Defying Gravity

After 4 hours of sleep I rolled out of bed 05.24. The breakfast tasted ash. It was still dark when we gathered outside Embarcadero Hall 6 am. 23 souls. The only one missing was one of the drivers. However, we had the keys to his buckled old Honda, that by the look of it had survived too many close calls. Our tour guide Alec happily asked: "Who drives a stick?". One of the raised hands was mine. The keys were handed over to Munster, a German guy from my ML class, and together with him, two American dudes and an Italian girl, I got into the wheeled dead sentence.

Before beginning the 3 hour drive we stopped at a gas station. After filling the tank we returned to the car, cheering happily at each other, turned the ignition key and...nothing. The battery was dead. No way, the adventure could not end before it even started! We got out of the car, four of us pushing and Munster behind the wheel (the classic:"Hey dude, loosen the parking brake, would ya?"). A few tired coughs later the engine woke alive, and with even more heart felt cheers we could start our journey.

We got the directions from Google maps (and from Alec: "Go straight!") to the little airport in a nothingness called Taft on the other side of the mountains. Somehow we missed the huge exit sign saying Hwy 33, so there we was in the asphalt desert outside LA, lost. Luckily, the locals knew their home field and we finally found the far-from-straight road across the mountains.

Like most towns inland, Taft is no more than a gas station (people need fuel to get out of there). But unless most ghost towns, Taft has an airport.

The one-way ticket to the heavens.

The first thing we did was signing our lives away. "I have read and understood that the parachuting activities described in the paragraphs above might cause serious injury or death and that I or, in case of death, my successors, will not hold Skydive Taft or staff legally or economically responsible for any malfunction or accident involved in the activities." My signature.

We were divided into groups. I was in group number three. 3 is my lucky number. It was the first time for everyone except Alec. And as a beginner, you don't skydive alone. It's a tandem jump. You get strapped to an experienced diver and he tells you exactly what to do, pulls the strings to the parachute and lands. The skydivers were a strange lot. An old guy with a remarkable resemblance to Hugh Hefner gave us instructions while joking about his five ex-wives. One of the others was recognized as a former porn star. Maybe not my usual crowd, but I'll be glad if I'm so full of life when I'm 65.

We practiced the moves on the floor to have them in muscle memory. Arch your spine. Don't spread your legs too wide, "This is the only time I tell a woman not to spread her legs", Hugh Hefner said. He also told us that he had broken every bone in his body, before he started skydiving, and that this was the safest sport he'd ever tried. How reassuring.

The first group went almost immediately. The rest of us stood on the ground, gazing up, trying to see the tiny white dots. When they got back one guy said it was the best thing he'd ever done. We couldn't wait to board the plane. The expectations were high.

The clouds were coming in and it's not allowed to jump in the clouds. We waited for a few hours for the sky to clear. Group 2 were strapped in their harnesses all along, the tight straps only loosened to let the blood flow to the legs. The weather forecast was alarming, promsing rain during the afternoon. A few of us got some sleep in the couch, I watched skydiving videos and some Olympic sport that I don't even know the name of, a combo of ski jumping and gymnastics. Suddenly the skies cleared and a big blue hole opened up in the clouds. After that everything went so fast. Group 2 got on board the plane. As soon as they returned we donned the harnesses. My partner was a goofy looking long haired dude with crocked teeth. He tightened my harness so hard that my back was arched even in standing position.

We loaded the plane. The rise up to 13 000 ft is the worst. The anxiousness that I hadn't felt before kicked in. I constantly swallowed to depressurize the ears, but my mouth was dry as dust. I had a post-marathon heart rate. I looked out the window on the ground down below. The cars were ants. Oh, heavens! What on earth am I doing? I'm jumping out of a fully functional air craft. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm not brave, I'm just too stupid to be scared.

I sat on Goofy's lap while he fastened the straps between our harnesses. There was some jokes about girls on the laps of guys older than her father and what the harnesses were used for after hours. I couldn't care less about things like that. My only concern was the straps that were pulled so hard I almost couldn 't breathe. The door opened. I adjusted the goggles. The other teams went out. I saw them fall. It was my turn.

I squatted in the door with the tips of my toes outside the plane, my arms wrapped around my knees. The air was cold on my face. Looking down. Hello, world! My mind went blank. No time to think.

My partner rocked me forward, counting "ready", backward, "steady", on "go", out. We fell. Spinning, spinning. Goofy tapped my shoulders as a sign for me to arch. I arched. We stabilized. The 60 seconds free fall felt forever. The acceleration stops almost immediately and the only thing witnessing about the speed is the air resistance. 200 km/h (125 mph). I figured there was no point in screaming because I couldn't hear my own voice.

Goofy pulled the parachute open. The fall slowed down. I looked up. The parachute was all bundled up. Is it supposed to take this long for it to deploy, I wondered. A few seconds later it deployed fully. Afterward, Goofy told that he had had a hard time getting the parachute to open up properly, but during the jump I was happily ignorant and just enjoyed the view. The only time I got my heart in my throat was when Goofy loosened the straps to make it more comfortable and I fell a few centimeters down.

(Thanks Munster for the pix!)

I got the holders and we steered, swinging around in circles so fast I lost my breath. It was awesome. Such a wonderful feeling, floating midair, looping, watching the others below me. Freedom. The adrenaline rush is amazing. It's impossible to describe it without sounding cliche, you have to experience it for yourself. Skydiving is one of the things you just have to do in life, and hopefully it's not the last thing you do in life. Live fully, die happy.

The landing went smoothly, I pulled up my legs and let Goofy touch ground first. The smiles shone on our faces and I hugged Goofy and then ran to hug the others. We had done it! Faced our fears together and bonded.

One hour later the adrenaline went out of my system. I totally blacked out in the car. I don't remember how I got home, but woke up in my bed.

This is not the day I die. How great isn't that?