Flying

Though J & I had talked about it for the better part of the last nine years, I've sworn there was NO way that I was ever going to jump out of a plane. No way, no how! I have no problem with the idea of riding around on a parachute, paragliding/parasailing/hang gliding (not a chute, but...). I don't like the fact that the chute is not open when you exit the plane. I don't like the fact that you have the possibility of falling somewhere around 13,000 feet and hitting the ground and going **splat!** if it doesn't open. and I do NOT like free-fall as experienced on amusement rides like this one. Hate, hate, hate.

Now, I got this brilliant idea to send J to his death (aka skydiving) for his 30th birthday since he really wanted to do it forever. AND, even better, I'd con his friends into going too so that I could stay on the ground waiting for the inevitable splat (J really likes crazy activities to be a shared group experience). Well, for one reason or another this plan failed - horribly. Due to money, relocation or absolute refusal to throw themselves out of a plane (because they're smart like that) only one other person decided to go. Hmmm... J likes groups. One is good, but more would be better. So, after deciding which location to send him jumping at, I chose Orange Skydive.... and the tandem jump page said that the free fall was 50 seconds... Then I started to think that I could maybe put up with 50 seconds of sheer terror to make J's b-day fun. But... What if I wet myself? Well they had THE ANSWER to that on their FAQ's. The other part of the FAQ's that intrigued me was this: Are you so smart you have an answer for everything? That instilled me with confidence, so I decided to go too.

I don't know if I had spent so long worrying about it that I was past worry, or if I was so far beyond fear that I couldn't comprehend it anymore or if I was comfortable with my own impending doom, but I wasn't nervous once we got there. I spent the plane ride up thinking about how just a week ago I was on a plane that I was not intending to jump out of and getting a little nervous, but here I was on a plane, totally intending to jump out of it and I was OK. Then the guys in the plane were trying to get me to smile, but I really wasn't up for it and told them that I had never had an intention to jump out of a perfectly good plane, to which the one instructor replied "I've worked on planes and I can tell you there's no such thing as a perfectly good plane. There are planes that fly and stay in the air, but that's about it." Thanks. That makes me feel better. My instructor, Tim, & I were the last ones out of the plane. It was cool to watch the other people go. It didn't look like they were jumping or falling out - more like being sucked out. I remember being at the door, knowing it was my turn and it didn't seem real at all. It didn't register. There were no thoughts of "here we go!" or "Oh, shit!".... just blank thoughts and "OK..." Then we were out and my thoughts were "OK..." and "well, huh!" and "I wonder why I don't feel like screaming" and "this is nifty" and something along the lines of "this is a really interesting perspective on everything" Sometimes it was hard to breath like when you face into a stiff wind. I remember feeling safe in the harness because I was strapped to something, anything, even if that thing was another person named Tim who was still plummeting at the same rate as me with no further support. At some point the chute opened and it was weird because I didn't feel a sense of relief - mainly since I hadn't had any thought of "it might not open" It was super cool hanging out up there and looking around at everything. We couldn't quite see home, but Tim said on good days you could see all the way up there. I mistook cows for deer (perspective is really thrown off from that high - that's my excuse & I'm sticking to it!). I also really enjoyed when Tim sent the chute into tight turns & spirals - it felt more like flying then. Eventually all three of us made it down safely.

Yay! I'm definitely glad I did it. It was cool. I don't know if I'd do it again unless it was cheap or free. If it was not an expensive hobby, I'd maybe consider taking it up because it was as close to real flying as I think I'll ever get unless I can find a wizard to give me wings (no, folks, Redbull doesn't actually work). I don't know. I wasn't all adrenaline rushy. Maybe I got myself into too much of a zen-like state. The thing is, I was talking with Dave last weekend about what I'd want to go back and witness in history and my answer was "the beginning" whatever that was. I'd really like to know whether there was one. Being a scientist (kinda) - I have to believe in mass/energy conservation and it makes sense that it just always was. But I can't get beyond my human experience. I can't comprehend the idea of "no beginning, always was" because everything that I've ever experienced had a beginning. So maybe that was the thing: the whole experience was so far beyond my comprehension that I just sat back and watched it because I didn't know what else to do. Regardless, it was pretty dang cool and I'd recommend it.