12,000 feet and falling

This weekend we went skydiving! It was awesome. We had to drive about an hour to metropolitan Tooele, UT, birthplace of me own mother, to get to Sky Dive Utah. (And it turned out the airport is actually located in a suburb of Tooele called Erda.) Eight of us went and jumped and I think everyone had a good time. Three people brought cameras, so we have quite a few pictures.

Like other extremely fun activities, we had to sign away our lives on a two-page waiver. Besides agreeing not to sue if we were hurt or (more likely) killed by a parachute not opening, we also agreed not to sue if we were run over by a plane, bit by a rattlesnake in the field where we landed, or floated into power lines.

Before jumping, we watched a short instructional video and then had personal instruction by one of the staff. We were taught how to “fall correctly” — in the shape of a banana — so we wouldn’t spin out of control. It also helped that we jumped in tandem with an experienced skydiver.

When the time came to go, we strapped on harnesses. Meggan wanted to try on a fashionable jumpsuit — Tyler asked if that’s where the name came from — but we were told they’re not very comfortable. We boarded the plane and flew up to an altitude of 12,000 feet.

At 12K, the view of the Salt Lake was beautiful. Before long we were circling back over the airport and it was time to jump. My tandem instructor, Farris, had already latched his harness to mine, but right before we jumped he tightened the “extra tight” part of the harness that makes it uncomfortable. Then we waddled to the door and jumped.

Skydiving is a sport of contradictory proportions: most of the distance we fell — 10,000 feet from 12K to 2K — was free falling. But it only lasted 60 seconds. Then the rip cord is pulled, the parachute opens, and the last 2,000 feet of descent lasts about 5 minutes. The free falling part is a rush. They say one goes about 120 mph. You get the sensation of being in a powerful wind — you can’t even hear the instructor behind you — and that you are floating. I couldn’t really tell that I was falling, probably because it was happening so quickly.

Farris had the presence of mind to check the altimeter on his wrist and pull the rip cord when we were getting close to 2K. When the parachute deployed, it felt like we were being jerked upwards and then we slowed to a comfortable pace. At that point, Farris told me he was undoing or loosening the extra-tight straps so our descent would be more comfortable. I don’t know if it was my ears adjusting to the pressure change or what, but I couldn’t understand him very well and I was a little worried to hear him saying “undoing” or “untying” or “un”-anything. Loosening the straps caused my harness to drop a few inches from his, but then it was stress-free free-falling for the rest of the descent. He even let me pull on the steering cords to navigate. How special. (It turns out everyone got to do this… special just like everyone else.)

Farris discussed with me how we would land and then a few minutes later we glided comfortably onto the field. What a fun day. Meggan commented that we wouldn’t have anything else to look forward to that day. How true.