We woke up early the next day to sign up for our tandem
jumps. I have to admit that I never really read or watched anything about
skydiving or jumping out of an airplane before we left. This may or may not
have been a good thing. I might have been more scared knowing that you jump out
of a small airplane simply clipped to another person by what looks like a climbing
harness with a chest strap.
Jeff met up
with his private instructor, Ed and began his course a day earlier than us. In
order for us to be AFF certified, we first had to try a tandem and then we
could start our course the following day. Jeff was upbeat before he left us. We
still didn’t know him very well, but he did not seem anxious or nervous in the
slight bit. Maybe since he is a professional hang glider pilot, he feels at
home in the air, a place that many of us believe would only feel this way for
birds and bugs. But, with that said, hang gliding and skydiving are completely
different sports. The element of free fall would be something that Jeff had
never experience and it was evident that he was truly looking forward to it.
Jeff wasn’t
the only one excited, though. Jesse was stoked as well. He didn’t share the
same experience in the air as Jeff, but that didn’t curb his enthusiasm. While
I can’t say that I exactly was excited to jump out of a plane, I can say that I
was curious. What would it feel like to plummet toward the earth? Would it feel
like jumping off a cliff into the lake, like I used to do when I was growing
up? Would I want to hold my breath and close my eyes until I pulled out my
parachute? I wanted to know.
We fill out our paperwork, gear up,
and are herded into the waiting area. At this point Jesse and I have been split
up a little because they have to organize us by our height and weight, I
assume, to match us up with our tandem instructors. My instructor is a short,
muscular guy from Israel. He has such a calm and reassuring demeanor that I
almost can’t believe that he jumps out a plane for a living.
Finally the
time comes for us to file onto the plane. The scent of fuel hangs so thick in
the air I can taste it on my tongue. And as the plane creeps forward and into
the air, my breath comes in shallow pants and my stomach drops away. I try to
glance back at Jesse, but he’s too far behind and so I just watch the ground
fall away out the window. My instructor makes a few jokes, probably to wipe the
fear from my face. The ride up takes longer than I expect and I’m glad for
this. It gives me time to collect myself and to remind myself that I want to do
this. If I really hadn’t wanted to, I wouldn’t have stepped on the plane. I tell
myself that even if right now I could wet my pants with fear, it doesn’t matter
because I am doing this; the only way down is out that rickety, plastic door.
The door
cranks open when we reach the right altitude. I slip on my goggles and feel my
instructor tightening my harness straps and clipping them to his. The person in
front of me leaves their seat and I watch them fall away from the plane. And
then it’s our turn. We quickly hobble over to the door and I see the earth
directly below me. It’s like looking off the edge of the cliff with high winds
that want to sweep you away. I can feel my leg muscle beginning to resist the
jump, but I relax them just as my instructor pushes us out into the fall.
At first, I can’t believe what is
happening. I am falling, plunging toward the ground, and I can’t do a damn
thing about it. I take a big gulp of air and while I am still scared, I realize
I can enjoy the ride down. My instructor pulls the parachute and I feel the
jolt from the opening. And then he gives me a ride. It’s fun, for sure. But, at
that point, my stomach is already a mish-mash from nerves and the nausea is
going to get the best of me if we don’t get to the ground soon. Luckily, I don’t
puke and we have a nice soft landing.
I can feel my hair sticking up in
all directions and I know I am not walking in a straight line from all the spins.
Jesse has had a great time and is ready to sign up for the course. I, on the
other hand, am not so sure. Did I have fun? Hell, yeah! But, did I want to spin
some more? Most definitely not! Jesse and I walk back to the car to share our
stories and collect our thoughts. Jesse says that he didn’t get the spins on
the way down and I begin to worry that maybe it was me and my nerves and not my
instructor spinning the parachute that has made me nauseous. We eat some food
and I become more hesitant to sign up for the course since my nausea is not
subsiding.
We wait for a few hours and talk it
over, deciding that I should try another tandem. We were going to be in Lodi
for a week weather I took the course or not because Jesse and Jeff are going to
be taking it. It would suck if I just had to hang out and watch, but I don’t
want to be nauseous for a week either.
So, I sign up for another tandem
and tell Cathy at the front desk that I am trying to decide weather or not I
want to take the AFF course. My tandem instructor James, a jolly guy from
Idaho, comes and finds me a little after that and begins coaching me in certain
positions I will need for the course. I am a little surprised at this
one-on-one attention because I didn’t see anyone else getting it. He is so nice
and I tell him that I had gotten a bit nauseous on the last jump.
“Well, I
don’t like spinning either, so we’ll stick to the basic stuff,” he says with a
smile.
He shows me
a few other hand signals and then we are called back to the gear room. He gives
me a device that looks like a giant watch. He explains to me that this is an
altimeter. It shows you how far from the ground you are.
“So, at
about 5500 you’re going to pull the ‘chute,” he says to me with a mischievous
grin.
I laugh and
then realize he’s serious. “Really?” I squeak.
“Oh yeah.
My daughter is 18 and has about 60 jumps on you. You’ve gotta learn quick and
catch up somehow.”
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