Dad's death-defying descent, part 2

The video portion of our broadcast begins with me acting studiously nonchalant and relaxed while preparing for the jump:



Note my "what the f*** am i doing?" pose at the very end ... hahahahaaaaa! Actually, I was just shading my eyes to look at something, but it's a nice shot ... good one, Mr. Videographer.

In truth, I was more giddy than frightened -- I was working on four hours' sleep, and my lovely wife had engineered the day so that I had no inkling of the skydive until I was almost at the airport. I couldn't quite believe what was happening and I just went with it.

The next clip shows us climbing to 13,000 feet -- at this point, I was strapped to my instructor/tandem partner, and wedged into a tiny plane with an open door with three other maniacs who were doing solo dives (plus my instructor and the pilot). As you can see, it was a beautiful day in a beautiful part of Connecticut:



Another great shot there at the end, of me doing breathing exercises to try to slow down my heart rate. The videographer (a very friendly Marine named Chris with two cameras strapped to his helmet) clearly knows what he's doing.

Just before the jump was the only time when I felt really agitated. I thought about Greta and Seamus, the inherent foolishness of jumping out of an airborne plane, and my $500,000 life insurance policy -- but then I remembered that Nick, my instructor, had told me that he had over a thousand jumps under his belt. Seemed like pretty good odds to me.

The next video starts with two of my fellow passengers jumping solo -- they were a student and instructor. That's what I want to do next year! Next, Nick and I scoot over to the open door and swing our legs out. This is when the full scope of the insanity of the act hits you. Although it may appear that I am passing out at this point, I am actually just following Nick's instruction to put my head back on his left shoulder (presumably so that I don't headbutt him during the jump).

The actual moment of jumping is nothing at all like jumping off of a wall or something like that. Because you're in a swiftly-moving airplane, it's more like being yanked violently downwards with a rope. It's an incredible adrenaline rush.

Actually being in freefall is no longer quite so adrenaline-charged, but it's definitely surreal ... "Am I really falling through the sky?" is what's going through my mind at this point.

I love the moment when Nick grabs my hair and pulls my head back so that I'll notice and wave at Chris the videographer falling in front of us.

During freefall, my face looks slightly weirder than usual because of the incredible wind pressure.



My one wish is that I had given Chris the heavy-metal devil sign with my hands. Or possibly the surfer sign. Or the Vulcan "live long and prosper" sign. My point is, when preparing to be videoed while skydiving, practice some cool hand signals.

Finally, you get to see us landing. The parachute-open part of the jump is actually quite relaxing: the wind goes away immediately, and you swing back and forth gently while you descend, enjoying a view that cannot be obtained any other way.

The euphoria after landing is indescribable. I felt exalted and I wanted to go up again!



Many thanks to Nick and Chris and all the fine folks at Connecticut Parachutists (http://www.skydivect.com), but especially to my sneaky, amazing wife.