Higher than a Kite

No, that wasn't a drug reference.

What did I do this weekend? Well, let me see. I changed the oil on the car and the truck. Oh, and I jumped out of a plane. That is correct.

Last October (2005) I did a fundraiser wherein I promised to jump out of a plane if people would donate money to the Maine Won't Discriminate campaign, which was fighting to make sure it was illegal to deny folks housing, jobs, etc. based on sexual orientation. Anyway, I raised $1000 (apparently people really wanted me to jump out of a plane), but on my scheduled jump day, it rained and rained. And on my next scheduled jump date, it rained some more.

Finally, one year later, I did it. It was a crisp, clear fall day, with not a cloud in the sky. Brooke and I headed out at 6:45 am, to pickup Brooke's coworker (for extra moral support) in Portand at 7:15 am. We arrived in Lebanon, Maine around 8:45 am and hung around until the skydiving class started. In the class, you learn the basics of what will happen, what to do, and what not to do. We also got to watch a video of a jump, and a video of some guy with what may have been a three foot long beard talking (the guy was talking, not the beard) about how skydiving is dangerous, and we can't sue if we die. Right-o.

After the class was done, we went back outside to watch some people get ready for their jump. They loaded into the plane and took off. The plain just kept getting higher and higher. "Isn't that high enough?" I thought. But no! The plane kept going up and up until it was just a little speck. And then the plane started dropping out people. It looked like the plane was pooping out little dots. Of course those dots were people. We watched the dots for a minute, and all of a sudden about 5 colorful parachutes opened up. At this point I was pretty excited, but still a little nervous about the whole jumping from the plane thing.

After what seemed like forever, my name was finally called. I met my jump instructor, Herbie, who was very handsome and had pretty hair. He assured me that I would have a great time. I went into the gear room to find a jumpsuit. This was no small task for a short, non-skinny girl with boobs. The jumpsuit I got was okay, except it had probably been worn a billion times and the zipper was sketchy at best. Once I get zipped in, I got to put on a very uncomfortable harness that made me waddle instead of walk. This particular getup makes me look like I have a 48DDD chest, which I assure you is NOT the case. Anyhow, we loaded up onto a funny little bus, which took us to the plane. I was glad that there were enough people to necessitate taking the big plane (I like to refer to it as the "good plane"), as the small planes just looked plain scary. We load (or waddle, if you will) into the plane. There are no seats in the plane, just two benches. At this point I'm pretty well wedged in there, and am feeling very close to Herbie. Because the "jumping door" is at the back of the plane, we actually have to sit facing the tail section; it was a little odd to take off while facing backwards. The takeoff was smooth, and the plane ride was lovely. At one point, I was thinking that we really had to be high enough. I mean, we had to be at 10,000 feet by now. Not so. Keith, who was sitting in front of me, turns around and informs me that we are at 4,000 feet, and we only have 10,000 more feet to go! Herbie is busy attaching his harness to mine, and reviewing my instructions for, you know, exiting the plane. At around 7,000 feet, someone opens the door (a little disconcerting, I might add) and jumps out! He just jumps out the plane, backwards. Ooookay.

At 14,000 feet, I put my goggles on (they're really more like giant clear suction cups -- very attractive) and it's time to go! The jump door is open, and it's my turn. To your left is a picture (taken by Keith, who had a still camera strapped to his helmet, and a videocamera in hand). At the jump door, there was a handle, and my instinct was to grab it. "No," said Herbie, "just hold onto your harness." So I did. He counted one, two, three (my job was to arch my back at the count of three and lean my head back) and we were out of the plane!

I really can't describe the feeling... I was freefalling at about 120 miles per hour, which did cause the leafblower-in-the-mouth effect, hence my billowing cheeks. Keith had instructed me how to hold my mouth so that I wouldn't flap, but at that point, flapping flesh was the last thing on my mind. It was amazing how much control the knowledgeable jumpers had... Keith, videocamera in hand, would get close to us, and then back off. Then he came back and held my hand and spun me around. I'm pretty sure I was screaming, but at that speed, I couldn't hear a thing. I just remember trying to figure out if I was still breathing. It was amazing. The freefall lasted about a minute, and then Herbie pulled the cord for the parachute. There was an incredible amount of force, and I felt like I was being yanked back up.
I will admit that there was a certain amount of relief once the parachute opened.
It was a nice fall day, and I could see the ocean and the mountains. It really was spectacular. Herbie loosens my goggles a little (they really were plastered on) and then asks me if I want to spin. "Sure!," I said, "since we're already up here." Now, I was thinking of a nice leisureley twirl. Oh no. He proceeds to put the parachute in this rapid tailspin, like some sort of out of control amusement park ride, but at 3000 feet in the air. And, as suddenly as it started, it stopped, and we were gliding down to the ground.

Everything went very smoothly, although I didn't exactly stick the landing; being that I am not the most graceful human being, this was not a great surprise. I landed a little hard and ended up twisting my ankle a bit, but nothing some ice didn't fix. When I finally stood up, I couldn't believe I had done it. I was completely stunned that just moments before I was hurtling towards the ground at incredible speed. I can see why people get addicted to jumping...it's an incredible rush unlike anything else. Unfortunately it's a bit pricey (my jump was free, since I did it as a fundraiser!), so I don't see myself doing it again very soon. But you never know...

In the meantime, I can watch the footage that Keith made, which makes me feel like I'm starring in my own music video.