Ready, Set, Go!

Its 4:55am as the first alarm of my cell vibrates on the nightstand. I wake with a flutter in my chest on this day. I turn off the alarm and snuggle up with the covers to repeat the same process, for two more alarms. A morning ritual I have practiced for many years now, I suppose it’s another expression of how I ease myself into things.

5:20 the flutters continue, I’m up out of bed and getting ready for the big day ahead. Alex already up, dressed and standing in the kitchen waiting. I dress warmly, in wind pants and a fleece; brush my teeth, and wrap up my long red hair. Lastly I slip on my sneakers, and lace them tightly. My cell vibrates again, a text from Tania wishing me good luck for the day. My bags packed the night before we head out the door and down the stairs. Both the flutters of nervousness and of excitement move from my chest to my belly.

Ready.

We cross town in my vehicle and pick up his. One pit stop in Trenton, I don’t dare eat anything, just a strawberry protein shake. We head northeast up Route 3 to catch I-95. Southbound we head down the highway seeking exit 150. I photograph the sign as we exit to document today’s adventure. Were looking for Harrison Avenue; the sun just high enough to shadow the sign and we miss it. We turn around just up ahead, right across the road from a cemetery, that’s not very reassuring I think to myself. Back in route we take a left and head on down to the end of Harrison and park at Curtis Air. The directions instruct us to walk across the aircraft parking area and warned to watch for airplanes!

A pretty chilly morning, not a cloud in sight and the bright blue sky beckons. We walk on the edge of the runway and head up toward the tree line where we are greeted by a man driving a golf cart.

“Hey there!” He shouts, “You going skydiving?”

“Yes!” We reply with smiles and giddy laughter.

“Hop on.” He invites and gives us a ride up to the Central Maine Skydiving building.

We enter the barn like structure; harnesses and parachute packs hang the length of one wall, the other hangs helmets, jumpsuits and goggles and such gear. A few funny posters and stickers stuck here and there, a tiny operation down this way. We are immediately handed waivers to sign over some of our rights.

“Be sure to read and check each of the boxes.” The lady explains.
These documents confirmed our willingness to chuck ourselves out of a perfectly good airplane. These rights we gladly exchanged for the experience to fall from the sky. Being our first jump we must jump tandem, harnessed to an experienced skydiver.Matt our instructor begins to explain the process and the steps we must follow. We listen closely and attentively, and discover that only one of us can jump at a time. I impulsively claim the liberty of jumping first and Alex complied.

I’m geared up in a jumpsuit, goggles, and a cap. The harness has been fashioned snugly around my petite frame. I collect my affirmations from my purse and stick them up the sleeve. A few words written on paper, things I want to embrace in my life and a few things I want to let go of. I give Alex a big hug, a tight squeeze and I’m off.

Set.

Another ride on the golf chart we head across the grass back to the runway to the plane. As instructed, I sit back-to the pilot, this being the tinniest airplane I’ve flown in and probably the oldest, a 1965 Cessna 182. Matt climbs in behind me and the other two jumpers follow suit. We taxi on down the runway, full throttle ahead, we take off. With wind beneath our wings, we elevate off the earth and into the air. Matt video tapes the view out the front windshield and I watch out the sides at the trees and watch as they slowly become blobs of color divided by lots of land, and water and buildings.

Jim is jumping first, at 5,000 feet. Jim unlatches the door and it swings open. The wind speaks loudly and nips at the face with its crispness, the engine cuts along with its sound. Jim steps out with one hand on the bar under the wing, one foot on the platform and the other foot behind him in the air. Then he steps backward and disappears from view, falling through the sky beneath us. I turn to the other jumper, Randy he looks at me and says, “Your next!”

Matt wears a wrist band altimeter, a digital device that calculates the level of elevation. I watch the digits rise.

“How are you feeling?” Matt inquires and turns the camera to me. Now this is when the nervousness hit me. Anticipating the next moments, I just sat there with my hands folded in my lap, calm and collected, peering out the window, anxiously awaiting my turn to fly.

“Your not gonna chicken out?” He asks.

“Hell no!” I shout and shake my head assertively.

“There no turning back now?” He asks

“No’sah.” I confirm with Downeast conviction.

I turn around to be harnessed to Matt. He tightly fastens the buckles to their straps and clasps the hooks to their loops. The door opens, the wind and its noise make the moment real. Still seated we turn together and I step my feet out onto the platform. The engine cuts and the plane slows. Feet together, I say to myself. Matt rocks forth, one, two, and

Go!

Free falling for 40 seconds at 10,000 feet above the land of Mother Earth, traveling through her bright blue sky at over 100 miles per hour, the video cam seated on his left arm captures this all. The look on my face, the air as it fills my mouth and puffs out my cheeks. I swallow that air and come to and greet the camera with a wide smile.

Randy is then seen free falling just a short distance away. We fall 5,000 feet of the sky until the parachute is deployed. We are quickly jolted backward and upward rapidly reducing speed.

“The chute was the scariest part!” I yell and Matt agrees.

Held together by rope, nylon and some trust we float along descending. I pull the pieces of paper from my sleeve. I read each one by one to myself and release it into the aerospace and into the cosmos.

Matt hands me the reins of the multi-blue colored parachute, I grip them evenly as we glide on down, I hand them back as the ground grows closer. The blobs reemerge as trees, and branches and leaves, Alex and a small group stand staring up at us. My legs straight out in front of me, like instructed and we fly in by the seat of out pants across the grass sopped in dew and we return to the earth.

“That was so much fun!” I exclaim and giggle repeatedly, grinning from ear to ear.I am over come with this sense of calmness, like I shed some nervousness up there in the big blue. I just learned how to fly, and experienced what goes up must come down. Devoured the taste of liberation, I was ready, and set to go.