hrm I had no intention of writing my whole story when I started, but here it is nonetheless.
Today I finally got back to the drop zone after a 10 month lay off when I had an ankle reconstruction after Stage 3 of my Aff last year. I was somewhat nicely surprised by the fact that a few of the guys remembered me and congratulated me on my return, so thanks to them for making me feel part of the group - again.
Anyway, I've been contemplating this day the entire time I've been forced to stay grounded, even up to the point that I almost had a car accident one day when I was staring at the sky day dreaming when I should have been driving - learnt my lesson and now I confine my dreaming activities to non-car bound times. I probably didn't pick the best of days, since I had unavoidable social committments last night which kept me out quite late, but since I work weekends it was today or wait another week, and I sure as hell wasn't doing that! So I packed up my stuff at 6am (after a 2am bedtime) and drove out to the drop zone anyway, which happens to be about 2.5 hrs drive.
I managed to get to the DZ dead on my 9am start for refresher training, and filled out all 4 million disclaimer forms all over (yes Mr APF I like signing my name 40 times per page) whilst freezing my ass off in a frosty 8 degrees Celcius. Then I met Daz. For me, meeting Daz was a similar feeling to what I imagine my sister would feel meeting, say, Robbie Williams (minus the crush of course!), he's a legend in my eyes, living and breathing the life of a typical hardcore skydiver, working tandems during the day and going and working night fill in a supermarket to supplement the not so good pay - in other words exactly where I would love to be one day in the future (ok maybe I'd like to be rich too)
Daz looked after me all day, starting with my refresher training which consisted of a recap of all the safety training I'd done so long ago and ending with me spending a couple of hours draining his wealth of knowledge, gained over the course of a few thousand jumps and god only knows how long in the sport. So anyway, I was a little disappointed to find that I wasn't getting on Load 1, because of a lack of JM's, but such is life, I was just happy to be soaking up the social atmosphere and once again feeling part of such a great thing.
Three minute jump run is called on the ground and I wander out to the paddock with a fella, who's name I think I remember as being Rodney, and watched as three students and their JMs, along with a few solos and a freefly team open in a rainbow line across the sky, before majestically floating back to earth. Ok not so majestically for some of the students, but they did a great job anyway; probably better than I did. Final approach was predetermined to be into the west, as we were getting slightly variable easterlies. The first two jumpers, Daz and Ang (who turns out to be my JM2), come in landing into the west before the other JM's all land in the wrong direction, bringing frustrated mumbling, from Rodney and plain disbelief from everyone else on the ground. Suffice it to say, some people got a stern (well-deserved) talking to just after.
Everyone dumps their gear in the packing shed and we all head to the dining room for chip sandwiches for lunch and wait for the Load 2 gear up call, which I'll finally be on. In the meantime, I met Ang, my JM2, an awesome chick/girl/female/lady who works out on the coast doing tandems over the beach (I can only dream), and all three of us spend the next 45 minutes or so discussing the jump plan in between by forty thousand questions. The call finally comes and it's a surreal feeling, to finally be doing something that I've waited for so long to do. My eyes blurred over, selective hearing kicked in and I went off to my special place for a while to savour the moment. Daz shakes me free of my fantastical thoughts and we race off to the holding area, where everyone else is kitted up and waiting for us.
We jump in the mockup aircraft and get ready for our exit. Check-in, Check-out, Up-down-owwww!! F$#k!! I think I left half my skull in the doorway. I went and checked while the stars cleared and we tried again, this time successfully, all the while vowing to be more careful when it was for real. We wander over to the plane, climbing in next-to-last; a position I don't relish. See I like to watch everyone else exit, it calms my nerves a bit thinking "If they can do it than so can I!". Of course, the "If they can do it after me than I can go first" never seems to enter my mind when I'm sitting right next to the door with only one person in front of me.
We get to about 7000 feet and I take a look at the window and locate the shit-pits and the racecourse, from which I can get my bearings and find the air strip, which being gravel blends into our, currently very dry, landscape quite well.
We come onto jump run at 14,00 feet, 5 miles out and everyone starts shuffling around, getting pin checks and high-fiving. We've decided to exit on green since the wind has picked up and is now gusting to 15 knots on the ground. I'm quietly confident about this jump, I just know its all gonna go well, my blood is pounding in my ears, and the adrenalin has kicked in. The door swings open and out goes the solo in font of me. Ang takes point in the front of the doorway, and I crawl up next to her awkwardly putting my right foot forward like I've been instructed. Daz takes up grip on my leg straps on the inside and I start my countdown. I lightly step out the door and take my first flight in months. Its exhilerating, and I just relax back into my arch and watch the aircraft disappear into the distance. My practice PC pulls go perfectly, so Ang flies around in front of me and starts pulling faces. I must have the biggest, silliest grin on my face, and I'm absolutly lovin' every second of it.
Ang starts moving around me, and we play follow the leader for a bit before I loose awareness of my legs and let one drop slightly. Into a spin I go, the world getting ever bigger and spinning faster and faster, Daz is holding on for dear life, spinning around with me as I struggle to get things back under control. Suddenly I realised that I was panicing and instantly like water pouring over me, I achieved a surreal calm state, and fixed my legs before turning back the opposite direction and slowing us down. 5000 feet is quickly approacing, and Ang promised that she would dump for me if I didnt wave at 5 grand. There was sure as hell no way I was gonna allow that, so I wave off, and pitch the piece of cloth that's gonna stop me hitting the earth.
For the first time I notice few stages of the deployment like it's happening in slow motion, then BANG! I get massively slammed, the leg straps ride up into my crotch causing excrutiating pain, my back and neck feel like I've got a hydraulic press crushing down on my head, and all of the sudden Feel violently ill. I remember thinking, "Shit this hasn't happened before.", followed by, "F$%k I hurt".
I've preorganised with the ground staff and my JM's to let me have some time to play with the canopy and get a feel for faster maneuvres, and I've designated myself a big area on the far side of the DZ to stay out of the way. The pain is too much, and coupled with the intense nausea, all I can manage is to keep a slow holding pattern in my little area. Down to a thousand feet and I kno I've got to start getting my approach ready, so I do a 270 turn and head downwind, locate my cross and start heading somewhat cross wind, struggling to make head way with now very strong winds. About 400 feet I turn onto my final appoach, just thinking about how desperately I want to stand up this landing, which I'm seriously thinking is not gonna happen in my current sad and sorry state.
The ground starts to rush up to greet me, and I start my flare at just the right time to come to a complete stop and gently land on the grass, before promptly collapsing to my knees with the realisation that it was all over, completely emotionally and physically drained, and somewhat happy the have the pressure off my legs all the while realising that I was dying to do it all again, pain or no.
Daz comes running over and jumps on the canopy which is now almost completely infalted and about to drag me away. He's got a big grin on his face, and tells me how awesome my jump was. It's a great feeling, I can't wait for next weekend and Stage 5 which got canceled today cause of wind hold, probably for the better in my case. Hopefully next time my opening wil be a little gentler so I can really enjoy the ride down.
timmeh
