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I have his name written down somewhere... Because of my age this skydiving place (very reputable) would not allow me to dive unless I went with a "Master Instructor" - someone who has completed at least 10,000 dives! As he put on my harness he gave me a long look and asked, "Do you have any health problems I should know about?" (the form asked a similar question), I said, "None I'm going to tell you about." The first three heartbeats out of the plane were the best of my entire life... then he released the tiny spacial orienting chute and the discomfort began (I smiled for the camera). He took good care of me.., kept me from upchucking :) and got us very nicely to the ground. I landed in a sitting position (gently) and it was over half an hour before I could stand up... over an hour before I could get in the car to ride home. I'd do it again if it wasn't so expensive... after all, I lived when I didn't think it was possible, so I guess I'll need to hang onto what little money I have at least a bit longer. Long enough to get me through Chinese medicine for a couple of months, I hope.
At first, as the plane climbed, I thought, "Oh, wow! We're going to be above the clouds!" Then, as the clouds receded out of sight below the plane I thought, "What am I doing here?" Crouched in the open door of the plane, with nothing under my chin but 3-1/2 miles of air, I thought, "How do I get myself into these things?" Then... "Yeeeeeee-haaaaaaa!!!!! Yow-eeee!"
I figured that if I was going with someone who'd done this 10,000 times (and had a very personal interest in getting us safely to the ground) it was "safe as taxi rides". In fact, I've had taxi rides that were just as scary! :)
