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July, 2006
Look, up in the sky
By Mark Martin
I've checked off yet another item on my Midlife Crisis Activity Sheet. Yes that's right, I went skydiving. The weather was perfect for it, clear skies for miles and miles and no real wind to speak of. Mount Katahdin provided a spectacular backdrop at the end of the runway on the tiny Millinocket Airport.
The club I played at the night prior also serves as the new home to Three Rivers Whitewater/Sky Dive New England, where it's all about jumping and rafting. How could I not try skydiving now? It's right there in front of me, couldn't be more convenient. We played the season opener and what better way to top off the weekend than to jump out of a plane?
I didn't get nervous until around four in the morning. There I was lying in the cabin tent trying not to freeze and my mind was racing with thoughts of the upcoming jump. I was hoping I didn't puke while falling through the air. Oh no, I wasn't afraid of dying or anything as silly that. I was more worried about embarrassing myself. I didn't want to get up there and yak all over the runway.
Later that morning as I filled out the waiver and initialed at least fifty separate spaces indicating that I take full responsibility for my own demise, I was feeling quite nervous as well. It all seemed so overwhelming, sitting in front of the nine-page waiver and me without my old man glasses. Once I arrived at the airport I relaxed. I still wished I remembered the Dramamine but decided I was going to have to be a manly man.
The plane was small so only one person could go at a time. The one back seat had been ripped out and we just sat on the floor. It works like this: The pilot gets in and sits in the drivers seat then the jumper gets in and sits on the floor right behind the pilot but facing the tail. Then the jump master gets in and sits in the tail down by the jumper's feet. Then the video chick gets in and scrunches in next to the pilot and the door. It takes about 20 minutes for the plane to take off and get up to altitude. Meanwhile everyone else just hangs out on the tarmac and waits. The waiting did a lot to calm me down. The wheels were in motion and all I could do now was just go along for the ride.
We were going to do a tandem jump. That's the one where the jump master is hooked to your back and he does all the work, you just hang there. We all stood around in the open mouth of the hangar as he explained the harness and the parachute. He also explained it once again on a one on one basis right before take off.
I watched as the first planeload came over the airport at jump altitude. It looked so small up there. I could hear the engine buzzing along. Then we heard it slow down and it got quiet. So quiet that one woman asked, "Did they stop?" Then a couple specks appeared next to the plane and they began their freefall. I could see their velocity. I could see the client and the video chick right next to them. Then the canopy opened into a big rainbow and they slowed to floating. Meanwhile the video chick continued to drop like a stone until finally she opened her canopy. She landed first so she could film the client's landing and subsequent reaction.
I'll take a moment to mention the video chick. Or what I should say is that I'll take a moment to say that I could digress for reams of paper about the video chick. But I won't. I'll save her for a character in my future great American novel. But let's just say for now that when her canopy opened into this black wing looking thing with a bright green stripe down one side, well, I wasn't surprised. And when she began to spiral and fly like Batgirl I wasn't surprised either.
While the second jumper was in the plane getting to altitude it was my turn to get into a jump suit. I'm not exceptionally tall, but that suit was a little less so. Can you say super wedgy? My boys each had their own private room. Not only that, but I looked like I was in the Bee Gees' Las Vegas Review. Now I know where the old disco suits went after the 70s were over. Next I was helped into the harness, as all of its hooking points and safety features were explained again. A bit restrictive, but still doable. The next client landed, the plane landed and the first chute was repacked and ready to go. My turn.
The jump master took me over to the plane and showed me the step that I'd be getting out onto. He stood behind me as if hooked to me and explained how he would help me out on the step and we'd crouch down. The video chick, with helmet cam in hand, did a preflight interview with me and then we loaded into the plane. Even though there was no seat and it sounded like we were flying a riding lawn mower, I still had to fasten a seat belt.
I love flying and small planes are even better. This ride was not a let down. As we rose I was glued to the window. I never knew there were so many lakes around Millinocket. And the mountain, I can't begin to say how stunning that was. We talked a bit, but it was hard because of the noise. He reminded me about what he would ask me to do, and where to put my hands and stuff. He also reminded me to breathe deep and slow. He said that would help keep off the "fight or flight" reaction. Apparently opening the door can trigger that in some people. I just kept enjoying the scenery and breathing. I also kept reminding myself that I was supposed to be getting out of the plane. I was excited, but relaxed.
We got to altitude and I took off my seat belt. Then the door was opened. I love high places. I love to look over the edges of them. This was no exception. I had no problem wanting to get right to the edge of that door and look out. Video chick was the first out so she got through the doorway and onto the underside of the wing to wait for us. The jump master got behind me and started the hook-up process, explaining everything as he went. He was very reassuring, and I had total confidence. He also explained, in case I was wondering, that it was just his cell phone in his pocket. In the movie version of this adventure he will play himself.
He leaned me left and I stuck my right foot out the door to put on the step. It's a small step and the wind out there made it a challenge to get my foot planted. Then came the left foot and finally I was totally on this little step all crouched down. That part was so cool, almost like getting to do something you're not supposed to do (and if it weren't for the giant wedgy I was getting I would have loved to ride out there). The jump master gave the three-count and off we went.
We! Were! Flying! I had heard that some peoples' brains can't take it all in because it's so overwhelming, and I can certainly understand that, but I didn't seem to have that problem. I was able to take it all in. I was able to take note of my surroundings and the scenery. The video chick flew right up to us and around us. She was so close I could reach out and touch her. I made faces at the camera. I screamed like a fool. I let the wind fill my mouth so my lips were all flapping. That should look good.
Then poof, the canopy opened and we slowed down to floating. Bye bye video chick. Suddenly it was very quiet. No more rushing wind sound. Just peace and quiet, and a bit of shushing as the air passed through the canopy. We were able to talk to each other. At this point he was able to unhook a couple things so that we had a little more room. I was still safely connected to him but now I was hanging a bit more loosely. Now I could really take in the view. Rather than try to describe it, I'll just say pick any really cool adjective and use it here. And then just like that we came in for a landing. I almost got on my feet but at the last minute sat down, still, a nice landing. I didn't want it to be over.
And there you have it. I'll definitely do it again. I can see how easy it would be to get addicted to it. The freefall lasted about a minute. I'd like it to last about an hour. Being under the canopy lasted about 10 or 15 minutes. I'd like it to last all afternoon. Oh, and I didn't puke.
I can see myself getting my student jump classes going. I can see me hanging out in hangers and lying on tarmac with all the other skydivers. But then, last winter I could see me climbing The Rockies, hiking through wilderness and eating fire cooked food with all the other mountaineers. A year ago I could see me competing in a national fencing tournament, hanging out in the hotel bar with all the fencers and walking around with my cool guy fencing jacket on. A year before that I could picture myself doing the raft guide training. I could see me setting up my tent in Little Jamaica with all the other trainees. I'd wear Carharts and fleece socks, eat the daily guide-saver meal and drink Jagermeister.
I guess that's the beauty of the midlife crisis. I can picture myself doing all these things. I can picture myself young.
Mark Martin lives in Topsham.
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