Dave's Blog

Thursday, 11 July, 2002 3:04:00 AM

For my birthday this year Margaret gave me a skydive.  It was 
something we had talked about for several years, and she has a way of 
making things happen.  Thanks, Margaret!  

As soon as I figured out what my gift was, I started thinking about 
it.  I, like most people I know, started with the obvious:  What if 
the parachute doesn't open?  My imagination moved to more subtle 
scenarios as the story unfolded, but essentially, many thoughts were 
the same.  I was planning "to step out of a perfectly good airplane 
without waiting for it to park."  I reviewed the chapter on skydiving 
in Tolly Burkan's Extreme Spirituality and fought to quell my 
frantic ego.  

On 25 May we went to Byron and took the ground school.  I enrolled in 
a program ominously named "Accelerated Free Fall" level 1.  Our 
teacher was very professional.  Randy spent nearly as much time at 
the airport as he did at his primary vocation, and he had thousands 
of jumps on record.  He took us through every imaginable scenario, 
including what to do if the parachute didn't open.  He taught us the 
formal trust system that has been elaborately woven around the 
reserve parachute.  We rehearsed the exit from the aircraft.  We 
practiced using altimeters to keep ourselves altitude-aware.  We 
practiced hand signals so we could communicate in free fall.  We 
drilled on emergency situations using harnesses with dummy handles 
and with videotapes to show us how the emergencies would look.  We 
talked about how to fly the parachute (yes, a modern parachute 
is a wing you fly like an airplane) and how to land it.  We were shown 
aerial photographs of the airport and landmarks that would lead us 
back to it.  We took a written exam.  The foremost rule to follow in 
free fall was very simple:  pay attention to your jumpmaster.  

Winds were too high for a beginner to jump that day, so we went home 
and thought some more about what we were doing.  The following weekend 
the winds were incredibly high, the highest that Randy had ever seen.  
The weekend after that Margaret was teaching a seminar, but I decided 
to go out to Byron and wait for a lull in the wind.  

I watched jumpers land by the airport so I could see what they were 
doing and so I could get a better idea how to land the parachute.  I 
talked with several jumpers who were obviously enjoying their sport.  
One of them showed me up close and personal how the modern reserve 
parachute was rigged.  Another very excitedly told all her friends 
how she had to use one the day before.  There was one thing in common:  
even though everyone had signed waivers acknowledging that parachuting 
was extremely dangerous, they all seemed to be fairly comfortable with 
the situation.  Yes, the waiver looked like every attorney in history 
had contributed to it.  There was no doubt in my mind that when I 
jumped, it was clearly my decision and nobody was going to push me.  

Around 10:30am the wind died down.  I knew I was going to jump that 
day.  Suddenly I was very excited.  My palms were sweating.  My head 
was faint.  I could feel my face cooling as my blood left it behind.  
I had to concentrate on breathing, to make sure I wouldn't stop.  When  
I used to believe there was such a thing as fear, this was what it 
felt like.  I was determined to go on, and eventually my measured 
breathing burned off the adrenaline.  Meanwhile, my imagination turned 
to the fact that there had been no rehearsal of flying the parachute.  

Randy rehearsed hand signals with me, and was pleased that I was 
ready to fly.  I was introduced to my jumpmaster, Bonnie, who also 
ran me through the paces.  We found rapport, and she was pleased 
that I accepted her authority.  Around noon we boarded the aircraft.  
Bonnie reminded me to keep breathing, and suggested a simple exercise.  
Count.  Breathe in through the nose, and out through the mouth.  
Above all, smile and relax.  OK.  I could do this.  

When I stepped off the aircraft at 14,000 feet it was like stepping 
off the curb of a sidewalk.  There was no sudden acceleration.  It 
all felt natural.  I looked for Randy and Bonnie, but they had seemed 
to disappear!  I didn't realize that they were down around my waist, 
not just below my arms as I had expected from the rehearsals on the 
ground.  I managed to make eye contact with Randy, who nodded 
encouragingly, and then I got a hand signal from Bonnie, so I knew 
she was there.  With the two of them watching me, I went through 
the student's free fall routine, and even had a few seconds afterward 
to look around and enjoy the ride.  At 5,500 feet, with Bonnie's 
patient guidance, I managed to pull my own main.  

In the harness under the parachute I was in a situation that was  
completely new.  I learned in the air how to handle the canopy, 
and I was surprised at how responsive it was.  I oriented myself and 
headed back to the airport.  Once Bonnie was on the ground she called 
me on the radio and talked me in to the "big open field" where I 
planned to land.  As the ground rushed up to me I realized I had no 
idea how far away it was, so I took her timing signals seriously.  
In the end, I proved that there is no way you can miss the Earth, and 
I made a good landing.  "Any landing you can walk away from is a good 
landing."  

I didn't think I was very excited after all, but later the videotape 
showed that I was red and panting, chock-full of adrenaline.  In the 
excitement of the moment I had been much too busy to feel afraid, 
but it would be hours before I calmed down enough to drive home 
safely.  

The lessons I learned over that two weeks were put to use 
immediately.  Fear is actually a combination of excitement and 
ignorance.  Excitement, as Jon Cotton once told me, is an activation 
energy that carries me to places I would not go otherwise.  
Ignorance can be addressed by asking the questions I need to ask, 
to be better informed.  Time takes care of both issues, so if I ask 
the right questions and use my excitement, there is no place for 
fear.  After the fact, when everything is known, there is no fear.  
With this knowledge I have been able to think on my feet in unusual  
circumstances and to take radical action in my personal life.   
I have discovered that fear is simply unnecessary and irrelevant.  
That knowledge alone has made my life more enjoyable.  

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