Tag Archives: skydiving

August 25, 2012

The CASA Boogie

By Wyrd Smythe

The other entry for Skydiving Saturday is another USENET post I made to rec.skydiving in August 1999.

And there’s a nice connection to posting these in August as I did with the three last year describing the first and second Tandem jumps and the first AFF jump. The girl friend and I made those two Tandem jumps in August of 1997, so August is the month it all began.

While we started AFF school that September, and finished the following March, the day of jumping described below (one of our most fun times as the drop zone) took place on a very hot day in August of 1999. A lot of things started to go downhill after that, so in a number of ways this represents one of the high points in our lives. It was definitely one of those days to press in your memory book.

Two things to know: a CASA is a type of aircraft (in this case modified for skydiving), and a “boogie” is a skydiving event/party (jump all day and party all night; rinse; repeat).

In this old post (unlike the previous one which I left mostly untouched), I’ve made a few minor edits to smooth out some of the writing. (I wasn’t consistently using first-person present-tense, for example.)  I’ve also replaced the ALL CAPS  and *italics* plain text forms with their respective font effects.

Back in the Air!!

For no good reason other than it was just so wonderful, I gotta tell the world: Back In The Air!!! Went skydiving for the first time since last September (long story, won’t bore you more than I am). Wife and I got in eight jumps this weekend at the CASA Boogie (out at Hutchinson Skydiving).

Whah-Hoo!!! Nothing like it on earth. Better than chocolate! Almost better than sex (probably safer [grin]). Can’t wait to get my “knees in the breeze” again this weekend!

The Flying Bus

Imagine a bus. Now stick a couple wings on it and hang a big turboprop on each wing. Throw away the seats and rip off the back so it’s open to the air. Now fill it with about 25 people sitting closely together on the floor all facing the open back in three rows.

Everyone’s seatbelt buckled? Here we go. That big open back is our “wide-screen TV” where we watch the runway drop away behind us. Everyone cheers (it’s obligatory). Around 1,500 feet we can take off our seatbelts, because we no longer care if the plane develops a problem. If it does, we’re outta here!!

Around 3000+ feet someone yells “Hey, Asshole!” The rest of the “load” all gleefully holler back, “What!!” (This all is also obligatory.)

On those hot days, things get a lot cooler around 4000 feet; you get a blessed break from the pounding heat. It’s especially nice when you’ve just sweated out a quart of liquid packing your rig for the jump.

Around 10,000 feet we start standing up, double-checking our rigs and the rigs of people near us. The excitement becomes palpable, and the Tandem passengers out for their first skydive start to confront the fact that they are about to jump out of this thing! The different looks on their faces is memorable. Fear, tension, excitement… faces locked in grins they don’t feel.

They are about to experience something unlike anything ever. They are about to fly!

It takes about 15 minutes to get to altitude (14,000 feet). Plane’s going on jump run now, and the red “get ready” light comes on (in bigger planes such as the CASA, we depend on the pilot to get us to the “spot”… on smaller planes the jumpers direct the pilot). The first group moves onto the tailgate and gets in position.

The Moment of Truth

The moment arrives. The green “GO-GO-GO” light comes on. The first group yells in unison, “READY-SET-GO” and vanish off the ‘gate. The next group moves into position, counting off the seven-second delay (to ensure clear air). “READY-SET-GO” and they, too, drop out of sight.

Another group and another. Then my wife does a running swan dive off the back, and it’s my turn. Having botched the back pike twice, I decide to try something different: a running exit, a hop off the edge (the earth beautiful 14,000 feet below). I tuck my legs up, curl and lean back. Hard.

I spin backwards four times as I start to fall, accelerating from zero to 120 MPH in about 10 seconds. I see: sky/earth/sky/earth/sky/earth/sky/earth and then I unfold into a spread position that stops the spin dead.

I’m about 12,500 feet now, falling at a steady rate (120 MPH) towards the earth. At this altitude, there’s no sensation of “height”, no sensation of falling, just this incredible 120 MPH wind rushing past you from below. Words can never communicate the incredible experience of free fall.

I spin, I back flip, I front flip, I barrel roll. I bring my arms in and cup my body into the best “track” I can and watch the countryside crawl below me. Can I track all the way to the south end of the runway? Nope, I’m just not that good… yet. Maybe someday.

Keep an eye on your altimeter. You’re burning altitude fast. 1000 feet every six seconds! Free fall from 14,000 lasts about 70 seconds (assuming you “dump” at 3000 feet). “Ground rush”—the sensation of the ground getting closer—is different for everyone. For me, it starts about 4000 feet and is very pronounced by 3000 feet. It’s amazing to watch the ground speeding towards me (and a little scary!).

Soon, all too soon, the numbers get low, and it’s time to “wave off” (in case anyone’s above me) and deploy. I reach behind, grab my “hacky” and throw it out to the side as hard as I can. The high-speed wind grabs my pilot chute and the deployment sequence goes off without a hitch. My chute, my lovely, life-saving chute unfolds above me once again.

I’m “in the saddle” by 2500 feet and doing a whole different kind of flying. Now it’s calm and relaxed. I’m my own personal little glider aircraft. I can steer for thermals and try to extend the aloft time, but gravity always wins and brings me ever closer to earth.

I can see the air filled with the colorful canopies of the other jumpers. Huge nylon “bed sheets” in bright and bold neon colors. Every one different, every one proclaiming the owner’s taste (or lack thereof) in color scheme.

Soon, it’s time to get in position for the landing run.

At 1000 feet I’m approximately over where I want to land. I turn and ride the wind for the downwind leg until about 600 feet. Then I turn across the wind for the base leg to 300 feet and finally turn into the wind for the final approach. Here comes the ground… flare!! And I’m back on Mom Earth.

Terra Firma!

I’m—as always—grinning from ear-to-ear. The gut-wrenching fear-thrill of my first dozen jumps a couple of years past forever lost. You can get used to anything, but still the thrill is huge. You just jumped out of an airplane and fell to earth. And survived. Again. Incredible!!

And now, time to pack my faithful chute back in its bag for another go. And another, and another, until the day is done. To continue to live the dream of flying!

As they say: If riding in an airplane is flying, then riding in a boat is swimming. To experience the element, get out of the vehicle!

And to the old question, “Why jump out of a perfectly good airplane?”

The answer, “The door was open!”

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August 25, 2012

AFF Graduation!

By Wyrd Smythe

It’s Skydiving Saturday at Logos con carne! I’m working on the upcoming TV Tuesday, so this weekend I’m going to coast a bit with some easy posts and archive excavations. It’s also a good time to enjoy the end of lazy summer before we go back to school. After all, Logos CC is also about philosophy and computers and science (oh, my). There are many meaty topics on the grill for later, but for now it’s free fall time!

This first bit was a post to the USENET group, rec.skydiving back on March, 1998. It’s about when I graduated from Accelerated Free Fall (AFF) class, which is one of the programs designed to teach you how to skydive. The August previous, my girlfriend (my fiancée when I wrote the post) and I had made our first and second skydives together. We both had loved it so much that we immediately signed up for AFF class.

From August 1997 to March 1998 makes it sound like a semester-length class, but in reality AFF can be passed in seven lessons and seven jumps. (Winter got in the way.) Each jump adds skills learned in the lesson. These comprise the seven levels of AFF. After that (and a written test), you’ve been born; you are a baby skydiver!

Each AFF jump is done with at least one instructor jumping with you, two at first and one on later jumps. Unlike Tandem jumps, your instructors are not attached to you! They’re close enough to make sure you deploy your chute, but you are on your own in making sure it deploys successfully (and cutting away if not). You must also fly to the landing zone and land successfully. (You do have a radio they use to help talk you in.)

You must successfully demonstrate the class lesson on the jump to pass the level. If you don’t, you have to take the jump again. Once you pass all seven levels, then there is a written test you take to obtain your “A” license. This entitles you to make ordinary jumps at any Drop Zone (DZ).

There is actually another qualification: to jump you must be current. That is, you must have jumped in the last 90 days. (All your jumps are recorded in your log book, which you carry with you.) If more time has passed, you need take a currency jump with a licensed skydiver, and that jump is signed in your log book by that skydiver. This does provide a problem in places with winter. Some choose to jump in the freezing cold; others choose to regain their currency later.

Anyway, below is that (unedited) USENET post (no font effects back then—no bold, no italics—hence the ALL CAPS). Two things helpful to know: skydivers don’t speak of doing something for the first time (like how stage actors never say “good luck,” but “break a leg!”), and the traditional gift for just about any good favor is a case of beer or a bottle of “something.”

Another AFF Graduate!!

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, I finally did it! I passed AFF and am no longer a “student”!! It took 13 jumps and more money than I want to think about yet (or ever), but what an incredible rush!

The next time I jump out of a plane, I’ll be all on my own (SCARY!).

I passed last Saturday (4/18), and what a day it was. Lots of firsts for me that day. No, wait, wait, lots of “pre-seconds” for me…

Pre-second time I’ve made four jumps in one day. Pre-second (and second) time I’ve jumped out of an airplane with no one holding on to me. Pre-second (and second) time I’ve managed to stand up on landing (instead of landing on my butt!). Pre-second time I’ve done back loops in the air!! (what a thrill THOSE were!!). Pre-second time I’ve gotten in a jump plane with ZERO anxiety and wanted 100% to jump out of the thing without wishing JUST A LITTLE the weather would change and prevent the jump.

I never dreamed I would pass Saturday, so it was quite a rush to have it happen. It’s like it happened all at once after so long (I started last August then had to stop for ol’ man winter). On my four jumps I flunked L5 (again!), then passed, then totally, completely ACED L6 and then, for a grand finale, passed L7 pretty okay (need to work on my tracking).

But, after sooooo much effort and time and money, it’s on the verge of becoming PURE fun and excitement!

I want to, also, thank everyone on this newsgroup. I’ve been a dedicated lurker since last August (my company frowns on non-business-related posts so I bopped over to Deja News to post this), and I have really enjoyed reading your posts. I’ve learned an awful lot from you guys, so THANKS!!

And kudos to Skydive Hutchinson, Minnesota, for a great, wonderful, very, very professional and friendly DZ. The owners, Tim and Rose are the best. They’ve made me feel at home since my first tandem last August, and now I’m finally becoming one of the “family”. You guys are incredible!

So, to my fellow rec.skydiving friends, here’s a case for you…nah, make that TWO cases of nice brown imported bottles…DRINK UP!!:

+------------+   +------------+
|()()()()()()|   |()()()()()()|
|[][][][][][]|   |[][][][][][]|
|------------|   |------------|
|()()()()()()|   |()()()()()()|
|[][][][][][]|   |[][][][][][]|
|------------|   |------------|
|()()()()()()|   |()()()()()()|
|[][][][][][]|   |[][][][][][]|
|------------|   |------------|
|()()()()()()|   |()()()()()()|
|[][][][][][]|   |[][][][][][]|
+------------+   +------------+

DRINKS ARE ON ME!!!!

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August 12, 2011

My First AFF Skydive!

By Wyrd Smythe

The post two days ago told the tale of the first time I (and my new girlfriend) jumped out of an airplane, and the post yesterday was about the second skydive.

Both those jumps were tandem jumps. We were securely attached to professional Tandem Master skydivers who did all the work. We were basically just along for the ride. I’d say it was the ultimate “E” ticket, but only old-time patrons of Disneyworld would know what that means. Suffice to say it’s the coolest carnival ride you can imagine. And after you’ve jumped out of an airplane a few times, even the wildest roller coasters seem a bit tame.

As I mentioned in the first tale, when they saw how much we loved jumping they immediately began whispering in our ears, “AFF. AFF.” When we came back for another, the whispering got louder!

AFF: Accelerated Free Fall

CN and I returned to Hutch for the third (and certainly not last) time on September 6 (1997).  This time we were taking the next step: beginning our skydiving training by taking the Accelerated Free Fall (AFF) course.  This is one of the two main ways one can learn to skydive (the other is Static Line).

The difference is that in AFF you jump alone (although experts jump with you) and are responsible for pulling your own ripcord. With Static Line as cable is attached between you and the plane, and that cable pulls your ripcord. AFF sounded much more fun to us, and Hutch didn’t teach Static Line anyway.

The first part of AFF is a day-long classroom session that prepares you for the really stunning part of the course: jumping out of an airplane.  Not just once, but at least seven times! Each of those seven jumps involves one or more tasks you must accomplish to pass the jump. If you fail (and live), you have to repeat the jump until you get it right.

If you start your class in the morning, and if the weather is good, you can get that first jump in the same day. Each of the next six steps requires a bit of training, so those jumps usually take place over a matter of days or weeks, depending on your schedule, the weather and the schedule at the drop zone.

AFF Level 1

Well, here I am in free fall again.  This time, I’m not attached to anyone, but I do have a couple of experts along for the ride (and holding on to me).  That’s Rob on the left, and Tim (Drop Zone co-owner) on the right (Tim’s the one sticking his tongue out at the camera). One of the things you learn and practice on the ground is the exit procedure that allows all three of you to exit the aircraft together.

All you have to do on this first jump is three Practice Rip Cord Pulls (PRCPs). This is a move where you go through the motions of pulling your ripcord, but don’t actually do it. It’s designed to demonstrate that you have your wits about you and can pull it for real when the time comes. Once you complete the PRCPs, you just enjoy the ride until you’re at 4,500 feet when you pull for real.

With regard to “ripcords” very few skydivers actually use a ripcord. Most sport jumpers have a pilot chute on a long piece of webbing that they throw out to the side. The wind catches the pilot chute (big time!), and it is the pilot chute pulling on the rig mechanism that actually releases and starts to deploy your parachute. However at the time I did my AFF, Hutch used ripcord-based rigs. Part of graduating out of AFF and into regular rigs involves learning how to toss out the pilot chute.

Pull!

And out comes the chute.  Rob lets go the instant I do that; you can see that he’s no longer holding on to me.  If you look closely (click on the pictures for a bigger version), you can see the ripcord in my right hand. One element of this is that you need to remember to hang onto it; they charge you for a new one if you drop it. I love this picture. Brian (the camera man) caught the exact moment the chute’s bag leaps out of the rig and begins to deploy!

Tim sticks with me until the chute actually pulls me out of his hands.  This is to insure that all goes well.  If I had some sort of malfunction, he’d be there to help. Another reason for the guys sticking with you is in case you freak out. I’ve seen video of first time jumpers who started flailing about, or went fetal. Then the instructors really have their work cut out for them (part of their training involves learning to deal with such cases).

Of course, once my chute does open, I’m on my own until I reach the ground.  But I do have a radio, so they can talk to me and help me land safely. You are responsible for a couple of things, though. First, once your chute deploys, you need to check to make sure it deployed correctly. If not, you need to deploy your reserve chute (and, of course, then check that one). Second, you need to fly yourself back to the drop zone and set up for landing. This is where the radio comes into play. Assuming it’s working. Assuming you can hear it clearly. Those aren’t always givens!

As you can see, I landed safely and without problems! That’s me on the left and my instructor, Tim, on the right.

If CN and I thought the tandem jump was amazing, this was several orders of magnitude beyond amazing. We were hooked, but good. Eventually we both passed our AFF training and got our baby skydiver’s license. We even ended up buying our own rigs, which meant only paying for the (half) plane ride.

Sadly, the 90-minute drive combined with a new marriage and life in general made it impossible for us to continue with the sport. Eventually we had to give it up, but it will always be one of the greatest times of my life (both the skydiving and the marriage).

In the end, I made only 50 jumps total (including the tandem jumps and the AFF jumps). That may sound like a lot to someone who’s never tried it, but those in the sport make thousands of jumps. Watching experienced skydivers play in the sky is really a treat. That 100+ MPH wind allows all kinds of interesting acrobatics! To this day, when the sky is clear, I still look up and wish I was still jumping.

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August 11, 2011

My Second Skydive!

By Wyrd Smythe

Yesterday I told the tale of my first skydive with then new girlfriend (and now ex-wife). We both loved our first jump so much we came back a week later for second jump.  I wrote the original version of these stories about a year later. The versions here have been slightly revised to fill in some details, obfuscate some names and improve (I hope) the quality of the writing.

So sit right down and you’ll read a tale, a tale of a fateful trip. (And ironically, for those who caught the reference, the round-trip driving time to Hutch is about three hours.)

Tandem Jump #2

So, on August 16, 1997, (our official one-month anniversary of our first meeting) CN and I again made the 90 mile drive to Skydive Hutchinson.  This time the weather was much nicer.  On our first jump, clouds had moved in during the day, so we were only able to get up to 7500 feet.  This time we would get our full 10,000 feet, the normal jump-off altitude!

And this time, I would be the star of the video.  Last time we’d flipped a coin, and CN won, so she was the focus of the video.  We determined that when we returned, it would be my turn.

Little did I know, I was in for more than my money’s worth this time!  It turned out that my Tandem Master, Kerry, would have to ditch our main chute and go for the reserve, so I kinda got two skydives in one!

Bye-bye!

There goes CN with Tandem Master Shawn, on her second exit from a “perfectly good airplane.”  Shawn also has become one of our treasured skydiving pals.  A font of information and good times.  Little did we know this first week how much John and Shawn would change our lives.

Wheeeeeeeeeeeee!

And here I come!  This time I’m attached to Kerry.  And again, our incredible camera man, John A, captures the plane leaving us behind.

John is a truly incredible skydiver, and one of our main teachers in the sport.  Over the months, as we’ve struggled, he’s seen us grow and learn and also become one of our favorite skydiving friends.

Hey, Look at ME!

Falling through the air at about 120 miles per hour is beyond any experience you can imagine.  Nothing I’ve ever experienced comes close.  In the five or six seconds, you go from 0 to 120 miles per hour.  After that, your speed is constant, so you feel no sense of falling at all.  Just flying with a 120 mile per hour wind coming up from the ground at you.

Which, incidentally, any time you see skydivers in the movies or TV talking during free fall…  Forget about it.  That 120 MPH wind makes conversation impossible.  Any communication is done with hand signals (or taps or tugs on your body if in physical contact).  You could maybe pull it off by screaming directly into somebody’s ear, but not otherwise.  A good example of It’s Totally Not This Way is the skydive in Point Break.

Sproing!

Chute’s out, but wait!  Something isn’t quite right.  The slider didn’t come all the way down the lines. The chute was sort of flyable, and Kerry considered riding it down, but being the crazy guy he is, decided a cut-away would be more fun.

All he said to me was, “Are you ready to arch again?” (Arching, putting your body in a backwards-bow, is what you do when you’re falling belly down. It’s the stable position for basic free fall.)

I said, “Sure…”

And then the floor vanished under us!  TOO COOL!!  Two free falls for the price of one.

When Shawn told CN, “See that yellow ‘chute over there? That’s their reserve,” CN knew at once I was having a GREAT time!  And she was completely right!

To make it more obvious that a skydiver has deployed their reserve chute, those chutes are usually solid white or (in the case of tandem rigs, yellow).

Thumbs Up!

Here I am back on the ground with Kerry.  You can see the yellow reserve chute on the ground behind us.  Kerry joked to the camera that I’d asked what all the handles on his rig were for, so he decided he’d show me.

Because of the extra free fall due to cutting away the main chute, we didn’t make it back to the drop zone’s landing area.  We are, in fact, standing in a farmer’s field.  The drop zone, and the airport it abuts, are surrounded by soybean and corn fields.  The farmers are used to the occasional off-target landing.

John followed us down and landed in the same field, so I got my terra firma picture, but CN’s off at the drop zone.  (Amazingly, on the video, you can watch John fly to and grab the tandem reserve’s free bag out of the air!  Quite a stunt, and it saved trying to find that small piece of somewhat expensive gear.)

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August 10, 2011

My First Skydive!

By Wyrd Smythe

Walking to the plane, the plane!The next several posts are trips down memorex lane. They recall one of the most exciting times of my life. I’d just started an incredible relationship with a girlfriend who later became my first (and so far only) wife. That the marriage didn’t last but a small handful of years and that we’ve been divorced at least twice as many years doesn’t at all detract from the wonder of joy of those early years.

It was in that setting that I (we) tried skydiving for the first time and fell (pun definitely intended) in love with it. These posts (which were first written back then and have since been slightly revised) are about those experiences.

Tandem Jump #1

I’ve wanted to try skydiving since my teens.  I love adventures and trying new things, and I also love flying and airplanes.  Over the years I met several skydivers; they all just increased my desire to take the (literal) plunge.  When my girlfriend (later fiancée, later wife, later ex-wife) mentioned that she and her girlfriends planned to try it, I jumped at the chance to join them.  Here’s the story of that first jump; it was written about a year afterwards.

Going to the Drop Zone

On August 9, 1997, CN and I made a 90 mile drive to a strange and wonderful place, called Skydive Hutchinson.  We didn’t realize then that this would change our lives forever!  Since that first day, we’ve made that drive many more times, and have come to love the place called “Hutch.”  But at the time it was all very new and strange.

[NOTE: Not long ago I tried to visit their website for the first time in years only to discover they've closed up shop after 12 "successful and wonderful" years.  I can well imagine they've retired at this point.]

Upon our arrival, we were greeted warmly by Rose, co-owner of Hutch.  First, we watched a video about Tandem skydiving.  The video warns you in no uncertain terms that skydiving is DANGEROUS!  It has been made as safe as possible, but make no mistake, there is some risk.

About Tandem Skydiving: The idea is that you’re strapped to a specially trained, very experienced skydiver who does all the work and is responsible for saving your (and their) ass.  (Skydivers have a saying, “When you exit the aircraft, you’re dead.  It’s up to you to save your own life.”)

After the video, we signed a waiver stating that we understood and accepted the risk.  For what it’s worth, Skydive Hutchinson has an outstanding safety record.  They are extremely safety conscious and professional!  I have never had the least reservation about jumping there, and you couldn’t find a greater bunch of folks.

With the formalities out of the way, we were fitted into jump suits and given the small amount of necessary training: how to hold our body, how to sit in the door of the plane and a few other important things we needed to know.  It’s actually quite simple; anyone can do it… if you’ve got the right stuff!

And finally we boarded the small plane and flew to altitude.  Then, they opened the door and……

Bye-bye!

There I go!  My very first jump out of a perfectly good airplane.  But I’m securely attached to Larry, one of the Tandem Masters at Hutch.  You’ll see a better picture of him once we make it back to the ground.  (Circled in red, you can see the drop zone, which is about two miles below us…  we were at 10,000 feet altitude.)

It’s difficult to explain the experience of jumping out of a plane.  The first time it really hits you is when they open the door!  Not many of us, normally, are in a flying airplane with a door open.

Actually, the very first time it hits you is when you’re in the plane and it lifts off the runway.  That’s when you think to yourself, “My God! I’m going to jump out of this thing!!” But when they actually open the door “at altitude” then it really hits you. You lean over and look out the open door, your eyes get big and your heart starts pounding (as if it wasn’t already).

Leap Of Faith!

And here comes CN right behind.  She’s strapped to Tandem Master Shawn, an outstanding skydiver we’ve gotten to know in the past year.  He’s helped us learn a lot during our training.

(He was my coach on my first two-way jumps, but that’s a story for later.)

One thing I love about that picture is the plane in the background.  In the later pictures, you can see it getting further and further away.  “Hey, there goes our ride!”

“Oh, well, guess we’ll just have to get down on our own.”

This is Great!

Here she is in the classic “box man” position falling through the air with the greatest of ease!  Looks like she’s having fun, eh? On the video, you can read her lips as she screams, “This is GREAT!”

And all too soon, the free fall fun is over, and you have to open your chute. Once you exit the airplane, it takes you about 10 seconds to fall the first 1000 feet. During that time you’re going from zero to roughly 100 MPH (downwards!). After that, you fall at the rate of about 1000 feet every six seconds.

But once you open your chute (and assuming it opens!) there comes several minutes of a whole different (much calmer) kind of flying: Flying under canopy.  This is almost as much fun as free falling.  It’s almost like being a bird.

Under Canopy

You have time to look around and enjoy the scenery from up on high.

They knew we were a couple, so our Tandem Masters flew us in close formation and even did a few spirals around each other.  It looks great on the video; the two of us (and our pilots) just flying around without a care. (And, by the way, if you do ever try skydiving, be sure to get the video/picture package. You will want those images to remember and savor!)

But ultimately gravity wins (modern sport parachutes are just gliders), and you return to earth’s firm embrace.  That’s CN and Shawn in the lead with me and Larry following up and behind.

Back on the Ground

Do we look stoked? We were!!  The long wait was well worth it.  Our lives changed forever this day.  We originally thought this skydive would be a once in a lifetime thing; an event to check off our list of things to do.  Little did we know we’d be taking up skydiving as our favorite sport!

Here we are back on terra firma with our Tandem Masters, Larry and Shawn.  What an incredible, unforgettable experience.  We liked it so much, we immediately signed up to do it again in a week.  And Larry must have guessed we were totally hooked, because every time he walked past me, he whispered, “AFF, AFF, AFF.”

What is this “AFF” you ask? It stands for Accelerated Free Fall (instruction), and it (at the time) was one way you learn to skydive on your own.  CN and I both took the training and earned our “baby skydiver” licenses.

But that’s another story.  The next tale in the story is about our second (tandem) skydive.

I close with my favorite skydiver saying:

If riding in an airplane is “flying,” then riding in a boat is “swimming.”
 To experience the element, get out of the vehicle!

6 comments   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in Writing

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