fastphil

That's about how long my current sailboat is...

Nice! What's that "EC-9" number for Carl Boenish? i can't answer that for Carl (in other words, I don't know but will ask him when I see him)...

Say goodbye to the old friends and bring a case of beer and stay late when you go the DZ...

Wow, are you stoned...

Cooling off on the Oregon coast

To me, the passing of time brought on a new significance for the signatures, jogging memories of friends, and the signatures became more important than the jumps logged...

The makin's of a good ole SCR ceremony. We use to have to buy a case to pour and a case to drink...

Mother regulates us all

Well, for one thing, how mullets hung on that long. They still hang in Houston, except when the humidity frizzes them up

I think it's "opening shock", you generally are not impacting anything at opening. Just sayin'

Roger that, and thanks for the fact check. The two boogies are a bit mixed in my head, it's been a few years and a few concussions ago

Not ’79, but I competed (?) 1976 and ’77. Teams did real well too, all of us lived. DC-3s were plentiful and there were times when your could lay on the ground and watch four teams in the air at once, one exiting, one at break-off, one under canopy and another just landing; and that pace would go for hours. There were 101 ten-way teams in ’77. I was on one of the 3s that lost an engine on take-off. We did a go around at about 300 feet and landed without incident (except tight buttholes). I helped a friend out of a tree where he had landed his reserve and saw another reserve rider drug away by high winds after landing. Four teams rode on each flight, so there were no accommodations for cameras, and jump runs ran about one minute apart. I met Carl Boenish, Bill Booth, Jim Hooper and possibly other heroes, and watched spellbound as Charlie McGurr plummeted onto the packing shed roof after a canopy collusion. After-hours the Herd shot off the milk jug cannon, rode a wild semi (truck) around the DZ and burned hay bales in the camping area. N2O was universally available from big industrial bottles though a rubber hose, with lots of beer, smoke, etc. for relaxation. Those were some good ole days…

I've seen that happen first person; funny, but not as funny as the small motorboat I saw that kept circling near a pier after the operator fell overboard...

A couple more pics for old times sake: my tool box and another box

Cool flight...

That is a big deal; do you think ya'll will keep jumping

Hee, hee; different fuckin century...

This one's out of publication

Hammer is right, I still limp occasionally due to one of my few Piglet landings. Reliable also right, some of the Piglet guys would regularly zip thru a grand still in freefall. I loved watching (and listening) to them from the ground when they would hum it down right over the DZ. Piglets were even used as early BASE canopies by the die hards till they realized the strato flyers opened faster.

You're just teasing; you're far too young to have jumped such vintage equipment. Wendy's a time traveler. I loved my Starlite too, except about the five times I chopped it. Funny, back when rounds were mostly being jumped the term "round" was used to describe the freefall formation, not the canopy.

I wonder where he buys shoes.

I was hooking up static lines for a BASE bridge jump when a Texas State Trooper slid his car to a stop and tried his best to stop the proceedings. As he ran towards us from his car he was enthusiastically yelling commands that we had no intentions of following. The four jumpers began exiting quickly, but one at a time, as the incoming trooper continued emotionally instructing us to cease our operation immediately. The final jumper, launching from a four foot tall concrete railing, got my thumbs up just as the trooper was reaching for the his leg strap. Everything was happening so fast now, but like we’re used to in freefall, it seemed like slow motion, and the motor-driven Nikon I was operating was creating an emotionally driven cop. The trooper was getting a good grip on that leg strap and I was telling him “I wouldn’t do that if I were you” as the BASE jumper looked at him and started his slow, hinging exit. As you might imagine the cop could not hold up the 160 pound jumper but could also not let go fast enough so was severely pummeled by the concrete railing he was pulled into, bruising (breaking?) ribs and brutally bruising his ego. That’s my best exit injury story, but I also had a good friend that lost a finger to a small door twin beech because of her wedding ring snagging.

I wonder what it could be... a Tesla is my guess

We all spend a fleeting amount of time in the sky, then we are back on the ground until possibly we go up again, with each jump being the last one. I didn't think it was possible to quit being a skydiver...

Good behavior?, Less drinking?, Plenty of sleep?, not my experience with boogies. I guess skydiving has matured...