Just Do Weird Shit Pt3
// January 28th, 2009 // Uncategorized
I’ve been working hard, mentally, if that’s not an oxymoron to turn my one word review of skydiving – intense, into something a little more descriptive. I’m making progress, slowly and can now offer up – super intense. I wasn’t particularly nervous beforehand, but became more nervous once I met my tandem skydiver Freddy (the bald Bavarian). I could detour to tell you how I’m a magnet for Germanism, how Germans follow me the world over, how I can’t escape them, but that’s for another day. Instead I’ll tell you that Freddy is a Skydiving World Champion, listed in the Guinness Book of Records. When questioned he was quite blasé about the whole world record this
“Hey Freddy I heard you in the Guinness Book of Records”
(heavy German accept) “Ya”
“I always wanted to be in the Guinness Book of Records!”
“Just do weird shit.”
Profound Freddie, profound.
He’s been a professional skydiver for 26 years completing 80,000 skydives! That’s not an error I really said 80,000 skydives! For most people that would put their mind at ease. You’d be thinking, ‘oh great it’s not his first day, this guy clearly knows what he’s doing I’ll just hang there let him do his thing and we’ll slowly drift down on a blanket of air back down to the deck.’
That wasn’t what I was thinking.
I was thinking…
‘80,000 jumps? Still alive after 80,000 jumps? You’ve more than pushed your luck buddy, your streak should have ended a long time again, all good things must come to an end.’
Today’s the day you accidentally pick up the wrong backpack, not the one with the parachute in, the other one you brought to work, the one containing a ham sandwich, a Dean Koontz novel and your football boots. Let’s see what use they are when you’re dropping like a stone at 12,000ft.
If we make it through this one Freddy get out, get out now.
I’m not scared of heights, no-one is really scared of heights let’s face it. We all share a common fear of the ground rising very quickly to smack us in the face. That’s what we mean when we say we’re scared of heights. So when the green light comes on, the door is lifted up and Freddie says “okay, here we go, hang your legs over the edge” and you look down you’re not thinking ‘geez its pretty high, I’d like to be slightly closer to the ground if that’s possible could we come down a little bit I’m afraid of heights.’
You’re thinking
‘shut the door you bald buffoon, this is a completely ridiculous idea and I’ll push every last one of you out of the plane and land the damn thing myself if I have to there no way in hell I’m going to jump out of a perfectly serviceable plane with a guy whose luck should have run out 79,900 jumps ago.’
“Get ready, head back” and then whoosh, we’re away and into free fall.
It’s loud and every second it feels like you’re being repeatedly punched in the face by the air, the wind resistance is that great. Freddy is tapping me on the arm and making thumbs up like gestures. As I’m sort of committed, it’s not a ride you can get off, sorry everyone it’s not working for me, up you get and head for the nearest green sign. You’ve little choice but to stick your thumb up as well. Oh yes I’m having a splendid time Freddy, could you turn up the G-force a little? A mixture of the restrictive jumpsuit, being harnessed to Freddy and the drag of gravity made it feel I’d popped all my insides in a blender – one Adam shake, coming right up. If anyone tells you freefall is a pleasant, drag them to a cliff edge and throw them off. They’ll die happy, and the world will be short another liar. The freefall only lasts 45 seconds, then the parachute is released and you start the more serene gliding part. I can see how this part could be fun. You drift slowly to the ground soaring high above everyone, you can see for miles and the descent is gentle and you can experience first hand what it might be like to be re-born as a kite. Personally, my insides still playing Organ Jenga I felt very little but sick. I’m pretty sure I would have been sick right there in mid-air, but I was afraid I might vomit on my shoes, and I like my shoes. I was also conscious that it might be unpleasant for whoever received the sick on the ground..
SPLAT!!!
”What’s that on the car windscreen hunny?”
“Erm…looks like mansick.”
“Oh, that’s good luck right? If a man from the sky vomits on you?”
“Yeah must be. Hey have I told you I’d really like to do a skydive”
Freddy was sensitive to my sickness. “It’s all in your head. There’s really nothing that can make you sick, no pressure on your stomach, just a gentle descent” he said whilst spinning us around and around in the sky. It takes several minutes to reach the ground, the landings are really smooth. I managed to keep my breakfast (just) in my stomach and Freddy completed jump 80,001.
“This is what I’m living for, every day in different places around the planet” he said as we approached the landing.
Each to their own Freddy, each to their own.
Afterwards I stumbled around in a daze. Happy to be alive, happier to never have to do another skydive. My body didn’t feel like my own anymore, words were hard to form, my ears had popped and my nerves were shot. So I just said “intense” to any question asked of me until I could get back in the car and begin re-arranging my vital organs on the drive home to Auckland.
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