And so this past weekend I found myself 4,500 feet up, falling to the ground with a man strapped to my back. Of course, I mean that I went Sky Diving.
Why did I go? Well, it just sort of happened. I think a lot of us have similar "risky" activities on our lists of things to do before we die. But I didn't really have a plan to go. But a new girl - let's call her Bella - convinced me that this was the time.
The first thing that bothered me was the waiver you sign. It's very detailed and seems to completely ensure that no matter what happens, they are not at fault (even if they ARE at fault). I almost left because of that. But Bella would not be swayed.
So we sat for hours just waiting for our turn to tempt fate. We watched other daredevils falling to the ground; some with ease, and some who would have bruises the next day. But all walked away with a smile.
And the funny thing is, I wasn't nervous at all. Not when we put on the harnesses. Not when we climbed into a tiny plane with 13 other people. Not even when they began jumping out the door.
As I was strapped to my partner, we "waddled" to the door of the airplane. I put my feet on the edge, leaned back, and we launched out into the air. I couldn't tell you what happened next because I think the sudden realization that I was free-falling towards the ground made my brain shut off. Or it was just busy screaming and wouldn't process anything.
And then I was falling through the sky. It was windy and cold. It was the scariest thing I've ever done. When we fell through a wispy cloud I held my breath in case we're not supposed to breath in clouds.
Then 60 seconds later the parachute opened and we started a slow 5 minute descent to the ground. I think this part was actually more scary because I could collect my thoughts and see that we were still a mile off the ground. The only thing keeping us alive was one tiny parachute.
But the airfield grew closer. And before I knew it we were sliding across the grass on the cold hard ground. I was still alive!
Of course my legs were wobbly, and I couldn't eat food for a few hours afterwards. But it was worth it.
I think I'll go again in a few years once the memories begin to fade. But for now I'll keep my feet planted firmly on the ground.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
And I'm Free, Free Falling
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5 comments:
Well, the good news is that anything else life throws at you will be small potatoes compared to hurling yourself out of a plane.
That's awesome! Good for you - I'm jealous.
Where did you go and how much was it? I'd love to go sometime.
Yeah, so that last one was me.
We went to some place in PA. It was far away and crappy. I hear that South Jersey has some nice places. The cost was $200 per person. and if you want pics or videos then be ready to spend another $100.
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