Back in September I voluntarily hurtled my body towards the earth from about 12,000 feet in the sky. I actually was supposed to jump in the spring, thanks to a skydiving class I took that somehow counted as a college credit. (I know, I know. It was my last semester of undergrad, okay?) Unfortunately, the weather was terrible on our jump day so we had to cancel. I was secretly relieved because the jump was supposed to be Accelerated Freefall, which meant I would jump out with two instructors who held onto my arms and made sure I pulled my chute, but after that, I would be completely solo. But the whole time, I would be in control. Like, checking my altimeter to see when to pull my parachute so I wouldn’t plummet to my death kind of control. So I was a little terrified. Apparently the class was supposed to prepare me for that, but damn.
Anyway, I had already paid for the jump, so I was still determined to make it happen–but tandem this time. This way, I would be strapped to an instructor and wouldn’t have to guide myself down to safety. Luckily my dad has always wanted to skydive, so we got to go together! I am actually so grateful for the class still, because I was way more prepared for how jump day worked. I always want to know every detail of what I’m getting into in order to have some control, even if it’s just a false perception. On actual jump day, not a lot of instruction was given, and not a lot of chance for questions, either. So, armored with my class knowledge, (and my dad because I guess I’m still a child), I felt unexpectedly calm.
Naturally I slipped in questions every second I could, so that helped too. (Shoutout to my awesomely patient and constantly positive instructor). As you can see from the photo, it was a gorgeous day. Crisp, almost-autum air, sunshine, few fluffy clouds. I could not have asked for a better day. We had a bit of a wait, but got to watch the process with other jumpers. We watched as they loaded into the tiny planes, then appeared in the sky when their parachutes popped open. We watched the colorful chutes float through the air and gently place the jumpers on the ground. After our wait, it all happened very quickly.
I met my instructor, we boarded the van-sized airplane and packed in so tight I worried the plane wouldn’t even get off the ground. Each of us sat in the lap of our instructors as they strapped our harnesses to theirs tight. I essentially had a grown man as a backpack. We circled for-fucking-ever until we were high enough to exit, and my dad got to jump before me, so I watched him disappear into the atmosphere. I was next.
My instructor and I, together basically one giant person at this point, waddled to the door. I tried to remember my two immediate tasks: 1) look at the horizon, and 2) hold onto the shoulder straps. I did one of these very well. What they don’t tell you is when you’re freefalling toward the earth, your instinct is to look down. I mean that’s where all the cool stuff is!
It was amazing. That initial moment of leaving the airplane is a feeling that is unmatched. I felt like I was freefalling forever. My hands and face were ice-cold. My booming screams of joy were lost in the sky. Once my instructor pulled the chute, we whipped into silence. Since my head wasn’t back, looking at the horizon like it should have, my head snapped back and cracked against a metal ring on my instructor’s harness. Damn my self (still worth it though).
Gliding in the parachute was incredibly calming. It took awhile for my ears to adjust to the sudden altitude change and at first I thought I had gone deaf from the freefall. My internal conversation was literally, “Well, I’m fucking deaf now.” Eventually my hearing returned and I was just in complete awe. Seeing earth’s beauty from that high up while floating in silence gives a feeling that I can’t justly describe. Someone told me that skydiving is the most terrifying yet calming experience one can have. I completely agree.
My instructor let me control the parachute, and we did big turns and dives (which I will later regret because they gave me intense motion sickness. Still worth it). We caught up with my dad and actually made it to the ground before he did. When we landed, my instructor told me to put up my feet and he plopped me down right on my ass. Then I got to watch my dad land, then we hugged all wide-eyed and euphoric.
Skydiving is something I would totally do again if my friend needs a buddy, but I don’t need to do it again–once was enough of an experience for me.
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