Jumping out of a perfectly good plane near San Diego

I knew for a long time that my son was plotting for me to experience skydiving.  A jump had even been scheduled on a previous California visit but had been canceled due to bad weather.  Therefore I approach it as a mission, something I am committed to do.  When it comes right down to it, I could be a sack of laundry falling out of that plane for the amount of responsibility I bear.  We approach the plane.  It is a fairly small 2-engine plane with long benches along the fuselage, seating a dozen.  It reminds me a little of the Cessna I learned to fly 25 years ago.  There’s a vertical rolling garage-like door in the back.  The flight up to altitude is an event in itself.  What a beautiful day!  You can plainly see the barrier island known as the Silver Strand, there is San Diego proper, there is the Pacific Ocean, Imperial Beach, Tijuana.  And then it’s time to roll up the door, and the first solo jumper steps out and drops away.  The greenish brown mountains look so far below us.  Then my son steps out, then his friend Jack does a forward somersault out the door.  Showoff. 

 

Then it’s my turn.  I walk up to the edge of the door with my instructor strapped tightly behind me. Jay gives me a nudge and I step out.  The best way I can describe the feeling is it reminds me of the anticipation of the first time I stepped off the swimming pool high dive or perhaps the first time I ever stepped on stage.  Although this time there are no lines or blocking to worry about.  Gravity does all the work.  That moment at the door is the biggest emotional flashbulb of the experience, and like a flashbulb it does not last long.  Oddly I have no sensation of falling, just wind.  The plane is flying maybe 100 mph and I’m eventually falling 100 mph.  That’s a lot of wind!  The falling part seems like it lasts a long time.  I checked the video later, and it was fully 50 seconds of free fall.  You’re supposed to look around and I do, but it was easier to enjoy the scenery from inside the plane.  It wasn’t as windy in there.  Once the parachute opens the falling screeches to a stop and then it’s another couple of minutes of gently gliding back to the starting point.  Chris, would you like to help steer us using these ropes?  Sure.

 

So, why?  As I said, my son Ben has wanted this experience for me for a long time.  He has jumped over 60 times for work and for fun.  I thought of the paratroopers of World War 2 jumping into enemy-held Europe.  Their jump was a lot harder than mine.  Darkness, unfamiliar territory, heavy equipment, people wanting to kill them.  We still train people to do that job, Ben included.  Now I have a little taste.

 

Useful skill?  In the unlikely event I ever have to jump out of an airplane it won’t be my first time. 

 

Risky?  Sure.  But I do other risky things too.  I am an overweight middle-aged man who consumes meat and alcohol.  I ride a motorcycle.  For skydiving the list of legal disclaimers to be signed was extensive.  As an aside, one of the disclaimers asserted that I completed a 5-minute training session with my instructor.  I’m still waiting for that training, although I suppose I received it OTJ.  But I went horseback riding the next day, and the disclaimers were nearly identical.  Ultimately, I’m probably in more peril just driving to work.

 

Hobby?  The first jumper out of our plan was a fellow named Alan.  He had maybe five or ten years on me.  This was his 92^nd jump.  Like me, his son introduced him to the sport.  He said it keeps him young and vital.  I enjoyed my jump, and there is a lot of technique and mastery and learning available to me.  I’m not sure that’s an investment in time and resources I want to make.  But would I do it again?  You betcha.