Ever wonder what it’s like to go flying in the sky? The thrill of looking below and seeing the squares of land, the blue lakes and ponds, and the tiny cars driving by? The chill of being 11,000 feet in the air, hearing wind buzz past and the guy behind you telling you what’s coming next?
Now, I’m not talking about flying in an airplane. I’m talking about jumping out of one.
One year ago, my friend Michelle had a crazy idea and needed another crazy friend to share the idea—me. When she asked me to go skydiving, at first I said, “No way!” But she persuaded me by saying that it would be half off if we booked right away. As I typed in my credit card information online, my heart began to race, my palms getting sweaty. Was I actually going to do this? Was I actually going skydiving?
The day came fast. May 30, 2015. 11:00 a.m., to be exact.
As we rode up to Adventure Skydiving in Steinbach, my heart pumped as fast as the day I made the booking. My stomach turned as we filled out paperwork and watched a 10-minute video on the “happy banana,” a pose in which you arch your back and open your arms and legs so that your body looks like a banana. The happy banana is what you do when freefalling out of the plane.
We suited up in silly jumpsuits, helmets with goggles, and the harness. Then away we went. Michelle went first with the instructor; it was a tandem skydive, so you’re strapped to the instructor and don’t have to do anything other than be the happy banana.
Michelle got into the plane, along with two other skydivers who were jumping solo. Up they went, and went and went. It seemed like 15 to 20 minutes before we saw these tiny little dots jump out of a plane. It was exciting to see the two solo jumpers doing tricks and flips during their freefall.
Next, I saw Michelle and the instructor with their parachute, gliding through the sky. Watching her coming in for landing meant I was next. A perfect landing, and Michelle was alive and smiling. It was the thrill of her life, she said. Then she jokingly asked if she could go again.
Me next! My heart pounded as I climbed into the plane, my stomach in knots. Up we went, high into the sky, up and up and up. As we neared 11,000 feet, the instructor hooked our harnesses together and secured the straps, with me connected to the front of him. I felt like a puppet; wherever he moved, I moved.
He opened the door and yelled, “Put your feet on that black step.” While hanging out the plane, holding onto nothing, I thought, This is it. I’m already out of the plane. I can’t turn back now.
Out we went.
I did the happy banana with the wind blowing 10,000 miles an hour in my face. We were falling—freely. And it went on for what felt like forever (but it was really only 40 to 60 seconds). I yelled the whole way down… but the details aren’t fit to print.
Then he pulled the parachute, and bam! We instantly slowed. As we glided through the sky like a bird, he handed me the handles to the parachute. I thought to myself, Umm, no thanks, take these back! But he was persistent and wanted me to pull the handles to move us left or right.
Before long, we were getting ready to land. I had to hold my legs up straight, parallel with the ground, to slide across a field of dandelions. Still yelling, I lay on the ground for a good five minutes before I could stand up. I had dandelions in my mouth, in my hair, down my shirt, and even in my ears—but I was alive.
The adrenaline rush was significant, and then the anxiety hit me. I felt like I was going to throw up. But boy was it worth it!
What a thrill! I still can’t believe I went skydiving. Would I do it again? Probably not, but it’s well worth the story.
