“I just want to get it over and done with.”
Those were my apathetic words to Ryan, who spotted me a lift to Skydiving Jeffreys Bay on the Saturday I’d booked my death fall. (I was awaiting the arrival of my Jimny–another frothing dream that came true–so I called other people my ride.)
“No man, J, you can’t have that attitude.”
Well, you know what, Ryan, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal, I can. And I will. I paid for the experience. I can feel about it exactly how I want, or feel nothing about it at all, should I be so inclined.
And so we waited for the jump to happen. Just to get it done with. Out of the way. So I can go have a coffee at First Light or something.
It wasn’t a clear morning. I had booked a beach landing, but because of mist rolling in from all sides that idea was dropped.
Fine, no problem. I’ll accept it. (What choice do I have?)
They have a quaint little restaurant at the drop zone. Should we have a burger while we wait? Nah, wait until after the landing. That is, if you land with your intestines intact, and you still feel like eating something. (We landed intact, and the burgers were delicious, BTW.)
Before we took off in the casket with wings, the guy doing my video footage took me aside in what was no doubt an attempt to get me psyched up about meeting my Maker.
It didn’t work.
My liver, lungs, heart and kidneys were so busy trying to avoid being eaten by my nerves that my brain was set to: do not break down like a little girl in front of this man.
Nice guy though, Brandon, and once he’s out of the plane (he goes first, since he films it all), it seems like he forgets he’s on his way to earth at the speed of stink, taking video footage of the dude with the mid-life crisis stuck to another guy (with a slight midsection crisis, prolly because of his wife’s amazing cooking) by a few centimetres of nylon strap.
I chose the 11,000-foot jump; it’s the highest they offer. Figured if I’m going to meet Jesus, I want my exit to leave an impression. A big one.
What was the hairiest part of it all, though?
Was it climbing steadily to an altitude of 11,000 feet in something small enough to fit inside the glove compartment of a Jimny?
Was it knowing I was about to jump out of a plane with a dude stuck to my back, which means, should the chute not open, and we’d plummet to our deaths, I’d be sandwiched between maybe an anthill and some dude with the nickname, Krummels?
(Really nice guy, by the way. If you want someone stuck to your back while plummeting to earth at 222 kph, Krummels is the man for the job. “Hoekom smile jy so? Het jy weer koekies gesteel? Is daai krummels op jou bek?” “Nee ma, ek het ge-skydive, met Krummels op my back.”)
The hairiest part was watching the lady who opted for the lower altitude jump, disappear out of the plane’s door. Now she’s here, now she’s gone. Poof.
I felt like tapping the pilot on his shoulder and asking whether he was aware of the fact that two people had just exited the plane (rapidly) before landing.
Any case, the actual exiting of the plane was nothing short of spectacular.
The 30 second free-fall following the exit was incredible. Such a rush. Literally.
Travelling at 222 kph without a helmet, no roll cage and lack of a safety belt is phenomenal.
And there were no sky cops on the day, so no speeding ticket.
It’s probably the best way to straighten your hair (or at least attempt to do so).
I was exhausted after that jump. Also, I get nauseous easily, so the spins worked my system.
Was it worth it, though? Absolutely! Seriously considering doing a course.
A big thank you
Just want to give a shoutout to Appstrax Technology, who sponsored my jump. So thankful to them.
They’re made up of a bunch of the coolest people I know. If you need custom software, or a WordPress website geared towards conversion, Appstrax is the company for you.
With top developers who not only understand coding, but have a deep grasp of information structures, these okes can do it. Yes, even AI and blockchain. Easy.
Visit Appstrax for your custom software needs.
