fred

It just means that the night is young.

Er... 2 1/2 total... I was in 2 3-ways where it was guy-guy-girl. (There was a strict "no guy-guy" thing going, which was A-OK with me). In the end, it wasn't that exciting. Although, I still think that with the right girl, it could work. The 1/2 was a situation where I was totally in love with a girl, and there was a clear opportunity for me and her, and another girl. I freaked out, and ruined it. Clearly *I* would have been man enough for both of *them*, but I just wanted the one... It was messy, and in hindsight, I should have just rolled with it. Bygones.

I'm about 4 1/2 hours away, which *so* beats the 8 1/2 hours to Quincy. I can't promise that I'll be there, but I'll try.

Remember that you're into it to have fun. I'm one of the worst skydivers that ever lived, but I know a couple things: (1) I can pull my ripcord, (2) I can handle a malfunction, and (3), I can land without dying. In order to jump by myself, I had to learn a few more things. I had to gain confidence that I could (A) stop a spin, (B) gain stability if lost, and (C) pull that ripcord even if I fail at (a) and (b). Fuck it. Have fun. Spend some more money if you don't get it right away. Realize that on each student jump you don't *have* to accomplish anything other than LIVE. If you live, you can do the rest later.

Can you be more specific on which thread? I can't seem to send any PM's, and I'm getting the same message. I've logged out and back on, and I'm gettin gthe same message.

(continued from part 1) So, as many of you know, I did jump on day 2. Here's how it went down. After my less than thrilling experience on day 1, I was undecided. Hell, it's part of my personality. I hate to commit to something, or, more importantly, to commit against something. So when I left after day 1, I told manifest that I would be there at 8am the next day. I figured that the worst case scenario would be that I'd not show up, and forfeit my $25. Of course, nobody knew that I was even thinking about quitting except me. So I also told my parents (read: my ride to Eloy), that I was supposed to be there at 8 am the next morning. And the night passed (with some other stories to be told soon), and morning came. I woke up, once again thinking that I would just go to the airport, hang out for a bit, and make up my mind. Well, Marc (My AFF coach) spotted me as we arrived, and said, "Great! I'll go sign us up," and ran off to get us manifested. There was no "deciding" at all. I was there, therefore, I was jumping, and, as it turns out, I was jumping in 15 minutes. I got all my equipment together, got suited up, and we went over the dive flow. Now, I'm barely confident that I can fall stable. Hell, I've had 18 hours to forget everything I learned, and now we've got to change some things. First, poor old me had to jump out of the otter this time. I wanted that skyvan. Two jumps and I'm spoiled. Hell yes, I'm a turbine snob. "I have to leave out of the side of a plane? Hell, I may as well be in a Cessna!" I force him to let me practice the exit, which involves me climbing on the dummy, rehearsing, "ready set go", and I think he might have glanced over. Anyhow, he said it was perfect, but we need to get to the tram. Here's the plan: We leave the airplane, and wait to fall belly to earth (to my non-skydiving (whuffo) friends: when you leave the airplane you're traveling about 100MPH horizontally, it takes a couple seconds to slow down from horizontal speed, and gain vertical speed. Skydiver's call it, "the hill"). When I'm belly to earth, I do a full circle (check my heading, check my altitimeter, yell my altitude to Marc, get instructions). That last step? That's the one I never remember to do. Instead, I stare blankly at the JM for a couple seconds, and continue on. No waiting for the thumbs up, I got stuff to do here! So, anyhow, the plan. After I do my faux-circle (hee! pun!), he's going to let go of me. I'm to turn right 90° and face him, move forward and dock with him, turn left 90°, turn right 90° and dock. Repeat as time allows. (er, for nonskydiving friends, a dock is what it sounds like: I grab onto my JM) And, of course, here's how it actually happened. We ride up to altitude, and my JM is telling me to relax the whole time. Apparently, even when I am relaxed, I still look terrified. I'm not all that surprised by this. Anyhow, many unnecessary deep breaths, and people start getting out. I don't think I ever made it out without the plane having to turn around, but I also think there was always a group ahead of me, so I refuse to take responsibility for slow exits. Anyhow, a nice 180 in the otter, and our turn comes. I present, and we climb outside this beast. Surprisingly, it doesn't suck. The back exit of the skyvan is God's gift to skydivers, but grabbing onto a bar and rotating my body out the door? Not even in the same ballpark as climbing out on the strut of the Cessna back home. Hell, even with the 100MPH winds there, I still heard my JM, say, "OK" (my cue to start the count). And as I was rejoicing in how unintimidating this exit was, that's when I screwed up. The exit count is: (1) left leg outside, shout, "ready". (2) swing the left leg inside shout, "set", and (3) swing the left leg outside and carry your body and shout, "go!". And as soon as my jumpmaster said, "OK", I swung my left leg inside and shouted "ready!". Folks. That screws up the entire count. I screamed, "D'Oh!" And set my left leg back down. In hindsight, I still don't know what I should have done. Maybe I should have held my leg there and made eye contact, but it was too late. Fortunately, Marc knows his shit, and he wasn't fooled. I started over. "Ready! Set! Go!" Another beautiful exit. Hell, if there's one thing I can do right in skydiving, it's falling stable through that hill. I have a dozen "beautiful exit" comments in my logbook already (actually, I think this jump is the only "weird exit" I ever got, because of the whole, "I tried to trick him" thing). Belly to earth... Check heading, check altimeter, yell altitude to jumpmaster, and turn right. That first right turn? It didn't go so well. After we landed, I found out why. I didn't wait for him to give me instructions, or a thumbs up, and he was still holding onto me (trying to stop my turns). Oh well... He let go, and soon I was facing him. I extended my legs, and brought back my arms just a little bit, and the most amazing thing happened! While I was falling toward the earth at 120MPH, I grabbed onto another human being. And that's a lie. My forward motion was a little off target, and I ended up moving close to him while he slid in front of me. We didn't quite get a dock, and he gave me signals that clearly said, "Okay! Good enough, turn left." I ignored him, turned a little more right, and docked. I don't know how he did it, but he shrugged and conveyed, "Okay, that's fine. Whatever." I let go, turned left, turned right, docked. Turned left, turned right, docked. (for those concerned, yes, I checked my altimeter between every move) Folks. It was the second most amazing thing that happened that weekend. For those of you who have been there, you know, it's pretty cool to hold on to somebody at terminal. It's pretty fucking cool to be the person doing the docking. I was amazed, I was exhilarated. I stared at my altimeter from 6,000ft, waved, and pulled. And I saw Marc fall away, looking up at me, giving me a big thumbs up. I landed, uneventfully, about 10 yards outside of the grassy student landing area (really going to have to work on my accuracy), and made the long trek back to the school. And he half-chastised/half-praised me for the "watching him fall away" part. He said, "That eye contact. That was the most amazing thing, but you really should have been checking your canopy." He loved that jump, and it showed. I don't blame him. He had seen me just 24 hours before, pretty much flailing during the freefall and looking like a nervous wreck and having no real control over my body, and *he*'d been the one who taught me. He felt pretty damn good about having brought me so far, and I felt pretty damn good about having made 90° turns! From this point on, instead of feeling like Marc was a bit nervous about jumping with me, we were friends. He was excited to do another jump with me, and I with him. It's amazing the comradery I felt with him after just a couple hours of him, well, saving my life... Next jump was uneventful. Yes, I manifested right away, but it was a 30 minute call so I was able to go talk to my parents about my amazing jump. We left the airplane, I did a 360° turn to the left while he slid so that he was my end point, we docked, 360° the other way, etc., etc. They weren't perfect, but they were nothing to scoff at... I think I undershot the first turn, and overshot the second, which is exactly the opposite of what I was afraid of (and therefore, exactly what I expected to do). I landed slightly off the grass. A word about landings. Yeah, I've got no accuracy, but I land fine. My very first jump, I had to PLF because I didn't flare at all. I PLF'd one other time because, ... Okay, I don't know what was wrong that time... the flare seemed to do nothing. But the other 17 jumps I had at that time were run out. I have yet to just stand one up like the experts can do. And I mentioned this. And my instructor described the 'two-stage' flare that I'd read about, and said that I should try it. Step 1: Level the canopy. Step 2: stop forward motion. So I made two more jumps that day, and lets just say that my jumpsuit got a little dirty... :) Anyhow, uneventful (but fun!) 360's behind me, it was time for something that I'd been looking forward to since I first put my foot in that Cessna here in Michigan. Yes, folks, I was to do flips. First time in a couple jumps that I had some serious "lay on the floor" time, and Marc took me into the room and taught me how to do them. (Simple, bend your knees and bring them up to touch your elbows). It took me a second to grasp that he didn't actually expect me to be a gymnast, and that I didn't need to bring my arms down, but I got it. I also remembered something I'd read on dz.com that said to, "break the broom". It's an easy visualization, and it helped me. Because folks? My backflips were things of beauty. I was sad that I was only supposed to do two! I wanted to do more. I love that feeling of letting the wind take over, and then exerting control over it. But in the end, I'm glad that I had to stop doing backflips. Because the other part of this jump was tracking. Extend my legs, and swing my arms back like I'm swimming. ... Er.. and then wobble and tumble, apparently. I was supposed to track for 5 seconds. Considering that after about 1/2 of one, I was all over the place, I relaxed, got into my arch, and got stable. Looked at my JM for approval, and tried again, except this time, I went slowly. What is it they say? "Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast?" Folks, when I get it right, I track like a motherfucker. I could feel it, and I could see it. I saw the ground moving below me and thought, "My god! This is incredible!" And then we have the #1 experience of the day. While I was feeling this euphoria from tracking well, I looked over, and there was Marc, tracking right beside me. It's an image I have in my mind that is so clear that I keep thinking I have a picture of it. I'm actually scared that this image might leave my mind, that someday I won't remember how amazing it was to be tracking right along side him. Of course, another landing just off the student area. I go back, and he says, "Ready for your graduation jump?" And I said, "No." I let him know that I needed some time, and I went to meet with my parents, and we had lunch, and relaxed, and I told them about my incredible experiences that day, and then we sat down to watch some jumpers. Seeing as this day was even nicer than the saturday before, I expected more tandems, and I wandered off to tell Marc that I was ready when he was. And, of course, he got us on a load almost immediately. My graduation dive: *dive* off the airplane. No holding on, pretend that he isn't there. He manifests, and I have almost no time to get loaded up, let alone have him explain to me *how* you dive off a plane. We get near the tram, and hop on the mock-up that's there, and I'm trying to attract my parents' attention, saying, "I'm going! I'm on this load! Watch me graduate! Watch me graduate!" And, as I should have been, I got chastised. Marc says, "Are you paying attention to me or are you looking at the crowd?" I blush and say, "Yep, looking at the crowd." He says, "Well, you must think you know enough, let's go." My parents had waved, and I knew as well as I could what I was about to do. Tram, airplane, altitude, 180, jump. Easy as pie. I was concerned at one point that I was supposed to do a 360 and I was (what I thought was) about halfway through, and he was right in front of me. I figured I overshot him, but stopped where I thought the 360 was. I did my backflip (perfect!), then started to track. Track sucked, and I stopped, got stable, and did another one, and it rocked. I locked on to my altimeter somewhere near 7k. And so slowly it fell. I knew I was early, but I also knew that I had hit dead-on all of my tasks. I just watched my altimeter drop until 5500, when I waved and pulled. I played under canopy for awhile, and then had the most off landing of my life. I knew there was almost no wind, but the indicator kept changing directions. When I was at 500ft, I turned into the wind, and knew I was looking at desert. My graduation jump had the biggest trek ever. I was so tired by the time I got back to the equipment shack. (a 280 sq ft canopy is a heavy little bugger to carry!) Marc debriefed me. I'm cleared for solo jumps. That fact didn't hit me for a few hours. Um, Hello? I'm jumping by myself? Am I really ready? Sure, I know I'll survive a jump. I know I can get stable, and I can turn, and I can read my altimeter, and I can pull. When I first started, my friend and I were looking at the training program and we were very excited! In 20 jumps, we could jump together! It would be incredible! Now I know that getting off student status doesn't mean that you're a capable skydiver. It simply means that you know how to not die when falling from an airplane. Still, it's a step in the right direction. And I'm very excited for the day when I can fall from an airplane, and not die--with my friend.

There's a good paper by Vernor Vinge (another futurist) about the technological singularity. Basically, it says that once we develop artificial intelligence that meets or exceeds human intelligence, one of the first tasks the AI will be set to is to design a better AI. Recursively applied, "human" intelligence will be left in the dust. Whether they'll destroy us or whether or own laziness will destroy ourselves is left to debate. There's a decent summary here, and it's worth a read.

Well, I'm still a student (just passed AFF after numerous attempts in a SL program, blah blah blah, you can read about it elsewhere), and I'm anxiously awaiting warmer weather to get more practice. But while I'm waiting for the local dropzones to open, I'd like to start visuallizing the maneuvres that I still don't know how to do. Sidesliding has been covered in the RW forum. I know how to do turns, backflips, forward/backward motion, and tracking. But there's more... Can anybody describe how to do a frontflip? A barrel roll? Backflying/backtracking? How soon should I be learning these skills? Are there any other important skills I missed that I should/can practice before my A? I understand the basics. Like to forward flip I want to present more with my feet than my upper body, but how does it differ from tracking? How do barrel rolls differ from sidesliding? How do I know if I'm flat tracking rather than diving? Any other advice for somebody who knows he needs a lot of practice, but can't find any altitude for another month or two?

Ah... the memories... We're going way back for this one, a picture of me after landing my first freefall. All the way back to fall, 2001...

What's the penalty for cutting away anyhow? I just don't know why it would be better to go straight for the reserve (other than a time savings).

Wow, y'all are underachievers. "Congratulations! In your life you will have sex with 18 people."

The others first, then talkback if I have time.

Whuffo you stack 'dem perfectly good canopies?

Sorry, I was mistaken. I'm pretty sure the sign reads, "No Golden Knights Exits"... Perhaps my DZ just has a thing against military folk.

Oh! Grammar nazi stuff! I get to play, too! Hee... She writes well.

word.

No doubt. I think my closest is about 3 1/2 hours away in Chicago... I'm awful nervous about my next cessna jump. On that note, a question: What are good exits from a C-182 that a person who's just off student status can do? I've never done anything other than climbing out onto the strut and doing a hanging (poised?) exit. Can you dive out? What's that sign that says, "No King Air exits!" mean? I'm sure I'll find all of this out pretty soon, but my local dz isn't opening until April, and I'd like to fantasize about not having to climb out and hang.

Isn't the more interesting question, who doesn't? I bet those folks have a lot of jumps. My first jumpmaster on the SL program was Scott. He was a big man with a southern drawl that really put me at ease. Kinda like a giant teddy bear yelling at me to climb out of that cessna... :) My first AFF jump was with Marc. He was a Golden Knight who initially was very intimidating, and in the end just a complete blast to jump with. I really wish I could jump with him some more, but he's a couple 1000 miles away. Of course, I don't know eithers' last names. They're in my logbook. And *I* know who they are.

I'm not familiar with the state laws that might ask for paperwork, but I'd like to stress that it is far more important to let your family and friends know what your wishes are. The license is a step in the right direction, but if your family steps forward and says that you would not want your organs donated, the word of your family will likely override what you might have on your license. It can be a morbid conversation, but let them know that you want to donate. That in the unfortunate possibility of your death, you want to try and help others continue to live. There is other paperwork you can fill out, including a "living will". Here in Michigan, a living will is not accepted, but we have another form (and unfortunately I can't think of the name of it), that I have on file with all the local hospitals stating that I do want to be removed from life support if diagnosed with "Persistent Vegitative State" or "Braindeath". It also says that I want to be given narcotics, even addictive ones, if it will help ease my pain. And lastly, it declares my wishes in the case of my death. Primarily, I want to donate any organs that can help somebody. It also states that, in the event that my organs can't help anybody, I want to donate my body to science (read: left for medical students to train with). I'm glad I have this information on file, and I think I've thoroughly expressed my views to all of my current friends and my close family. A lot of them don't understand, or agree, which makes me sad, but they know and will respect my wishes.

I'm not doubting this, but why? What's different about a racer that makes an RSL so unsafe?

Wow... 3-4 weeks, eh? I'd almost be willing to put that in a production environment.

Actually, I had the opposite problem. I had to bring my arms forward and my legs in. The instructor really helped me with my arch on the ground. I wish somebody had been that forceful with me practicing my boxman at the SL dz. He really helped me figure out what I was doing wrong (actually correcting it? Well, I'm still working on it. I need more practice). The skyvan was heaven. I could look over and talk in almost a normal voice before exit. Being able to actually stand up in an aircraft is a blessing. I'm a bit frightened of my next 182 jump, since I'm going to have to do all that crap again. And spotting? I know how, I've done it well, but the GPS spots were *so* much easier.

(disclaimer: this was originally written for a more general audience than dz.com, but I thought I'd repost it here for your enjoyment. It's kind of long, sorry about that). Brief backstory. My parents are retired and living in Arizona. I'm unemployed and living in Michigan. So we all had some freetime, so I went to see their "winter estate", and headed down to Arizona for a week. Well, it just so happens that my parents live about 15-20 minutes away from Skydive Arizona in Eloy, which is the largest dropzone in the country. So, while I was in the area . . . I started skydiving this past summer, I jumped out of a tiny little Cessna. The Cessna is like a clown car, and we shove 6 people into an airplane built for 2. (picture) Cessna shown actual size So, at GLSD, my home dropzone, I'm used to showing up around 10AM, at which point I will sit around and watch some planes go up and some parachutes land, and then when I've settled my nerves a bit, go and manifest for a jump. That is, I have plenty of time to think about what I'm about to do, and it's a relaxing nerve-wracking good time. Now, I arrive at Skydive Arizona at 8AM, and they direct me immediately into this office, where I explain who I am, what I've done, what we've discussed in email, etc., etc., and then they hand me the paperwork. And folks, I've signed my fair share of waivers before, but this one had me initial just about every sentence. "You may die. If you're lucky enough not to die, you may get seriously maimed. If you happen to avoid getting seriously maimed, you may just get injured. If you don't get injured, well, consider yourself lucky. "But in the case that you do get killed, maimed, or injured, you agree that it's not our fault: That skydiving is dangerous, and you're taking your own risks by even watching skydivers. "And in the case that it is our fault, you acknowledge that people, even instructors may make mistakes that result in your being dead/maimed/injured, and will not hold us accountable. "In the event that you think you want to hold us accountable, you agree that you can't. "In the event that you hold us accountable anyhow, you agree not to sue. "In the event that you choose to sue, you understand that you will pay all legal fees associated with said lawsuit. "In the event that you win said lawsuit, you agree to pay any awarded damages to yourself." Um... I'd say they covered all bases. Anyhow, I was ready to sign away my life, and jump out of some airplanes. I figured I'd sign my waivers, get my brief "transition training", and sit down and watch some divers while I waited for my hour call to get on the plane. Well, I signed my waivers, paid a small fortune, and found out that the guy who was standing around in the room was actually waiting for me. So, this very buff marine guy, wearing his daunting "Golden Knights" fleece, drags me into a private training room, and for the next 2 hours quizzes/teaches me various things that I previously thought I knew. (Examples: "What's the lowest that you'll pull your reserve?" My answer: "Well, until I hit the ground." His answer: "You'd better make that decision before that becomes an issue.") It was obvious that, even after 15 jumps in a static line program, I knew nothing about this sport. All the new stuff that I declared I was nervous about learning? Yeah, I had to learn that. And then I had to relearn everything else. The equipment was all different, the planes and exits were all different, the emergency procedures were (similar, but) different. It was a whole ton of differentness. It was way off the difference scale. And what really surprised me? My instructor was patient with me. He'd ask me something, and I'd answer in what I thought was the correct way, and he'd say, "close, but ..." and spend 15 minutes explaining it to me. I know he didn't make much money for all that time he spent with me, but he was patient, instructive, and, most importantly, unforgiving. Yeah, we went through training, and when we stepped out of that room, he said, "Let me go see when we can get on a load." And I thought, "Whew! I need to sit down and rest. And I can't wait to tell my parents how much I've learned!" (My parents were sitting out there watching skydivers land, which, for those of you who don't know, is a very fun activity, even if you don't want to jump out of a plane yourself. Eloy draws quite a crowd on weekends.) So, as I was reviewing what I'd learned in my mind and waiting for my instructor to come back and tell me that we'd be leaving in an hour, my instructor came back and said, "Okay. We're going up in 10 minutes. Put your rig on." And I did. I rushed to get a jumpsuit (They had tonysuits, which is definately going to be my first RW jumpsuit, because it was so baggy and comfortable and just so cool feeling, but that's another story), and he grabbed me an altimeter, goggles, and gloves. A couple things there. First, I own my own goggles. They were sitting there in a bag next to my parents' lawnchairs. The altimeter? It was my instructor's, he let me borrow it. The gloves? Folks... I'm a Michigander, and while it wasn't exactly the dry heat of the desert that I'd been expecting, I wasn't exactly freezing under that jumpsuit. But whatever, I put on the equipment. And then I heard the call: "Five minutes for skyvan 2", and my instructor told me, "That's us!" And I looked at him and said, "But you trained me to jump out of the otter! I'm not ready for a new plane. Better get us on the next load." And he just said, "It's easy, I'll tell you how it's done on the way there." So we walked to the tram. And he told me about leaving out of the back of an airplane. Folks, the tram? This is yet another thing that I wasn't prepared for. I'm used to walking past the sign "Skydivers boarding aircraft *only* beyond this point" and climbing into an airplane. Here? I hopped on a trailer pulled behind a pickup with some makeshift bleachers on it, and rode it at close to 45MPH along the ground. It was some scary shit, let me tell you. (picture)Midnight tram to Georgia So, we rush to board the plane first (because we're last off), and I'm still thinking in my mind, "Okay, ripcord is here now.", and we take off. My instructor looks at me and says, "relax", and I'm thinking, "You dumbshit! You fucking relax! I'm as relaxed as I'm going to be, okay, punchi? Now you just fuck off and let me think about how I'm about to die." And he kept interrupting my pessimistic thoughts and saying, "Come here! Look out the window!" He pointed out to me the "tetrahedron", which somehow or the other tells me which way the wind's going. Folks? It was invisible. There was no little white arrow like he said he was pointing at. He was making shit up just to fuck with me. And like an obedient little student I said, "Oh yeah! That's it, eh?" I couldn't see a thing except for desert and a lonely little runway. Anyhow, I look at my altimeter, and we're up there. I follow others' cues and put on my helmet and goggles, and my instructor's telling me something but I can't tell what with all the engine noise and that obnoxious beating of my heart drowning out his voice. And thats when groups begin to exit. They were basically in 4's, but it was still the coolest thing I'd yet seen, since I'm used to that tiny little plane (shown above), and then it's our turn. I turn and present my side for him to grab onto. I'm pretty sure I always overdid that, turning my side to him a little bit far from the door, and then tiptoeing back into position. And it was easy. "Ready" "Set!" "GOOOO!" That was me. I did the count. I said, "Hey! We're jumping now!" And I just stepped off backward into the openness. And it was amazing. And then things went poorly. Check heading. Check altimeter. Yell altitude toward jumpmaster. Skip important step. Practice pull. Repeat. Repeat. Check heading. Check altimeter. Yell altitude to jumpmaster. Again skip important step. Try and fall stable. Y'all? That jump was a mess. The important step I skipped? Watch my JM for instructions. Things like arms out, legs in, knees together. All that instruction that would have helped me fall stable? I didn't bother to pay attention to him. I fell wobbly and chippy and altogether unstable. I kept looking at and reading my altimeter, and then see him pointing, and realized, "Oh yeah! When I read that 5500 on my altimeter, I was supposed to pull." And I did what I had laughed about in training. I realized that I was low, reached for me ripcord, then thought, "Hey! You forgot to wave off!" So I let go of my ripcord, waved off, and then pulled. (Proper course of action? Forget waving off, and just pull.) Whatever. The dive was a mess, and my instructor let me know. (Amazingly, that was probably the one dive of the day that I actually landed accurately). I got to the ground, huffing and puffing, gathered my stuff, and went back to the student area. And that's when I got yelled at. Did I mention that my instructor was a marine? Because, uh, some of that boot camp helled through. He said something like, "Okay, what happened? Yeah, yeah... Okay, come in here. Lay down, bitch." And that's when he had me exercise. Folks, I'm not in good shape. Muscle tone? Yeah, you can find it over there, on that other guy. And he put me face down on the ground and had me hold up my body in a practice arch. I'd done this before, on my own, and it's some pretty tough work. But I've never had somebody yell at me for failing. He'd say, "Okay... Show me a good arch. Yes, that's it. Good. Hey! I didn't say to put your legs down. Show me a good arch. Okay. Show me a turn. Good. Hey! Get your legs and arms up!" And I'm on the floor dying. He's having me hold this arch on the ground and I'm screaming, "But it's so much easier when the wind is supporting me!" And he's yelling, "Feel the burn! Feel the burn!" And then, when he was satisfied with my suffering, he said, "Okay. Ready for another one? We've got a 20 minute call. Grab a rig and check it out yourself. Be all set in 10 minutes." And at that moment, I hated my instructor more than I've hated any man in all my life. I wanted to rest. I wanted to relax. I wanted to give up and to never have to do those stupid floor exercises again. Hell, I half expected him to suggest it: "Yeah, that first jump? It really sucked. Perhaps this isn't the sport for you." But no, he was like, "Yeah, that first jump? It really sucked. If you don't do better we're going to have to ship you to Guantanamo Bay until you can improve." And we got on the plane again. And this time, something very exciting was happening. My Dad was on the same plane. I was sitting across from him, and sitting next to his video guy, and I was just not paying attention the entire ride up. I was so amused at watching the expressions on my Dad's face, since this was going to be his first time jumping out of an airplane, and he was obviously very nervous. And I was very amused. We got to altitude, and a 12-way or more left, and the plane did all sorts of weird bounces, and it was my turn. I got into position, presented, and realized that my dad was jumping right after me. I looked my dad in the eyes, smiled, and "ready. set. go." and I jumped out of the plane, looking at my dad as I fell away. (picture) It ain't so high This jump went much better. I remembered to wait for instruction (one signal, consistent through the rest of my jumps: bring your legs in), and checked my altimeter, and pulled on time, and everything went smoothly. And that jump? I had no fun. I loved leaving the plane staring at my Dad, and I liked the idea of it, but I really didn't have a good time. And I told my instructor that I needed a break. I'd catch up with him that afternoon. I went and had lunch with my parents, watched some landings, and still couldn't decide if I was going to jump again. We sat down, and my parents said, basically, "You'd better sign up if you want to jump again." So I went to see what was going on. And my instructor had about a dozen tandems to do, and there was no chance of fitting me in for a couple hours. Still undecided, I told them I'd be there tomorrow, and we left for the day. And I did not know if I would ever jump again. To Be Continued . . .

Yep... I have the exact opposite problem. I need to bring my legs in. I'm good after something like a backflip or just leaving the aircraft, but after tracking or forward motion, I forget to bring them back up. I tend to compensate with my arms to stop forward movement, which leaves me pretty unstable. I'm working on it!

I'm not a camera flyer, but I saw my first "professional" video when my dad did his first tandem video this weekend. Perhaps some of my suggestions will help. First, I love Prost's idea of presenting the freefall both in slowmo and in regular speed, preferably in that order. Second, you mentioned, "a few experienced groups leaving", and let me tell you, on a first jump out of an airplane, you remember *everyone* who leaves before you. Tape them all. They all add to the drama of the tandem student's first jump. I'd also say that if you have any spare time, you should try and hang "around" the student, and try and get some other shots that they'll remember. If you use stock footage, keep it short. My dad's video is a lot of fun to watch, and he's glad he has it, but it could have been a lot better without much effort. The camera person interviewed my dad and asked, "So, why are you skydiving?", and then, because he pointed me out, asked me something like, "So, your Dad's skydiving today, huh?" He then shut off the camera, and disappeared for 15 minutes, while my dad and I sat around and chatted with my mom and the 5 other tandem jumpers that were there. If the camera person had taken any time, he could have put together an interesting interview of the people we went into the plane with. I'm not saying he needed to wait there until we jumped, but it would have taken him 10 seconds to see who my Dad was talking to, and another 10 each to ask them a question. It would have made for a more unique and more memorable experience. (I have other complaints. Such as, the guy made the video like he was rehearsing for MTV, and my dad is 55 years old, and that's not quite fitting, but I digress). All I'm saying is that this video person could have put about 2% more effort into it and made a video that was 50% better. I think the customers would appreciate it.