Tuesday, 10 May 2005
Flying Like A Bird with No Wings!
I couldn't tell you what made me do it. I mean, I wanted to do it. I'd been
saying so for months. It's one of the only things I had planned ahead of time
to do when I got to New Zealand. But nonetheless, I've spent the past two days
trying to talk myself out of doing the 134 meter Nevis Highwire Bungy jump outside
of Queenstown. I talked myself out of doing the one in Cairns, Australia because
I knew I was coming to NZ. And if I was going to do something as silly as throw
myself out into space with nothing more than an industrial strength rubber band
tied around my ankles, I was going to do it from the highest land-based site
in the world. That way I would only have to do it once. As they say in New Zealand,
"Go Hard." I was pumped. I'm a tough guy! None of those little 50
and 60 meter bungy jumps for me! That's what I had been saying all the way through
the north island, and Fiji, and most of the south island as well!
But now that the time had come, actually going through with it and putting my
money where my mouth was turned out to be harder than I had anticipated. You
see, apparently my brain chose this time to remind me that I'm actually afraid
of heights. And apparently that fear is almost more potent when I'm standing
on the ground creating it in my mind rather than actually plummeting through
the air towards a shallow river. Everytime I crossed the street, I would look
down past my feet on the curb and imagine that the trickle of water running
down the gutter was actually the river that I would soon be falling towards.
And it looked like a loooong way down from where my eyeballs were. I was having
a hard time convincing myself I could actually go through with it, and had I
been on my own, I may have conveniently "forgotten" about it altogether.
Thankfully, my girlfriend Amy has joined me on my travels for three weeks. We
must have walked in and then right back out of the bungy center in town at least
three times before Amy finally did all the talking for me and handed the girl
behind the counter my credit card as I stood there trying not to look scared,
but unable to speak. It was like...I don't know what it was like. But my heart
was racing and I was breathing fast, and I was just scared, dammit! But there
was no turning back now. Yet somehow, the 45 minute bus ride to the actual bungy
site seemed to calm my nerves. But my blood pressure shot right back up again
when we arrived.
A small hut on a cliffside served as the office and editing bay for the DVDs
of the jumps that they sold. And what looked like a small metal ski hut hung
out over the center of the canyon suspended by two hefty cables. And those two
things are all that make up one of the most popular adreneline destinations
in New Zealand.
After our safety briefing we were given our last chance to back out. We would
be given a full refund minus the cost of transport. And the rest of the refund
would be given in the form of a voucher redeemable at...the AJ Hackett Bungy
center where you could purchase any one of the fine selection of AJ Hackett
t-shirts, stickers, hats, sweatshirts, or mugs. Or you could use your remaining
money to jump from one of the smaller jump sites. I asked my hand to throw itself
into the air and volunteer for the refund option. I asked it so politely. But
my hand and arm just sat there quietly at my sides. Both arms at both sides.
And there went my last chance to back out. In fact, no one in our group of 13
jumpers took the refund option. We had all resigned ourselves to our fates,
as if we all had our own sins to repent for, and this was our path to forgivness.
You could tell by the same glazed look in everyone's eyes that seemed to say,
"If this is the end, then so be it."
We were harnessed up in a rock-climber's style harness and transferred to what
I will call the "jump pod" in about three groups by way of a small
cable car/gondola. I tried to shake the feeling that I was on my way to some
sort of retro-futuristic execution ceremony, but that's what I felt. Like I
was on my way to be sacrificed to the river Gods to keep the river from flooding.
I had paid an extra fee to have Amy come along as moral support and documentary
camera girl. A small price to pay to have her smiling face by my side should
these be my last minutes on Earth. It was going to be nice to have a last kiss
just before my jump. And it was going to be nice to have a celebratory return
kiss should I have a triumphant return to celebrate.
There was a plexiglass window in the floor of the pod so that you could watch
all the others jump, and fall, and bounce safely on their cables before you
jumped yourself. And to be honest, it looked worse than it was. But I didn't
know that yet. All I knew was that it looked bad. It looked very very scary.
I watched, and tried not to watch, as about half of the jumpers went before
me. Some went twice! That was another option we were given. If you came back
up and wanted to do it again, it only cost an extra $79. One showoff jackass
[with really bad teeth and an adolescent mohawk haircut (out of place on his
40+ year old body)] jumped off the roof of the pod. "Wow!" we all
thought sarcastically, "He got an extra 8 feet of freefall! I'll bet that
makes a huge difference when you're talking about 134 meters!" But everyone
came back with smiles on their faces. More importantly, everyone came back.
Period.
And then it was my turn. That blank, distant stare had cemented itself to my
face as my name was called and a technician began strapping large blue pads
tightly around my ankles as I waited for the jumper in front of me to jump.
I walked to the "on deck" chair (getting my last kiss from Amy along
the way) to have my legs bound and that industrial strength rubber band strapped
to my feet. Turns out it was actually strapped to my waist, but ran between
my ankles in a way that would allow me to bounce twice upside down, and then
be hauled back up to the pod in a sitting position after I pulled the release.
I was assured that it was not at all possible for me to release myself from
the bungy cord entirely. I could only release my ankles and put myself into
a more comfortable sitting position.
I was ready. As least as far as logistics were concerned. I had paid. I had
been weighed. I was harnessed. I had been safety-briefed. I was attached to
a bungy cord. It was my turn to go and there were people waiting.
Mentally, I had gone to a different place. I took baby steps as I walked out
to the edge of a two-foot-long by one-foot-wide diving board. Steps even more
baby then were necessary considering my legs were bound together 1/3 of the
way up my shins. A cool breeze drafted through the pod as I reached out to my
sides for something to grab onto. There was nothing. The pod had been cleverly
designed so as to offer the jumper NOTHING to hold onto when they change their
mind halfway through the motion of the jump. During our safety briefing, we
were told to look out to the horizon where the canyon turned the corner, and
find that lone tree which sits there at eye level (there was only one). Focus
on that tree, and when you jump...try to grab that tree. The tree was easily
a quarter of a mile away. I looked down. I didn't allow myself to see past the
tip of my toes. I felt the weight of the bungy cord as it hung, dangling in
space below me, as if tugging me out after it. I was vaguely aware of the reassuring
weight of the jump technician's hand holding onto the straps of the harness
which criss-crossed my back so I wouldn't fall out before I was ready to jump.
I refocused my sight on that tree. Oh, friendly tree. Giver of Life. Come to
me, friendly Tree.
Off in the distance I heard a voice. "5-4-3-2-1 BUNGY!" I flinched,
but my legs didn't jump. "Oh, sorry" said the voice behind me in the
distance. "I wasn't ready."
And I stood there with my toes hanging over a 134 meter (approx. 402 feet) expanse,
focusing on that tree on the horizon. I tried not to think of the jinx that
had been laid upon me when the guy who strapped the blue pads to my ankles asked
if I was accident prone. I tried not to think about how even with all of this
heavy equipment and thick bungy cord, and nylon straps, and titanium carribeaners
along the way, the whole device seemed to lead back to a 1/2 inch thick bolt
running through a small eyelet at the top of the pod cabin. And somehow I managed
to put out of my head the fact that it was the very jump technician who had
just strapped me to the bungy cord who had just told me that HE wasn't ready!
He's just joking, I thought to myself as I looked down at my toes again. This
time I caught a glimpse of the river down below. So far down below. Back to
my friend, the tree.
I couldn't tell you what made me do it, but when that voice right behind me
in the great distance counted down again, "5-4-3-2-1 BUNGY!" I sprang
as hard as I could for that tree on the horizon. And you know what? I almost
got it. I would've grabbed it too, if it wasn't for that pesky enemy of flight
which has plagued land-based man throughout history. Gravity.
Gravity immediately took over and had its way with me. I was in the midst of
the most graceful swandive of my life. I was flying. Flying like a bird with
no wings when Gravity said to me "Come 'ere, Bitch! Get down here where
you belong!" There was a split second when my stomach and the rest of my
organs tried to stay in the pod where it was safe. But soon they joined me in
my plummet downward. I quickly lost the feeling of flight, and had it replaced
with the feeling of FALLING. Falling very quickly, as it turns out. Falling
towards a rather shallow looking, narrow river. I no longer felt like a bird
with no wings. I felt like a bowling ball which had been tarred and feathered
and executed for crimes he did not commit!
About halfway down, I heard a noise chasing me and realized that I was actually
screaming. Not like that little girl ear-piercing oh-my-God-I've-just-seen-a-mouse
scream that I used the first time I got my teeth drilled. But a much more mature
AAAAAaaaaaaahhhhh!!! sound like when Luke Skywalker found out that Vader was
his Father and fell through the exhaust port in Empire Strikes Back (his was
more of a NNNnnnnnooooooo!! sound, but it was the same manly scream. And that's
all I'm sayin'.) Other than that, the whole thing is mostly a blur to me. I
remember the river which had seemed so far below me suddenly seeming close enough
to touch. And I remember a fantastic feeling of relief and a release of adreneline
as the bungy cord gently pulled taught and bounced me back up the same as everyone
I had watched before me. And I laughed uncontrolably. Scary part over. The whole
initial freefall took less than three seconds.
I bounced again. At the top of the second bounce I reached for the release strap
next to my left shin and gave the red handle a smart tug. And I bounced again.
Upside down. I tried it again at the top of the third bounce. Nothing. It was
stuck. I briefly wondered how much of a complication this was going to be, but
eventually I gave up and just rode back up to the pod feet first. I was pulled
into the pod hanging upside down like a piece of meat. A P.O.W. from the dark
ages. Or (to stay with a theme) like Luke Skywalker when he was captured by
the Ice Monster on the remote Ice-Planet of Hoth and he was hung upside down
with his feet frozen in ice and his trusty Light-Saber just out of reach.
To my somewhat relief, the release handle really was stuck. It wasn't just that
I was too weak to pull it, or did it incorrectly or anything as embarasing as
that. It took a rather concerted tug from TWO technicians (one to hold me still
and the other to pull the handle) before I swung down into that long awaited
more-comfortable sitting position. Of course, it was such an abrupt transition
from upside-down world to right-side-up world that I got disorriented adn nearly
fell out of the pod again! Luckily I was still strapped in. They're pretty good
about making sure you're strapped into SOMETHING at all times. Amy was strapped
in the whole time, and she wasn't even jumping.
The first thing I did when I was safely back in the pod was go for that celebratory
triumphant return kiss from Amy. Twice. :) And then it was back on the cable
car to solid ground where I took the oportunity to go and clean the adreneline
out of my shorts.
It took a little encouragment, but I got it done. And yeah, I would probably
do it again in the right circumstances. Because nothing could possibly be as
scary as jumping from that height. And next time, I'll be less scared and more
excited. Or maybe more scared and more excited at the same time, if that's possible.
Damn...now I want to go do it again!
"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving
safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways,
thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming 'Wow - what a ride!'"
~
Peter Sage
Props to my Peeps, and Peace on the Mothership,
Chris