The Last Crazy Thing Left to Do...

Back in October I met an American girl who told me about how she had gone parachuting in a sketchy army plane without any doors. I personally didn't think it was a good idea to trust a Russian parachuting club. A few months later I forgot about Canadian standards. That's how the story begins.

While I was rafting, there was a guy who spoke to me about parachuting and then passed me the number of an instructor. I was sold on the price: only $50 Canadian! I had always wanted to go in Canada, but I had never felt willing to pay the $250. This was my chance. I couldn't convince Dina to go with me, but thankfully Alexei when he heard about it was rather enthused.

I was out at a restaurant with a friend when I got the message: "Meet tomorrow at the bus station, 7:00. Bring sports clothes. Wear shoes without heels. Grab your passport."

"Ok!!" No heels? Actually, some girls here don't own shoes without heels.

It was a 5 am wake-up to make it to the bus for 7. We spent five hours on the bus to Arsene'ev, and then another hour by local bus to the airport...

(Thankfully we got a drive home!)


It was sunny and hot when we got there. They took our blood pressure and made us sign some documents. Then it was time for training. This was the scariest part: no one spoke English! And I couldn't help thinking, "What if I haven't understood something that's really important!?" Thankfully, the instructor went through all the drills rather slowly and carefully with me.

We got lined-up under this tent and everyone was rather quiet and nervous.

Time to board the plane.

I felt like I was in the army: we squeezed onto the plane, all ten of us, onto small, metal seats and watched as the plane took off, the door left slightly open for "air-conditioning."

After a few minutes it was already time to jump! The instructor turned to Alexei and I--"First, second!" We lined-up behind the open door where I could see land 800m below us. There was no time to think about doubting, Alexei disappears from view. My foot is now on the doorsill--"Go!" the instructor yells, giving me a light tap on the back, I jump!

There were the first scary seconds of trying to remember what the instructor had told me to do--squeeze into a ball, wait two seconds... I could feel myself simply falling. Then there was the strong tug and the parachute flew open. I stopped falling and started floating. I smiled and looked around me: I was sitting in the middle of the sky!

Landing wasn't as awful as I had anticipated: the ground came up to meet me, my feet hit soil and I rolled over and stayed laying down for a few seconds looking at the sky--"I did what?" And, "I'm alive!"

 

 We were still feeling a bit bemused by the whole affair when we received our official certificates stating that we had done our first jump!