Skydiving!

Katie D.

June 5, 2010 - 9:43 PM

It was the most incredible rush. That feeling of leaving the airplane and heading straight down. Tipping forward to be headfirst for a brief moment (my tandem guy was great) and then leveling out, spinning, seeing the horizon line shrink as we got closer and closer to the ground. Enough time to think my hands were cold, to remember to scream, to catch a glimpse of my other friends falling around me. Then, 55 seconds and 8,000 miles gone by in a flash, the parachute opens, the roar of the wind calms to nothing, and everything is silence and beauty.

It was incredible.

My friends and I have been plotting this for over a month. We researched the companies around here, and picked Skydive Oregon, got a group of seven together (six or more gets you a discount) and saved the date. For the last week I've been on pins and needles, praying for a clear day to jump. They don't let you off the ground if it's raining or if the clouds are lower than jumping height. This week's horrible weather made me so nervous-after all that waiting, I was sure we would have to reschedule or just cancel.

But this morning was the most beautiful blue sky I've seen in weeks. The drive north to Mollala (about two hours north of Eugene) was so beautiful. That same stretch of I-5 looked so beautiful in the bright sunlight, high-flying clouds, and the knowledge of what was to come.

I really wasn't very nervous. I was too busy taking care of my companions. One of my best friends, Maddy, jumped despite her serious fear of heights and lifelong dislike of falling. Scared of roller coasters, game for skydiving. But she was pretty nervous the whole way up. I guess we all were to some extent. The expression of my nerves was a farewell note to my family. Skydiving is one of the very few things my mother has expressly forbidden me to do, so I've been keeping this particular plan secret for all this time. So I had to write a note in case I jumped and splatted. It was a pretty good note, but I'm glad she didn't get to read it. (I called her right after I was back on the ground, and she was super excited for me after saying "Oh thank God I didn't know.") Sometimes it's better to ask forgiveness than permission.

Anyway, back to the day.

We signed our lives and rights away in the office and waited our turn for the brief skydiving training (basically, "this is what to expect, this is how you hold your arms and legs, and if you forget everything, your tandem guy will just take care of it for you.") Then we waited. We spent more than two hours sitting in the sun, chatting, and watching people fall out of the sky. It was really an amazing thing to witness: plane after plane taking off, then barely visible black dots tumbling from the tiny plane, and then the parachutes opening and floating down in a multicolored flock. Watching people land was pretty intense. It looked like every single landing would be a disaster. But only a couple of people really wiped out, and even they got up laughing and embarrassed.

Then, finally, it was our turn. Our group of seven, our tandem divers, and the two photographers my friends had paid for all crowded into our flightsuits, snapped a couple of pictures, boarded the plane, and took off. The plane had two long benches, which we straddled and then had the instructors clipped on. My guy, Stephan, was hilarious. I think he could tell I wasn't nervous, since he was joking and laughing. He asked, conversationally, "so who's the most important man in your life?" When I responded with an enthusiastic "You are!" he laughed and said I was a smart girl. We would be the second to last pair to jump. I was holding Maddy's hand across the aisle and just watching the world fall away. We gained 15,000 feet in about 15 minutes, gaining the altitude we would be losing so soon.

Stephan leaned forward and yelled "Do you ever get that feeling like you're forgetting something?" I'm sure you can imagine there was a tiny bit of hysteria in my laughter.

Then it was time. My friends Joel and Rhonda jumped first with their cameramen and instructors. It was amazing how fast it happened: the door was open, they were scooted to the edge, we cheered, and then they were gone. And it happened just that quickly after that: Madeline, Marshall, Maddy (with an extra yell of encouragement) and then it was my turn: scooched out to the edge, legs hanging over nothing, and then that incredible feeling of falling, flying, thinking of nothing except the rush and beauty.

The falling was amazing. The parachute ride was amazing. Two completely different sensations of flying. First, the roar of the wind, the feeling of being completely out of control and plummeting, forgetting there was anyone in the world with me and just absolutely loving every accelerating second. Then my instructor's hand in my field of vision, with the altimeter on his wrist, indicating it was time to pull the chord. I wasn't even afraid, just exhilarated as we suddenly were floating instead of falling. The roar went silent in an instant and everything was completely peaceful. And so, so beautiful. Stephan let me steer, too. Pulling down hard on one side of the parachute to make a whirling 360 degree turn left, then right. Beautiful.

The landing was pretty funny. The instructors basically take care of it: you're supposed to lift your feet for the first bit, then either step down, run a few steps, or slide. Stephan said run, which is something I don't do well under the best of circumstances. I took one step and then fell over, him on top of me, in a mess of parachute strings. But it wasn't a hard fall, just an embarrassing one: most of my friends witnessed. Then I was up, amazed to be on solid ground again.

Amazing, every second of it. I can't believe it happened, can't believe it's over already. That feeling of complete abandon in the fall is something I'll never forget. June 5th, 2010. I'll never forget.