My mom always told my brother and I that if we do something dangerous, she doesn’t want to know till after we survived. So, it couldn’t have been THAT unexpected when she received a text on the first day of my brother’s visit to L.A. that we successfully jumped out of a plane.
Okay, she was a little surprised. And disappointed. And honestly, I kind of was, too! I had been dreaming of skydiving since I reached the height and weight requirement of the feat and thought that my brother’s first visit to my new life in California was the perfect excuse. So, he did some research on the prettiest venues and most trusted companies (with the best groupons) and gifted me a 10 a.m. appointment at Skydive Coastal California in Camarillo for Christmas.
Buzzing with adrenaline and caffeine from the Yerba I downed during the drive, we suited up in some harnesses that felt way too loose. We took a five-minute car ride in a busted-up Subaru with our pilot and two instructors and soon we arrived at the smallest plane I think I have ever seen. Seriously, this plane was smaller than my twin XL bed in Hedrick Hall! Strangely, I was not feeling any fear. I am terrified of most heights (a strange fear to have for someone so eager to skydive) yet felt nothing whatsoever. My brother elected me to jump first, so he and his instructor crawled in the tiny vehicle first, and I followed with my instructor. As we took off, our legs were still hanging out of the plane because the inside of the plane was SO SMALL that the window barely closed. After our initial takeoff, it did eventually close, but I felt like I was basically sitting on the wing. Our plane didn’t feel like it was soaring, as it does when you fly in a commercial plane — it felt more like a pitter-patter in the sky. We saw the varying topography from the sky in what seemed like slow motion compared to what you see flying into LAX. The surface from this height seemed more detailed and also part of a bigger picture of the little town. The view was wicked cool in a way that I knew we chose the perfect location for our jump.
We got to enjoy our view for a bit during our ascent and then all of a sudden it was time to jump. The window opened, we planted our feet on the wing and then we just rolled off. There was no moment of hesitation, there was no time for that. There was no time to even think of the emotion of fear, not to mention feel any of it. All of a sudden, I was just free-falling from 10,000 feet and it felt so, SO freeing.
However, I was expecting that feeling of your stomach dropping when you go down a rollercoaster. But, there was only the tiniest millisecond of that feeling before all I could feel was the wind and air resistance pushing back at me. After about 20 seconds, we pulled the parachute and were in a slow, wavering descent as opposed to the racing we had felt a few seconds ago. I was able to take the handles of the parachute to steer us and to do some loopy-loops in the sky. Overall, we were in the air for about 3-5 minutes. My brother hit the ground first, because of weight and gravity, even though he jumped second. When it came time, the instructor flew us right over to a little patch of gravel outside of a preschool, then we lifted our legs and skidded to a stop. Walking afterward felt a little bit like walking on land after being on a boat. The adrenaline of the jump lasted for the rest of the day.
Overall, it was a very cool experience, but I would not do it again if I’m being completely honest. It was awesome to do as a first-timer but I feel like it would not be worth the money and the hassle to repeat. I was expecting a lot more of a thrill, and although it was fun, it wasn’t the most unique thrill-seeking experience I have ever had. So, while I would highly recommend sky diving once in your life, as it really is not as scary as most people think and it feels like your soul is being cleansed, I probably won’t be a returning customer.