skydive
I jumped out of a plane today.
I had been day dreaming of this day for weeks. Driving around between house and work, accidentally speeding as thoughts of skydiving filled my mind and adrenaline filled my body.
The day of the jump I awoke after just a few hours of sleep. It is surprisingly easy to wake when you know your goal for the day is landing safely back on the ground. I met up with some friends and started the 3 hour drive to Monterey. The drive was pretty uneventful, just a bunch of excited people trying to sit still for 3 hours.
We arrived at the airport just a little late, but the staff didn't seem concerned in the least. They handed us our 8 page waiver packets and sent us away with a pen, and trembling hands. We all sat around a heavily graffiti covered table in the airplane hangar and began filling out the paperwork. It basically said: It is not our fault if you die, and don’t damage any of our property. Fair enough. As we were filling out the waivers they opened up the hangar doors and things got real.
The Hanger was a dimly lit football field sized room. A couple of small planes were stored on the far side, and a plane I recognized from the pictures was positioned front and center. They pulled the plane outside and parked it almost picturesque. As this was going on the instructors began making their way into the hangar, checking their gear and going about their business, not a trace of excitement on their faces. Hearts pounding, we were getting ready to explode.
Not long after we paid our fees and turned in our paper work we were each called out to our respective instructors. They gave us the rundown on skydiving procedure, how to jump from the plane, where to put your arms and legs during free fall and landing, how to breathe. You know, jump stuff. Then they helped us into our harnesses and showed us the plane.
And then the fog rolled in. Just like that our skydive was cancelled. Never before had any of us experienced such utter and complete disappointment. We were literally minutes away from boarding the plane and setting off for what we expected would be the most exciting thing any of us had ever done. As one friend put it: we had full body blue balls.
We waited 3 hours hoping the fog would break. It never did. We drowned our sorrows with beer and crapes, and then played hackeysack on a Santa Cruz beach.
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A couple months later we went back for attempt number 2. Apart from one of my jump buddies passing out and deciding not to go through with it, everything else, for the most part, went according to plan. The morning fog burned off, we got our paper work filled out, and we boarded the plane.
I was fourth in line, three friends in front and one behind. The plane was very cramped. The windows were hazy yellow stained plexiglass circles, and the door was a plexiglass pane that could be lifted much like a garage door. We gained altitude at an amazing rate. I havn’t flown much, (twice) and was in awe at the view and at how quickly we were climbing. To my left was Erik, of the five of us he was most outwardly showing signs of anxiousness, likely because he wasn't there for the first attempt. I was sitting there staring out the window, surprisingly calm, swallowing frequently to adjust the pressure within my ears. I think a part of me still expected the jump to be cancelled, after all it had happened once before. I was getting lost in thought, but periodically my instructor would bring me back to my senses and remind me again how I was to disembark the plane.
In just a few minutes we were at 15,000 feet.
Things moved extremely fast after the door first opened. There was a roar of noise as the air rushed in and the engines spun. A little red light turned on signaling that we should all put on our goggles. And just like that we began our migration forwards. The first person jumped. I don’t even remember the next two going. Next thing I remember was shuffling forwards… terrified. The fear came on like a light switch. And there I was, standing on this tiny platform at the doorway of this plane. A propeller spinning to my left, and a view like nothing I had seen before in front.
And then I was pushed out of the plane. Monterey is so incredibly beautiful when viewed from above.
We did a flip. My eyes must have been HUGE. And I am certain a F*** was silently yelled out for the initial duration of the fall. I was looking upwards completely disoriented, not expecting that to happen in the least. We straightened out and I got my first view of the world from above. It was spectacular, easily one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. I tried to find my friends in the view but had no success.
Now begins the uncomfortable part. It is extremely loud falling at 110mph. It is also extremely uncomfortable on the ears if you forget to adjust to the differences in air pressure. There was a point where it felt like my ears were going to pop, but the panic inside was limiting my success rate at swallowing to balance the pressure. Breathing for me was also a bit of a challenge. You know how when you stick your head out the window on the highway the air rushes onto your face and you have to adjust your breathing style. It was just like that, only at double the speeds. I had to tuck my chin, otherwise it didn’t feel like I could breathe at all. It is safe to say that there was a point up there were i was freaking out.
The release of the parachute was well welcomed. Not that the free fall wasn't exciting, it’s just wasn’t particularly comfortable. Although I am sure much of that discomfort was due to fear. My ears hurt quite a bit due to the pressure changes, and sound of the wind. And I was breathing like a fish, giant mouthfuls of air, as if I couldn't get enough. My perspective of the world didn’t seem to change much from 15,000 to 5,000ft. It didn't look as if I had fallen 10,000ft. Everything appeared to still be about the same size.
I never looked up at the canopy. Too enthralled with the view of the world beneath me. I don’t know exactly what I was looking at in the distance but it sure was pretty. It was incredibly peaceful floating down to the earth, almost no sound. Therapeutic. Such a drastic change from the roar of the wind at 110mph to the gentle breeze floating downward. I spent a while popping my ears, and saying how amazing the jump was to my instructor, in various reconstructions of the phrase, it was awesome.
After gathering my bearings my instructor Wayne decided to have some fun. He had me pull on one the chords, which sent us into a spiral. This was the equivalent to riding a long sharp turn on a roller coaster. It was so much fun. He then had me let go and pull the chord on the other side, sending us into a spiral going the other way. I could have done that all day. Slowly we made our way towards the airport. At this point I was hoping the whole event would have lasted longer, a shame that it was over so quickly.
One last bit of excitement came with the landing. I watched 30 or so people land before my group loaded up into the plane. Most of them landed gracefully, simply walking onto the ground. A couple landed on their butts. I myself landed on my butt. Wayne later told me that wasn't a part of the plan, and things nearly got ugly with the landing. Those words went in one ear and out the other. Your not messing this high up Wayne.
Funny thing was that after composing myself and meeting up with my jump buddies I realized that I had a lot of sand in my shoes, and couldn’t for the life of me figure out where it came from. It crossed my mind that perhaps the g forces dislodged sand from some crevice within my shoe, but that didn’t really make sense. It took a good 15 minutes before I realized that the sand came from the landing, I did after all land on a sandy hill.
We finished the day off with food and ice cream.
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I would recommend this experience to everyone. Apart from the initial discomforts, it really is a blast. And seeing the world from that high with no railing, or window obstructing your view is impossible to describe with words. Simply perfect.