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billvon

Lady in Red (long)

By billvon, in The Bonfire

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billvon    2,998

billvon
I don't have a very good memory for names or dates. When I try to remember "Quincy 96" or "Lost Prairie 2000" I find myself trying to figure out what year that was, what the events that stood out were. I tend to remember events and people instead. Mention Valerie from Quincy, and I will always remember the woman from Purdue who learned about 4-way there. The year we went running naked through the corn, or the year I did the four-way with the twelve year old, or the year the guy drowned in the pool - those I will remember for a long time.
Well, in five years I'm not going to remember the Jack Off to Perris boogie of 2002, if you ask me about it. But ask me about the woman in the red rubber jumpsuit, and I'll remember everything about last weekend.
I got the call about two weeks ago. Judy wanted me to go with her to the Peckerhead thing, a Cal City event that was moving to Perris. Sure, I said, it's a good excuse to head North for a weekend. Within three days I had gotten a phone call and two emails about all the _other_ stuff going on that weekend I should go to instead - the Elsinore 10 way meet, the Kate and Tony big ways at Perris. Figures.
I got there Friday night, with just enough light left on the horizon to make me mad at missing the sunset load. Leslie and her new boyfriend were there, both very busy attempting to reduce the pile of beer they had brought to a manageable level. Leslie had grounded herself for six months to let her knee heal, and Steve, the new boyfriend, was starting AFF on Saturday. We adjourned to the bar to see what was going on there.
It ended up being a quiet night, but it wasn't without its moments. I saw Scott Smith, and talked to him for a while before meeting Cindy, a jumper who had been just about everywhere. We talked about Montana and Long Island, jumping T-10's and DC-5's as students. While we were talking, Linda the manifester sat down next to us and got a shot of some coffee-looking drink. She stuck the whole shot glass in her mouth and tilted it back, drinking about half of it. She tugged on the glass a little, then started looking around, a worried look on her face. She had somehow gotten the glass stuck in her mouth. She started waving her hands around and making "OOOMM!" noises. In any sort of normal place this might have generated some help, but here it seemed to encourage people to take pictures of her and tell her jokes, which just made matters worse.
She finally ran off to the bathroom with two friends trailing her, where the shot glass was successfully extracted. The weekend was off to a good start.
The next morning we assembled for the start of the Peckerhead meat. We got assigned to random teams, and our team ended up pretty strong - Judy, Walt, Phillip Miles, Rondi and myself. Phil was the low-time jumper, but one low-time jumper is generally OK in these sorts of things - he just becomes the target. The event would be a no show front-flip exit to a five way speed star, with one second deducted for every point turned. On landing, we had to land in one of five 5-meter circles, and we'd get points for accuracy.
The unusual thing about the Peckerhead meat is that bribes do count. Judy was plotting what to bribe the judges with as we went through the first round. There was a great deal of confusion on the five-way as to who was going to who. I finally ended up going over to Phil, docking on him, and towing him back to the other three people, a skill that I learned in Quincy a few years ago and often comes in handy. We landed with great clouds of dust (dramatic landings get you points as well) but Phil tried a little too hard and sprained his ankle. He got us extra points for the effort, and we rounded up another jumper to take his place. Walt appeared with boxes of candy we could use to bribe the judges with on the second round. Things were looking up.
Round two we had the RW thing cold, and quickly built the speed star and turned 8 points in time. We all hit the rings, and I managed to put on a show by putting my feet on the ground early and hard, thus kicking up a big roostertail of dirt as I slid right through the painted-on target. We were going to get big points for that, I was sure.
After I landed I went over to Linda Hardesty, one of the judges, to give her the box of chocolates.
"This better not be one of those four year old boxes of candy that Walt's giving to everybody, is it?"
"Uh, no," I said, probably not too convincingly.
"What team are you on?" she asked.
"Team six," I said. (We were team five, but I had a bad feeling about this.)
We assembled in the landing area and Judy tried to add up our scores. From the on-target landings and the style points she figured we had gotten twelve points - not bad, when your supposed maximum is five. As we were congratulating ourselves I felt something hit me from behind. It was Linda, throwing the dessicated candy at me. As they now had the consistency of little rocks, things could get dangerous here, so we retreated to the safety of the pickup truck. I was pretty sure that this was an indication that our bribes were not well received. Our final score on ground points that round - zero.
We started the third round with little hope. As we were boarding the Skyvan, something occurred to me and I went over to Junebug's team. "Hey Junebug," I said, "we're not going to win, so you want to do something fun instead? Let's just do a ten way speedstar." She said no. No problem. Slammer's team was also on the plane, and Slammer never says no to anything. We spent a busy ten minutes rearranging people, telling the pilot, and planning breakoff and such. Nothing like planning a skydive on the way to altitude.
We made the jump, and not only built the star but turned two points. (Well, break-and-reclose, but at the Peckerheads almost anything goes.) We figured that they'd either disqualify us or give us points for originality. We ended up losing anyway, but at least we came out of the 'meat' with a good story.
And now the obligatory scary story -
On the first load of the meat, I opened and noticed someone landing, dragging a pilot chute. After I landed I went over to him and saw him walking around holding his reserve, still in its freebag. His reserve closing loop had been cut.
"Cypres fire?" someone asked.
"No, it didn't fire, the reserve didn't come out of the bag, see?"
"Uh, that's not really how it works . . ."
"Why'd you pull so low?" asked someone else.
"I'm used to my old dytter, and it beeps and then stops and then I pull. Well, I borrowed this dytter here, and it beeped, then it stopped, but then it started beeping again, so I figured I'd better not pull. Maybe it's a different kind of dytter. It wasn't really a beep noise." This created an astonished silence from the three people talking to him. While we were standing there I noticed something tied around his reserve handle.
"Hey, what's that?" someone asked, pointing at his reserve handle.
"Oh, that, that's just a tube stow I tied around my reserve handle so it wouldn't come out while I was riding my motorcycle." Another astonished silence.
"Think that's a good idea?" I asked him. "You know, if you needed your reserve, it would be bad to not be able to pull it, maybe?"
"No, I'm sure it would break," he said, and then proceeded to yank on his reserve. Each time it would come out a few inches and sproing back, held by the tube stow. After a moment he stopped. "I'm sure it would come out, but I don't want to open my reserve just now." He started picking at the tube stow with his nails.
It was one of those surreal moments. I actually looked around to see if anyone had a camera and was doing a "candid camera" routine. He, fortunately, didn't jump again. Later I found out he had a grand total of 200 jumps in 20 years.
While packing after that jump I noticed a woman walking around in a red rubber jumpsuit. (Anyone who has seen the Racer ad with Nancy LaRiviere knows the kind of material I'm talking about.) This was worth investigating, so I walked over and asked her about the suit. She said she bought it for fall rate ("Yeah, right," Rondi said later when I told her this) and that it was rubber-coated spandex. It was definitely tight. According to her it did not blow up like a balloon in freefall, she didn't sweat too much in it, and it was very fast. From my point of view, watching her pack while wearing it wasn't so bad, either.
Towards the end of the day I signed up for the hit and chug competition, which was subsequently cancelled. I changed into my sweatshirt and jeans, and was on the prowl for a beer when Judy came running up to me - Walt needed someone fast for a 30-way! I threw my rig on (we were on a now call) and we dirt dived one more time for me. I was docking on Rena, the woman (you guessed it) in the red rubber jumpsuit. I would be last out of the Skyvan. After getting in the plane I started wondering just how dumb this was. Would the little strings on my sweatshirt hood strangle me? Could I fall fast enough with jeans and a big floppy sweatshirt? If I had a mal, was the shirt going to ride up and cover my handles? I tugged and tucked a lot, and got myself in order for the exit. It was getting dark, dark enough so that the red "door open" light lit up the inside of the skyvan like some weird disco lighting.
We exited. I flew my approach, looking for the dark blue jumpsuit in the base I would line up on. When I got there I saw six black jumpsuits, any hint of color removed by the setting sun. Well, at least I could follow the woman in the red rubber jumpsuit - it was impossible to miss _that_ suit. I found her and started following her. She slid right and I followed. She kept sliding. I followed, getting more worried. She completed her first 360. At that point I figured I should stop. I could break off safely from here, and I didn't want to just keep orbiting the now-15 way that was building. We broke off and everyone landed safely - which, for the experience levels on the dive, time of day, and speed of dirt dive, wasn't a bad result at all.
That night the San Diegans (20 or so) invaded the Bomb Shelter. Several guys wanted to dance with Trina, and Keith kept edging them out so he could dance suggestively with her. I spent my time dancing with Rena, commiserating with my Peckerhead teammates, and smuggling Skydiver Blonde beer in for Molly and Kate, who then walked around the bar holding up their hair with one hand and the bottle with the other. "See?" they kept saying. After a few hours, the party moved to Judy's RV, where people took turns telling stories, drinking, and passing out.
Trying to sleep that night was pretty miserable. Note to self - bring a sleeping bag if you're trying to sleep in a van and it's below freezing. I was very tempted to start the engine and run the heater, but I would feel bad if I woke up the next morning and found Barbara dead - she had camped next to my tailpipe. I woke up the next morning and I couldn't even feel my feet. I had to stand in the shower for about 20 minutes until I was completely thawed.
The next day I did Kate and Tony's dives all day. I was excited at one point to end up diving next to Lisa, a woman from the team Deguello. She was faster than me, and by trying to beat her, I could work on my own speed. (I never did, which was actually good, since she had to dock before me. But it was fun to try.) Kate and Tony were their usual selves. They are both excellent teachers and organizers, and that's a line that can be hard to walk. BTW if anyone out there wants to learn more about big ways, there is no better place to learn, or better people to learn it from.
On our last dive we tried a hybrid - Brendan, a freeflyer, would sitfly in the center of a big 26-way and spin as we watched him. We would first build a 16-way with pods, then he would come up under us and start spinning in the center, providing great visuals for us and for video. I was a little worried about the approach from beneath, but what the heck.
We launched it, and the base came out great. We built quickly to a 10-way base. Brendan then entered the picture, flying under us and orbiting directly under the circle. I could watch his progress by looking across the formation as each person in turn got hit by his burble. He circled once, then twice, as the tension started to build and people fought to stay in the skydive. I went from hoping it would work to hoping the funnel wouldn't be too bad. Finally someone fell out and it was all over.
There was a banquet that night, but after not sleeping the night before I couldn't face it, so I hit the road back to San Diego while I could still keep my eyes open. Keith, a fellow San Diegan, summed it up pretty well - "Man, that weekend went by so fast, it seemed less than a day long." Boogies have a way of doing that to you. At least I have the image of a jumpsuit to remember it by.

-bill von

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billvon    2,998

billvon
>As long as there are people like tube stow man I will always have a job......
While small canopy manufacturers may keep you in business, I'm afraid that tube stow man will generate more business for coroners than EMT's. Hard to just break your femur if you land with nothing out.
-bill von

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hottamaly    1

hottamaly
Quote

As we were congratulating
ourselves I felt something hit me from behind. It was Linda, throwing the
dessicated candy at me. As they now had the consistency of little rocks, things
could get dangerous here, so we retreated to the safety of the pickup truck.

Sorry, I was aiming for Walt :D
SKYDIVING GAVE ME A REASON TO LIVE....

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billvon    2,998

billvon
>Is this your lady in red ?http://www.jackofftoperris.com/Images 2002/dse11114.JPG
Yes! Although that's not a good angle at all. Note that her rig, jumpsuit and cutaway handle all match perfectly. There's another picture of her minus suit at http://www.jackofftoperris.com/Images 2002/dse11188.JPG
Here's the one with Linda/shot glass stuck in mouth: http://www.jackofftoperris.com/Images 2002/dse11140.JPG
A good one of Kate and Tony: http://www.jackofftoperris.com/Images 2002/dse11195.JPG
-bill von

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billvon    2,998

billvon
>Bill, I am a paramedic...HUGE difference...
Ah. I used to get mad when people called me a jumpmaster, because I was an instructor and an S+TA. Heck, I _certified_ other instructors, and here they were calling me something one "rank" lower! Then I pretty much stopped caring. People who know me know what I'm good at, and if someone calls me a jumpmaster, well, I am that as well - after all, I jumpmaster students.
-bill von

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Keith    0

Keith
""Team six," I said. (We were team five, but I had a bad feeling about this.)"
You bastard. That was my team :D. I'll let you off the hook cause we came in second place for the speed star. One lousy second behind first place :(. What a great time!!! I also have to say that we San Diegans *were* the party at the Bomb Shelter Saturday night. All the guys wanted to be me when I was bumping nasties with Trina and the other women on the dance floor. I'm told I had a great time :$
Keith

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freeflyguy    0

freeflyguy
That was a good laugh for me this morning. I know Rina pretty well myself. (Now I am really laughing) She's my girlfriend.
I'm James, wore a michigan suit, white with flames. I won the hitnchug Friday, took 4th on Sunday, and just generally had a kick but time at the Jack Off this year.
j

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billvon    2,998

billvon
>That was a good laugh for me this morning. I know Rina pretty well myself. (Now I am really laughing) She's my girlfriend.
Aha! I thought she was sitting with someone at the bomb shelter . . . looks like I spelled her name wrong, though. She seems like a pretty cool chick.
Last night I saw the story on the home page and I wondered how I would feel if I came home from a boogie, and the first time I logged onto a website, there was already a story about me complete with pictures . . .
-bill von

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