Had my first Canopy Flying Training jump, which followed a five hour class. Ironically, 80 percent of the instruction covered arching and pulling, which both happen in free fall, and very little about parachute handling which is actually 3/4 of the ride, at least in terms of length. One more CFT jump and then it’s AFF–Aggressive Free Fall training. Perhaps the Free Fall class will focus on parachute handling, particularly emergencies and unplanned contingencies. Well, one can hope anyway.
Anyway, I learned three important things on this afternoon’s jump:

1) Never trust an altimeter blindly. The one I used was not zeroed out properly, and had me at 500 feet lower. Granted, this is much better than the reverse problem, thinking I was 500 feet higher than reality. Filed the glitch as what it was, a lesson. Trust what you bring to the zone. My frap cap worked perfectly, and resulted in much less disorientation, and noise.

2) My arch needs some work. I was pretty stable, all things considered, but could do better. That I can practice on the ground.

3) Work with gravity. At 10 feet I had a good flare going–both steering toggles all the way down near my waist, but I got anxious and unbent my knees. Whoops. Since we had substantial forward motion still, at around 3 feet my legs touched earth and my legs rolled backwards and my upper body kept going. At least the bending happened in the right direction. Fortunately the jump master rolled right, and took us down hard. Otherwise he might have flipped over my head. That would be…not good. In case I forget this lesson any time soon, my left knee, which absorbed the impact, will remind me for a few days. Next time, I let go of the landing.

All in all, I learned a lot. And I flew through a cloud at 5,500 feet. I might have seen my shadow–the rarest of sky diving treats–except my eyes were locked on the altimeter. Maybe next time.

What could this be?

Spring ended a week after it began, lasting four more days than last year. Maybe global warming skipped my block. Either that or the ozone ditched on its property tax bill again. Can’t say I blame it. Either way, warm weather cometh, putting me at odds the environment.

See, I like it cold–somewhere between nippy and lukewarm. If the thermostat never breached sixty-five, I’d be a happy boy. Beyond ninety degrees, my coherence drops off sharply. At a hundred, I pack it in, or risk being arrested for babbling in a public place again. That’s a slight exaggeration. Officially the charge was loitering. I strongly disagreed. What’s wrong with building an igloo with boxes of ice cream in the freezer section? The aisle badly wanted for a display. Nobody with teeth eats Neopolitan ice cream these days anyway.

On the plus side, NJ summers are far milder than the South, so I have an easier ride than some of my friends. Not sure how they survive.

I have another jump scheduled soon. Because I need a good scaring.

Meantime it’s edits. Oh, how I curse Oriana’s pen.

I could have dwelled on the hundreds of things that might go wrong in the next sixty seconds of my life–or the fact they could be my last–but when the pilot opened on the bay door, all I cared about was stepping onto the rail and rolling into open sky. Let me backtrack. I did my first sky dive today over the Jersey Shore, jumping at just under 10,000 feet. That was probably the only downside of the experience. By law, the pilot must remain 500 feet beneath the cloud ceiling, and a dense patch hung stubbornly at 10,300–an obstruction which cropped a precious second or two of free fall. Well, maybe next time I’ll get the difference back.

Oh yes, there will be a next time. I signed up for certification classes. Right now, I’m trying to recenter myself. Six hours later, the bulk of my thoughts flow like a stream carrying pieces of the free fall, the feel of my back wedged against the firewall of the plane, and the jump masters joking with each other on the ascent.

“Oh, Christ,” Jonathon said, as the plane veered down the runway a second before takeoff. “I hope it goes better today than last week.”

“You gotta get back on the horse,” Joe said.

“Hey, Joe, when was your first jump?”

“About thirty minutes ago.”

It would seem sky divers share my Far Side sense of humor. First I found a job where I fit in; now I found a hobby. What next?

Anyway, I need a few more beers to get back on planet Earth.

In honor of the event, an awesome coworker made shirts for the few, the proud, the jump list:

Front is a modified school mascot.

The back is even better.

Despite a promise I made someone–yes, Mom counts–I’ll post this secret. Part of the reason for the lack of posts lately is that I set up a skydiving trip. Wanted to do this forever, and now with the nice weather, it seems like a good time.

I will keep part of my word though and conceal the date so they don’t completely freak out. But it’s soon.

Jumping out of a perfectly good airplane. For fun. Awesome.

If I like it, I’ll pursue certification and then someday this might be me…