Sharing A Memory Of Skydiving For The First Time


A parachute is flying in the air

I’m glad I participated in skydiving, but honestly? It was just okay — not the thrill/rush I was hoping for.

I did it “tandem;” you’re in the strap to an instructor, so you get a more prolonged free fall (45 seconds vs. about 10) and less training. It’s a win-win.

I had to take a training class which is somewhere between 30 minutes and an hour. We didn’t know a ton of useful stuff there. Because, after all, we have little to do but enjoy the ride (literally).

Sharing A Memory Of Skydiving For The First Time
Sharing A Memory Of Skydiving For The First Time

We get on the plane and start ascending. The flight is exceptionally rickety. At this point, I recall that the “reassuringly” that flying in a plane is more dangerous than skydiving. I can’t help but think that if this is the plane told us the instructors were talking about, no wonder!

It is finally time to jump out. Now that seems scary.

My Experience In Skydiving

One person after another jump out of the plane, and finally it’s my turn.

My instructor (who I am in the strap too) and I shuffle up to the front of the plane. Here the giant door looked out on to the open sky. Whenever I am ready, I can jump.

What the heck? I jump. There is no reason to overthink this. I know that the longer you sit there and let yourself be scared, the more you’ll be scared.

Sharing A Memory Of Skydiving For The First Time
Sharing A Memory Of Skydiving For The First Time

And then I’m falling.

 It doesn’t feel like falling. It feels more like floating there in the air with a ton of air blowing at your face.

Those who remember their physics course will know that you can’t feel “falling.” You can feel air blowing past you. You can certainly know that you’re falling to your death. But, once you reach terminal velocity (which happens within 10 seconds), you can’t feel “falling.” And, even before then, you can’t handle “falling;” you could only, at most, feel some mild acceleration.

But back to my jumping out of a moving airplane.

There is nothing really to give me that OH MY GOD I’M FALLING thrill. I’m so far above the ground that the ground isn’t rushing at me. The field looks about as close from one second to the next.

It doesn’t feel like I’m falling. It feels like there’s a ton of wind blowing at me, and I’m just kind of there, chilling, watching the scenery.

Hey, it’s beautiful up here. Loud, but peaceful in away.

Forty-five seconds pass, then it’s time to open the parachute.

The Feel To Jump And Fly

That thing pulls hard on you. Hard. (I later discovered I had bruises all over my shoulders.)

But then, it’s back to a beautiful, pleasant, parachute-ride down. I take some pictures. It’s pretty.

The landing is surprisingly soft. His feet hit the ground first, then mine. And that is it. The ride is over.

I’m glad I did it so that I know what it’s like. I’d do it again to see, to see if I still have the same experience. Mostly though, it was a pretty forgettable experience. 

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