(see if you can spot my cameos in Sam’s video)

It was either for a birthday gift or a christmas gift, I don’t remember which at this point, that Sam gave me a skydiving ticket.  We originally had to schedule it way out in May, but then minutes before we were going to leave the house the company called and said they were “short handed.”   It took us nearly three months, but yesterday, in a record breaking heat wave, we headed to Camarillo for our dive.

The intake process was very simple and fairly quick.  It was easier than any of the ziplining arrivals we had, and the only training was on what to do with our legs and hands when we jumped.  It wasn’t until I was in the plane, thousands of feet up in the air, that I realized they hadn’t given us any emergency parachutes, nor had they told us where the cord is on our instructor’s chute.   Essentially, if your “instructor” loses consciousness for any reason during the free-fall part of the jump or you come unhooked from him… you’re dead.

That was a little odd, but I wasn’t about to bring it up packed into the back of that little plane and spoil Sam’s fun.  In fact, we were both surprisingly calm for being minutes away from leaping out of a perfectly good airplane.  We went up and towards the Ventura coastline, almost reaching the beach before turning back around and heading inland, always gaining altitude.

The only slight moment of jitters for me came when the little door opened and I had to maneuver my legs out of the cramped cabin onto the little ledge without falling out accidentally.   Even then it would only be comparatively maybe 1% of the nervousness I feel when presenting to a group.  Who would have guessed that someone who gets panic attacks before public speaking would have no problem doing a barrel roll off the wheel of an airplane nearly two miles above the ground.  The strange thing was, I was actually looking forward to it.  It wasn’t until a few years ago that I realized that the tiny part of me that wants to jump off of tall buildings (when I’m up in them) is something not that abnormal.  I’d been looking forward to skydiving for a long time because I knew I’d get to indulge that little devil that says “jump.”

You still don’t actually get to jump though.  It’s the instructor calling all the shots up there, you just dangle your legs out and then they decide how and when to jump.  My guy decided we’d be going headfirst.  I think we rolled two or three times before flattening out belly down.  The weird thing was that instead of any fear I just felt relaxed.  It’s probably the closest I’ll ever get to feeling what it’s like to float in space (even though you’re actually plummeting at 120 mph).  The only thing that detracted from the experience was the dude’s arm in my face or field of vision all the time.  They really try hard to sell you on their gopro video, but I’d said before the jump I wasn’t interested.  They’re so hot for that easy money though that they insist taking the video anyway and trying to sell it to you again when you’re on the ground.  Other than “move your hand” the only other thing I remember thinking was “should I close my mouth?  I’m going to get bugs in my mouth. Wait, bugs can’t fly this high, right?  Right, okay, keep it open then -”

After what seemed like only ten seconds (the website says forty) the chute was deployed and WHAM- all my weight was slammed into the harness at my groin.  It wasn’t the worst pain in my life, but it definitely wasn’t something I could have put up with for more than the few minutes of the parachuting to the ground.  We floated up there for a minute or so and then did spirals – which were even more painful on the harness as the G forces were ramped up a bit since it was gravity PLUS spinning.   After that we glided over to the landing site and it was all over.

My instructor, after we’d opened the chute, had pointed up and said “look, there’s your girl.”  I looked up and maybe two hundred yards away (distances are tougher in the air) there was a little ball falling at the same speed, but above us.  Quickly their chute deployed as well and Sam ended up following us down, landing just a few seconds after we did.

Our experiences were very similar in that there wasn’t anything scary about the whole experience and we found it (other than the pain from the harnesses) relaxing.  Once the parachute deployed it actually seemed familiar to me, and I couldn’t figure out why until we were getting driven back tot he airport.  About a year ago we’d gone para-sailing for my birthday, and since para-sailing is simply hanging from a parachute up in the air, it’s basically the same experience except there’s no freefall and it lasts a lot longer.   And parasailing isn’t painful.  And I could bring my camera.

I’m not kidding about the harness pain.  When we got home and were changing I saw bruises around my shoulders and in one spot below the belt an inch and a half long bleeding cut in my skin.

The instructors were quick to tell us that the solo harnesses are much more comfortable and the tandem ones are tight for safety.  As it turns out, I was also on the heftier side of the skydiving public.  Apparently there is a weight limit of 200 pounds, so the harnesses are made more for, well, the ladies, I think.

I’m not sure I would want to go solo unless I could start from higher up for a longer fall.

Actually what it really makes me want to do is hang glide (hint hint anyone looking for future birthday or christmas ideas).