Guardians of Grail

cheapbag214s · Posted: Mon 1:44, 19 Aug 2013 Post subject: Shitting My Pants

Shitting My Pants
I am now able to continue the tale about the My Pants activity,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]. Writing Part 1 brought on diarrhea and I needed a little recovery time. So where was I The Recap: I am afraid of height and I jumped out of a plane last week because it is on my bucket list of 60 things to do before I turn 60,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]. See my last post for the full picture.
The drive to the Vancouver Skydiving Center took about an hour. I missed three turns so the woman in my GPS, who I call The Bitch,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], was disgusted because she had to recalculate AGAIN and AGAIN. I was quiet in the car trying to think of strategies to get through this. I decided not to read the liability waiver and I was getting somewhat numb and thought I should just go with that.
We arrived at the Center at 2:00 for our rendezvous with idiocy and/or death. (The numbness bumped up a few degrees.) I walked up to the desk waiting to be handed a 20-page document to complete. Surely there would be sections for basic information, next of kin, five emergency numbers,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], verification of health insurance, my religious preference. Since I was a foreigner, I thought I might have to guarantee that my relatives would assume all financial responsibility for shipping my body home in the event on an accident. The liability waiver would be ten pages long in size five font. To my surprise however, the woman behind the counter handed me one piece of yellow paper. The official paperwork consisted of seven questions (none involving health insurance) and a strong recommendation to have the experience of a lifetime videotaped for an additional $130.
There were five of us jumping that day all first timers. A young woman with impeccable makeup and her somewhat nervous and/or excited father, a slightly overweight guy who, I would guess,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], worked with computers in isolation, and my beautiful daughter Lauren and I. From the office,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], we moved out to the hanger where we met the crew young,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], tall, good-looking guys with muscles and lots of hair. It was an informal orientation. Someone showed us the buckles on a harness; one guy was picking out our jump suits. Someone noticed my sandals and told me to pick out a pair of very used sneakers from a box. The IT guy was looking for a cap that would fit his rather large head. (I guess when you're plummeting from 10,000 feet out of a plane like a fucking dart, a cap is as good as a helmet.)
But I was distracted by the two girls folding parachutes on the floor behind us. The younger of the two was engaged in a flirty conversation with one of the guys when she put about 20 loops of rope in her mouth so she could check her cell phone. The other girl seemed more focused on her task but the cigarette hanging from her mouth had burned down quite a way so the smoke did a nice job of irritating her eyes.
Now I remember watching WW2 documentaries about paratroopers and the unsung heroes who packed their parachutes. This task was taken seriously by men working at tables and concentrating on folding lengths of silk with skill and precision. Supervisors monitored folding techniques and heaven help any man who yawned while packing a chute.
I was handed me my jump suit and urged to hurry as the others were waiting for me,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]. The rest of the so-called orientation and training began to blur no doubt because the cognitive dissonance of watching our chutes being packed and the chances of being alive at the end of the day,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]. Coherent thinking was replaced by fragments and images.
Our plane looks like the model airplane Jon built when he was nine. His was camouflage too. Okay,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], we can wear the leather caps with the red maple leaf. Cross my arms until someone hits my shoulder. Don grab my partner hands, arms or anything else within reach. The door will open. The girls jump suits are too small. The rest of us look frumpy in ours. Those guys did that on purpose. During the freefall pretend I am a banana. Lift my feet when I land. I think that plane flew in WW2 Look at those tiny dots way up high. Oh, the dots are people jumping out of planes. We go over to the landing strip now? Where are the guys we're supposed to wear on our backs? They run over to the plane as soon as they land? Won they be tired? Everybody is getting paired up. I better not be last. We go in the plane? There no room. I sit there?? The plane will fall apart before it airborne. In the air Getting high I going to break my ankle again when we land. Never walk again. It will shatter this time. Brian is pulling my straps nice and tight. I want them tighter. We too high. Someone shows me a big wristwatch with an arrow pointing to 10,000. There's a hole in the plane - no, it's the door. It's open. People are falling out a plane. That bastard on Lauren pushed her out. Two more people gone. to the door and put your feet on the step outside the plane. to the door and put your feet on the step outside the plane. move to the door. The son of a bitch is pushing me. Fuck your feet on the step.
I am out of the plane. Wind. Banana position. Noisy. Open your eyes. Fuck. Keep them open. Falling. Falling. Going up. Much quieter. Brian says the shoot opened. Not helping. Brian is talking. Why? this is on your list, lets make it good. Huh? Wild turning,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], out of control, dizzy,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], gonna throw up. Gonna die. The screaming begins. Turning stops, the screaming doesn People are on the ground. to land in the swimming pool? Screaming fuck. Who is shooting the ground at me? It going to hit me. I gonna be a cripple. Legs up, legs up. Not moving, still screaming. you on the ground quit screaming. Fall back on the ground. No Brian. mom. It okay. Stop screaming. Okay, on the ground. I on the ground. Legs shaking, Lauren laughing. Can get up. Can move. Saying fuck a lot. up Mom. Take my hand. Wait. Just let me stay here. Okay,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], Oh God.
I was eventually able to get up and walk and reason slowly returned,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]. Here what I learned:
We jumped out of the plane at 10,000 feet. On a commercial airline, the captain comes on at 10,000 feet and says you are now free to move about the cabin. The free-fall lasted 45 years (seconds). The wild turnings were corkscrew turns. Sadistic Brian did this at 5000 feet for about 20 seconds. I began screaming at 5000 feet and stopped 2 minutes after I was on the ground. I screamed for a total of 4.5 minutes. Brian told my daughter he had never heard anything like it. He has done over 2500 tandem jumps. I could not talk coherently for about 10 minutes. The shakiness lasted about 20 minutes. I could not comprehend Lauren excitement about the jump. Evidently,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], Lauren fell in love with Shane, her tandem partner.
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