Yes...I took the plunge so to speak. This past June I went to Las Vegas for a weekend of gambling, drinking and praying. I did more than gamble with my money. I guess you could say that I gambled with my own life. But sometimes, you need to take some risks to understand what you are living for...to truly appreciate what life means. So, I took the risk and decided to step off of a perfectly good plane. The day started early, waking up at 6:30am. I didn't have too much of a hangover because I didn't let myself drink too much the night before. I figured that if I were going to be jumping out of a plane and trusting that my instructor would make sure we landed safely, I would do him the favor of not already being halfway to throwing up! After a small breakfast of oatmeal, bananas, and orange juice, we went to the pick up point. The Monte Carlo. There were already a few people waiting in the van and a couple more showed up shortly. In all, there were 9 of us jumpers in the van. The time was 7:45AM. On our way to the jump zone, we were all required to sign some paperwork basically saying the following: 1. You can die. 2. If you die, you cannot sue us (regardless whether or not we were grossly negligent). 3. Who do we call if your chute doesn't open? Obviously, we all signed the paperwork without a second thought. The drop zone was about 30 minutes outside of Vegas in a desolate valley across from nothing but another casino. As we got closer to the "Sport Aviation" center, we grew excited. It would only be a matter of minutes before we were on our way. The time was 8:30AM. Dale, the owner of Las Vegas Extreme Skydiving, took us into a classroom (closet) to weigh us and show us a couple of videos. In the first, we learned the following from a gentleman that can only be described as a geeky disciple of ZZ Top: 1. You can die. 2. If you die, you cannot sue us (regardless whether or not we were grossly negligent). 3. If you have questions about this...talk to an attorney. In the second video, Dale, presumably reading off some cue cards teaches us the following: 1. You can die. 2. If you die, you cannot sue us (regardless whether or not we were grossly negligent). 3. If you have questions about this...talk to an attorney. 4. Oh yeah...don't forget to put your arms up, arch your back, and listen to your instructor. Just go with what he says. Upon completing our videos, we were ready to get fitted for our 1970's era jumpsuits. Just putting these relics on caused a few of our comrades to be possessed by the "Two Wild and Crazy Guys" from Saturday Night Live fame. That, or they were still somewhat drunk from the night before with less than 30 minutes sleep in preparation for the skydive. After shelling out $250 apiece for the opportunity to test fate, plus another $90 to document it, we were ready for our hands on training. One by one, we were instructed to lie face down on a 2 inch pad. Painstakingly, our instructors taught us to: 1. Grip your harness when you first exit the plane. 2. Arch your back and bend your legs back. 3. After a couple seconds of stabilizing during the freefall, extend your arms. 4. Keep arching your back and bending your legs. After a what seemed like a minute, maybe two, we were ready. The time was 9:30AM. The first group was on their way. All two of them. 20 minutes later they are back. Problems with the headset. Our pilot needs to go get a new headset. The time was 9:50AM. Another 20 mnutes later the first group is on their way again and 20 minutes after that, they are back. The second group is on their way and back after another 20+ minutes. This goes on, with delays for refueling mixed in, for another couple of hours. Finally, I'm in the next group. The time is 12:30PM. The plane pulls around to where we are waiting, and to all of our surprise, the pilot hops out and announces it is time for lunch...for him. He takes 20 minutes for lunch and when he comes back, he needs to refuel. This takes another 20 minutes. Finally we are ready to load. The time is 1:20PM. My first real close up look at the plane goes something like this... Oh Shit! We are talking a real small plane...single engine, enough for 5 people...tight. After getting past the rust and patchwork that makes up the craft, I get myself situated underneath the instrument panel to the right of the pilot. As we taxi and pick up speed, I realize that there is no going back now. Once in the plane...no refunds. Even if the plane seems like it could break apart at a stiff wind. We are off the ground and climbing...and climbing...and climbing. Our instructors have told us that we will be reaching an altitude of 15,000 ft when we jump. More time to freefall. I'm somewhat lucky in that my instructor, Jim, is a member of the Flying Elvis squad that performs nationwide. He has even jumped into Mile High Stadium. That settle my nerves somewhat. However, that is quicky offset by our rapid climb to altitude. The higher we get, the more nervous I become. Although I try and tell myself I'm ready, the fact of the matter is I'm starting to shit my pants. The roar of the engine combined with the wind coming through the cracks and openings in the aircraft make it difficult to talk. We finally reach altitude and Jim instructs me to assume the position. I'm on my knees and he attaches my harness to his and tightens them well. I've got my goggles on and we are ready. The pilot opens the door. I'm really shitting my pants now. Jim puts his right foot out the door onto a step above the right wheel base. I follow suit. I duck my head out the door, lift my chin and lower myself as much as I could. At this point, the wind against my face is cool and forceful. I can see the ground thousands of feet down...it feels like I'm walking the worlds highest plank. And then we are off. I see the ground...the plane...the ground the sky...and the ground. We've tumbled off and are now freefalling. After just a couple of seconds we are stabilized and in our freefall descent. Jim has let our trailing shute go and it helps to stabilize us further. I'm arching my back, have my legs bent back, and have my arms and hands out. All I can think of at this point is the ground. Wow! The wind feels like it is holding me up. Do I keep my mouth closed? It feels kind of weird when I have it open. I hope my chute opens. Am I doing this right? These and many other serious questions enter my mind. This is wild! So intense...so freaking crazy and yes scary. The ground is coming up quickly. Jim pulls the rip cord and whump...from 120 miles per hour to 20 in a second. Talk about violent. And what a relief! My chute opened! The world's biggest wedgie, but wow...I finally am able to catch my breath. And we are now floating peacefully down. After a short bit, Jim hands the reins to me and teaches me quickly how to operate the chute. He has me turn to the right and so I do....a corkscrew move. We are moving much faster now rapidly in circles to the right. I can feel the g-forces rising and I slow down and straighten out. I go to the left and do the same thing. This time after I pull out, I've just made myself somewhat dizzy and kind of nauseous. Jim takes over the reins and prepares us to land. We are still kind of high and he needs to get us in position. Smooth landing...and I'm shaking. As much from the fear still in my body as the adrenaline that has flooded my system. I am still somewhat in disbelief that I actually jumped from a plane. A fantastic, exciting and wild experience to be sure. But it was so much more than that...I'm sure that I couldn't even begin to adequately explain how it feels, the emotions I went through, the sense of accomplishment I now have. What I can say is that it does put fear (whatever it may be) and how I deal with it into perspective. Will I do it again? Maybe. Maybe next time I won't be as fearful and be able to enjoy it even more. But I did enjoy it...how could I not? I was flying!
