnesses, all kinds of pro, crampons, ice tools... you name it, Earl had it.

Earl also had parachutes. I remember the first time I saw a square parachute up-close and personal: I was bewildered. Mind you, I had never been to a dropzone… never done a skydive. My only experience with parachutes were the games I had played as a child with flat rounds sans lines in grade-school recess. So I suddenly found myself in the midst of two BASE jumpers and lots of cool gear.

Over the course of the next few months, I'd drop by to see Earl - party with him, watch BASE videos, trade stories about our respective childhood and not-so-childhood escapades. Invariably, Earl always had the better story to tell. And that was okay, because I loved to hear him talk and he loved to hear himself talk. Earl would talk endlessly about his endeavors - his climbing, his paragliding, his women. We'd share beers and stories - sometimes until dawn.

I remember the first time I witnessed a BASE jump. Earl and Lyle had decided to go jump a tower nearby and I went along to ground-crew. It was at night, the moon was out and the field around us was akin to a description in the story: _'Twas the night before Christmas_. The moon on the breast of the dew-covered field gave it a luster of mid-day - with dancing sparkles of light beaming off of the blades of grass. It was cold and our breath condensed in the crisp air. The wind was still. My existence seemed surreal. It took an eternity for them to climb the distance necessary to jump (in those days, we'd go to at least 600 feet to feel comfortable for a freefall - this tower is nearly 1200 feet and this night they chose to climb to the top). They finally made it to altitude and after a few minutes yelled (what? no radios?) that they were about to jump. The adrenaline surged through my body in anticipation - I thought it was strange that I was so nervous and it wasn't even my butt that was on the line. I couldn't believe my eyes when they leapt... just a few breathless moments and it was all over. They were both laughing and grinning and congratulating each other. I was happy to have been there. We drank some beers back at Earl's place and talked about their jump.

Over the course of the next several months I watched hours and hours of video (lots of Mike Allen and Bryan Scott video with the Brothers Harrison, Hoover, Payne, et al. - those were some of the guys I looked up to as I was coming along) to learn what to do and what not to do, learned how to pack a BASE rig, practiced emergency procedures over and over and over. Then one day Earl announced that we were going to West Virginia - that this would be a 'BASE trip'. I was terribly excited. I knew that on this trip I would see a dream come true.

We headed off to West by god Virginia in Earl's van. It was packed with me and Earl, Lyle and Janice (Earl's girlfriend at the time). It was also packed with rigs and ropes and video equipment and lots and lots of beer.

It's still a strange thing to tell people that my first parachute descent was a 230 foot direct-bag from _____ _____ Bridge. And so it was... it was like jumping into the arms of God. I basically said, "Here I am!" - did my count and went. I didn't un-stow the brakes and I riser-turned 180 degrees into the wind to land, according to plan. I didn't stand it up, but I didn't care - I had done it!

I believe this is about the time that Earl earned the nickname 'The Wild One' from his peers. News spread of his putting students off of objects with no prior skydiving experience and it made others in the BASE community cringe. Neat thing about it was there wasn't anything anyone could do. Hell, we were renegades - we didn't care! As far as I know, there were only a few minor injuries to any of us and I'm aware of at least six people who did their first jumps under Earl in this manner. Only a couple of us actually went the distance to earn our BASE numbers - the rest bowed out after their first and second jumps.

Back to the 230’ S in W.V. Janice was next and she was not so lucky (she, like me, had no prior skydiving experience). She had the misfortune of missing a toggle (this was the old zoo-toggle system which required a sort of wrist-rotation while un-stowing) on the left side. She managed to un-stow the right side and, with no canopy experience and while struggling with the left toggle, let the right side fly. She frapped-in after about a half rotation of the canopy and ended up with deep scratches on her left shoulder, elbow, forearm and palms (no elbow or kneepads back then - we did wear helmets, though). Earl had to scrub out the bits of coal (there used to be a coal yard there where the big grassy berm is now) that had lodged in the scratches... we did get her really drunk prior to the coal lavage. The plan for me the next day was to freefall The Bridge.

The next morning I ordered a huge breakfast at the 'ern Pancake H' and ate none of it. I was so anxious and apprehensive. My biggest concern was taking a delay long enough to fall past the steel before pitching the pc. I was very apprehensive about how I'd perform during freefall - having never done it before beyond the db I’d done the day before. The landing was of some concern, but I had some time in cessnas and lots of radio control airplane experience, so I figured I could manage that portion of the jump. I just needed to fall past the steel first, then pitch.

The time came to suit up - I would be the first jumper off that day (it was Saturday, September 15, 1990 - one month before Bridge Day). I was wearing a t-shirt, a sweatshirt beneath that, a pair of blue jeans and tennis shoes, and a camouflage jumpsuit over all of this. The rig was a black talon with rainbow colored tuck flap - the canopy was a mesh slider-up astrobe packed in a deployment bag. We did have the appropriate nine foot bridle with a 45" f-111 pc. The closing loop had been loosened for reduced pin tension. That's just how it was done, then.

This was it. I went through my procedures again while riding in the van as we approached The Bridge. We weren't aware of the existence of a catwalk in those days... we went from the rail - how else?? I remember feeling every expansion joint until finally the eighth one bumped under the tires. The van came to rest right in the middle of The Bridge. I got out, climbed up onto the rail, said my prayer, gave my count and jumped. The freefall engulfed me. Warp factor five, Mr. Sulu. I remember looking outward at first, then straight down below me. What an incredible rush!!! I saw the horizon of the gorge engulf me in my peripheral vision. The swoosh of the wind picking up in my ears. I did maintain my count, but I got into the freefall so much that I held the pc until four and a half seconds (planned 3 second delay). I ended up getting open about halfway to the water. I had a 180 opening, which I quickly corrected with riser input, got turned around and un-stowed. I had the canopy lined up on the lz but thought I was going to overshoot, so I turned 90 degrees left out over the river to bleed some altitude. Once I completed the turn I realized that there was no way for me to make the lz and I ended up landing right in the middle of the big whirlpool there beside the lz.

Fortunately for me, Earl had chosen to shoot video from the ground. As soon as I hit the water I cutaway. However, I was unaware of the dangers of parachutes and water (of course not having had water training) so I tried to save the parachute by dragging it behind me as I swam. It didn't take long for me to realize that I was getting nowhere and abandoned the Astrobe to save myself. It was about this time that the reserve container on the talon began to waterlog and, shortly, I was no longer able to hold my head above water. I could see Earl making his way out to help me and once he got to me, we were buddy-breathing; he'd hold my head up while I took a breath then I'd go under while he took a breath. We did this for what seemed like minutes. It wasn't long before my muscles were spent and we still weren't touching bottom. I finally resigned to myself that I was going to die and I remember telling Earl, "Go ahead, leave me... I'll be alright." He shouted, "SWIM MOTHERFUCKER OR WE'LL BOTH DIE!!!!" ...so I swam some more. Finally our feet touched the bottom and I dragged myself to the shore and collapsed. I couldn't move. After a short while I managed to drag myself up into the woods and stash the gear, as planned.

So, I have Earl to thank for saving my life! ... and I did thank him. Even up to the last time I saw Earl, he always talked about how that was the closest he'd ever come to dying. Thankfully, that still holds true for me.

Blues,

Gardner

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...In fact, the only "BASE" jump in the 1900's was from the Statue of Liberty by Frederick Law.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once again I have gone and misstated the facts. Tom was kind enough to PM me with the following timeline of fixed object jumps in the 20th century. I should have done a little research before I made this erroneous post. Sorry about that.

1906
A British expatriate named Bobby Leach jumped from the Rainbow Bridge between Niagara Falls, Ontario and Niagara Falls, New York with a parachute in 1906, landing in the Niagara River. At that time the bridge was only about half the distance from the falls that it is now (original bridge was destroyed by ice in the '30's). Leach was a daredevil, twice swimming across the Whirlpool rapids as a stunt. He later jumped from a plane over Canada but was blown back and landed in New York.

1912
Frederick Laws jumped from the torch of the statue of liberty in February, 1912. A photo of the jump appeared in one of Phil Smith's Baseline mags.

1914
Stefan Banic, a Slovak inventor, constructed and tested a prototype of a parachute in Washington, D.C. by jumping from a 41-floor building and subsequently from an airplane. His patented parachute became standard equipment for U.S. pilots during World War I.

1917
Major Orde-Lees and Lieutenant A. E. Bowen made jumps from Tower Bridge on sunday, November 11, 1917 with Calthrop's 'Guardian Angel' s 150' into the Thames to attempt to convince the Air Admiralty to buy parachutes for their pilots.
In theory, there is no difference bretween theory and practice. In practice, however, there is. -

"RIP Forever Brian Schubert. Always remembered, Never forgotten" - Leroy DB
http://www.johnny

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I have a very similiar experience to yours. It was around that same time even. A road trip to that "basement bridge" with Jester, Spacey Tracey, Mayot, Troy and a couple others. We parked the van at the bottom and walked up to the catwalk. Putting all my trust in Jester holding my pc for me. I must've said ...ok here I go 20 times scared as hell and for some reason whispering up there as if being discrete in broad day light. Finally I go and scream my head off.....whack...open...land. I swear I bounced into that pile of black coal and got a good taste of it too. They were all laughing and I didn't know why until I saw myself inthe mirror back at the van. I looked like a coal miner and I didn't care cuz' I did it. Once off that one was enough and that was just the beginning of the trip......and am still here.
is it dark yet

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*bump*

Sorry, I NEED more....please?
HISPA #93
DS #419.5


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