Hi there! Today, I went skydiving for the first time. Joe has wanted to go for a while now, and I always gave some kind of “snuh” response…
Well, yesterday, I ran into Mira’s 3rd grade teacher, and he had gone skydiving this past weekend. He’s 57, and seems about the same level of risk-taker as myself. Heck! If he can do it, so can I.
He went to a place in Lodi, where jumps are 100 bucks a shot. So, we went there.
I researched the risks of skydiving, and they are practically nil if you go tandem with an instructor. However, knowing that rationally is not the same as believing it, viscerally.
Joe invited Nancy to go with us. She’s his mom, and she’s totally awesome. She’s also 60 + years old. (It had to be told, Nance!) She was ready in a heartbeat. Would have been heartbroken if we hadn’t taken her.
We got to Lodi, paid, saw a video, and signed some forms. I questioned whether I could make myself go when I saw the footage of what the ground looks like from a plane 13,000 feet above the ground. It’s TINY!
My cute young instructor got me into a harness, and Nance and Joe got into theirs. On to the plane!
It was so cute. Like a plane, but smaller. The ceiling looked like hammered tin, and had stickers on it. Getting in the plane, I looked around for seat belts, and there weren’t any. Because we were going to jump out of the thing.
For the first 6000 feet of ascension, I wasn’t connected to anything that would keep me safe. The instructor had the parachute, and I wasn’t strapped to him, yet. The instructor told me that my harness wasn’t tight enough, and that equipment failures like that are the most dangerous thing in skydiving. He assured me that we could watch everyone jump, and then take the next plane. He waited about 30 seconds, and then told me he was kidding. I would have killed him, but he had the parachute, and I didn’t know how to operate it.
At 13,000 feet, the pilot did something that sounded like cutting the engine. It didn’t really stop, but it felt like it. My jolting body caused my instructor to nod at the pilot, who gave me a high-five. Ah, to be young, crazy, and a thrill seeker! The next thing, the door opened, and my husband, the father of my children, jumped out of the plane with his instructor strapped to his back. Next, a bunch of people jumped out of the plane: a cute, slim young woman, and a bunch of cute, crazy-looking young guys. Nance went right before me, and next thing I knew, I was at the edge of the plane, with my arms crossed on my chest. Jump!
We were in the air, and my eyes were shut tight. I couldn’t open them for a while. There was just the wind against our bodies, and the air rushing in my ears. My internal soundtrack was, “Oh God oh God oh God oh God…” After some time, my instructor took my hand, and I held it as he pulled the cord. Whoosh! We were floating, and my hands were on his while we steered, to the right, to the left…
I finally dared to open my eyes in small segments. The beautiful, beautiful earth, with its fields, trees, grass and downright earthiness was laid out like a blanket to the horizon. We seemed suspended indefinitely, and I closed my eyes again, this time to savor the feel of total weightlessness. When I opened them again, my instructor told me to bend my knees, and extend my legs straight out. There was the ground! He told me to stand up, and we landed like feathers.
OK. Yes, I did kiss the sweet ground and spend a second in the fetal position, but that was mostly for drama.
Afterwards, we had lunch at an Ethiopian restaurant. Crazy! They use this big, pancake-like bread for plates, and it’s some kind of fermented sourdough. The food is spicy and exotic. Big deal. An hour before, I had jumped out of a plane.