#23: Skydive

"If riding in an airplane is flying, then riding in a boat is swimming. If you want to experience the element, then get out of the vehicle."

This weekend I willingly jumped out of a perfectly good airplane, and it still makes me grin from ear to ear when I think about it. This has to be the coolest thing on my list so far. If you have ever considered it, or even if you haven’t, you should. It wasn’t exactly something I had always aspired to do. I added it to the list because I wanted something on there that would be extreme and make me face fear… and skydiving seemed like the obvious choice.

I slept well Saturday night, and barely even thought about what the next day would hold. I woke up, made some coffee and watched a little TV. It wasn’t until I got in the shower and really started thinking about the day that I got nervous. I just kept trying to imagine what it would feel like to be standing in the open door of the plane, 13,000 feet above land, about to jump. I couldn’t imagine it at all, and that was what terrified me. I had no idea how my body was going to react or what it was going to feel like, and that scared me even more. Kevin asked if I was scared of getting hurt (what he really meant was dying), and I said no, I was more afraid of the fear itself, and having to force my body to jump when it was screaming not to.

We left the house and drove to Richmond to pick up Mike B, who would be jumping with us. The three of us drove to West Point, VA together, getting more and more scared along the way. As we turned onto Airport Rd the whole car was filled with nervous, hysterical giggles. We parked at the regional airport, and walked over to a hangar filled mainly with guys in their early twenties. There were a few people packing parachutes, an older co ed team practicing the formation they would do up in the air, and others just sitting around waiting. We signed several waivers, each indicating in bold letters that we were waiving important legal rights. Undeterred, we paid our money and nervously took a seat on an old couch with about 4 other first time jumpers. We watched a short video again informing us that we had waived our rights and neither us, our survivors, next of kin, assigns, attorneys etc could bring suit against West Point Skydive in the event of serious injury or death. Very comforting. After that, an instructor showed us the harness we would be wearing, and the parachute our tandem instructor would be wearing. He explained the full process of how the harness held us together, what position to take when jumping, how to land, etc. After that brief meeting, our tandems came over to introduce themselves.

My instructor was Mike and he was terrific. He gave me a jumpsuit, a helmet and goggles and then got me fitted into my harness. Then he very patiently listened while I told him that I was terrified, that I did not want to do any crazy flips, dives or spins, and did I mention I was terrified? I asked him about 393 questions while he strapped on the 70 lbs parachute and took a seat to wait for the plane. We didn’t wait long. Three minutes later the plane pulled up and Mike asked if I was ready.

We walked in twos to the plane, each instructor holding the back of their student’s harness. There were five jumpers in our group. The plane was filled to capacity. Inside, my instructor straddled a bench and I slid back to sit between his legs. Another duo sat in front of us, and two more pairs sat right next to us on another bench. Mike B and his instructor sat on the floor of the plane, right in front of the see thru door we would be jumping out of. In fact, as soon as we got in the air, they opened the door halfway, and poor Mike realized his experience looked nothing like the training video we had watched. His instructor was sitting in front of him, rather than behind.
The plane climbed higher into the air, and I took a few deep breaths with my instructor. I couldn’t believe how calm I felt. I think I’m more jittery typing this now, than I was on the plane. Adrenaline must have already taken over at that point. I remember thinking over and over again, I can’t believe I’m not more scared. Mike started to fidget behind me and I could feel him attach our harnesses at the bottom. We flew a little higher and he told me to go ahead and put my helmet on. As we neared the drop zone, he had me sit up into his lap as he hooked our shoulders together. He told me when it was time, he would ask “are you ready to skydive?” at which point I had to say Yes, and then we would jump. We reached our altitude of 13,000 feet and the plane leveled off, creating a sinking feeling in my stomach.

The door was opened all the way, and the air rushed into my face. I was sitting at the front of the plane, and there were four tandems to jump in front of me. Mike B was up first. Somehow he and his instructor had managed to switch around and get their harnesses connected. Mike B is a pretty tall guy, so his instructor actually had him kneel in the doorway, and when it was time, the pair just leaned forward and flipped out of the plane. It looked terrifying from my view point. Kevin was up next, and he and his instructor also made for a fairly tall team. They ended up on their knees in the doorway and also seemed to just tumble out of the open door in a way that I’m not sure was entirely intentional. As I watched the man I love’s feet roll over his head and disappear out of the plane, I again thought I should be more scared. But there was just no time to think; it all happened so quickly. As soon as Kevin rolled out of the plane, the group sitting in front of me waddled to the door. As soon as they were there, my instructor had me scoot to the front of the bench and then support my weight in a squat position as we got off the bench. By this time the team in front of us had gone, I never even saw them jump. I waddled over to the doorway, and just stared out. My right toe had caught the edge of a seatbelt, and just to be safe my instructor moved it out of the way before proceeding. He asked if I was ready to skydive, and someone else’s voice shouted a definitive, “Yes!” We rocked forward, rocked back, and then rolled out of the plane. I assume we must have flipped around at least once or twice but I couldn’t tell. For about one second I had that terrible dropping feeling that you get when you ride a roller coaster and I was mad. Everyone had assured me that was not how it would feel. But it went away as fast as it came on. As soon as my mind could no longer register the distance from the plane, it no longer felt like dropping. All I remember thinking the whole time was I DID IT. I’M SKYDIVING. THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING, RIGHT NOW!!!

The closest thing I can compare it to would be swimming under water. The major difference is that instead of your legs or feet propelling you, all the work is being done courtesy of gravity, and you are free to just enjoy the ride. It’s incredible. I had asked my instructor to pull the rip cord for me, as I didn’t want to be responsible for anything on my jump. I was so scared I would hyperventilate or faint, that I thought the less I had to remember the better. I was still loving the free fall when I felt him check the altimeter and pull the chute at 6,000 feet. A sharp jerking motion ensued and I was suddenly dangling from a parachute high above the ground. It was beautiful. I could see miles of river cutting its way through the greenery on its meandering path to the coast. My instructor had me grab the handles and I practiced steering the parachute a few times. At that point the harness started to become really uncomfortable where it was digging into my shoulders and thighs. I put my hands back down to try and get some more blood back into them. We circled lower to the landing site, and I watched relieved as Kevin glided safely to the ground. We circled around again and coasted toward the grass as I pulled my knees up toward my chest. We approached the ground so smoothly that I landed right on my feet and immediately stood up. Mike B and Kevin came over to greet me while I high fived my instructor. The three of us walked back to the hangar, all smiling from ear to ear.

I’m so proud that I did this, and I know I would never have done it without this list. This project has made me commit to trying new things, some of which have been way outside of my comfort level, and it’s been an amazing ride so far. I would recommend skydiving to anyone, just the experience of pushing yourself beyond your fear was incredible. And I know three people who would love to take you whenever you’re ready.

13 down; 17 to go

#6: Visit NY's MoMA

This past weekend Kevin and I had a blast on a short trip to NYC, which again just goes to show you how much fun I’m having with this list. We would probably have talked about it, but never actually have taken the time to make this trip without the impending deadline of ‘the list.’ And I’m so glad we did, we had a great time.

First, I have a confession to make… after booking this trip to NYC I checked the MoMA’s website. I knew it stood for the Museum of Modern Art, but what I failed to realize was that I don’t really like modern art. To be accurate, it’s not that I don’t like it; rather I just love history so much more. I realized what I really wanted to see was the Metropolitan Museum of Art. So instead of going to the MoMA, as my list would make you believe, we headed to the Met instead. And again, it’s my blog, so I’ll do what I want!

The Met was amazing. My guess is that Kevin and I saw less than half of the exhibits, it is absolutely huge. But what we did see was fantastic, we spent the majority of our time in the 18-19th century paintings, where we saw Monet, Degas, Dali, Seurat, Matisse, Van Gogh and El Greco. One piece that caught my attention was Jules Bastien-Lepage’s Joan of Arc (1879). This picture doesn’t do it justice, it is awe-inspiring in person. In the image below you can barely make out the ghost like forms of the saints whose voices she heard; in the actual painting it is their halos that stand out, leading your eye to find their hidden images.

After our trip through the Met, we sat at the Rink Bar in Rockefeller Center (where the ice rink is in the winter) for a few drinks. Then we went back to the hotel, changed clothes and headed out for dinner and a show. The show was ‘Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson’ at the Public Theater, and it blew away all expectations. It was a historical, satirical comedy with an emo-punk score, and we were right in the front row for the whole thing. The star, Ben Walker, recently signed on for a lead role in the next X-Men movie (he’ll play Beast), so we’re hoping he makes it big and we’ll say we saw him when!

12 down; 18 to go

#25: Go Camping with no Supplies

I wish I knew where to start on this report. I can’t even find the right words to describe to all of you how absolutely horrible this trip was.

First of all, I’m fairly certain that no one is reading this blog, because I would like to think that someone would have stopped me from going on this god awful trip in the first place. I thought that the hardest item on my list would be skydiving, but that only reinforces my stupidity when it comes to this camping trip. Luckily, I had two friends with me who are either the best friends on earth, or equally stupid.

Kevin, Mike B and I set off for a camping adventure this past Saturday. We started off in Sandbridge, VA to hike our way through Back Bay Wildlife Refuge and into False Cape State Park, where we would be camping for the night, sans supplies. We each had a backpack filled with water, a few protein bars, and a knife. Oh, and sunscreen and bug spray, which are required (you’ll understand why shortly) by the park rangers. That was it for supplies: no tent, no sleeping bags. We were ‘roughing it’ in every sense of the expression.

The hike through the wildlife refuge is 6.2 miles. It’s beautiful, but there was not a scrap of shade to be found. We were being roasted by the sun. There was a fairly consistent breeze being that close to the coast, but when the air was still it felt so heavy it could choke us. There were swarms, I mean entire herds, of horseflies. You could not walk two feet with smacking into them. It would have been pretty had we been standing from a distance. We also saw several different types of birds and a few snakes (ahhhhh!), and the landscape was breathtaking. Or maybe we just couldn’t catch our breath because of the intense heat. We did a poor job of planning this trip, which I take full responsibility for. Earlier in the week, I checked the weather and saw the possibility of isolated thunderstorms and hoped it wouldn’t rain on us. By the time we got to our campsite, I was praying it would rain.

After the first 6.2 miles, we were through the refuge and into False Cape State park. We walked another mile to the Visitor’s center, and found it was air conditioned!! They also had drinking water for us to fill up our bottles. We took a 20 minute break, and then continued on the additional 3 miles to our campsite. By this time I had a raging headache. I was so hot, but the new water was so thick with chemicals and chlorine it made me sick. We had to take several breaks along the way, and I just kept repeating “Don’t give up” in my head. We finally made it to the campsite and I think all of us had a moment of “now what” as we pulled off our packs and sat down at the picnic table. I stretched out in the sand and went to sleep. The boys hiked the last tenth of a mile to the beach.

As I lay in our campsite I thought I might die. My head hurt so badly and I could feel that I was dehydrated, but the more water I drank, the more nauseous I felt. I knew I was suffering from heat exhaustion, but what could I do? There was no way I was able to turn around and hike the 9 miles back to the car. I laid there and fell asleep again, hoping it would pass. I woke up about 20 minutes later and felt worse. Of the 12 campsites at this park, all had been reserved for the weekend. Due to the heat, only two parties actually made it out, and the other happened to be camped right across from us. They walked over and told us that somehow, someway, they were getting out of there—and asked if we wanted to join them. I thought about it, and being with two stubborn Irish boys, I realized if I didn’t throw in the towel, they never would… no matter how bad they felt. I thought about how awful I felt, and considered pushing through anyway. And then I thought, I’m a 29 year old woman suffering from heat exhaustion and laying in the sand with ants, ticks, and flies all over me… and for what, just to prove I can? I told them I was sick and I wanted to leave too. Another few hours went by and finally the park rangers came to pick us up. They told us the heat index was over 110 degrees, and it probably wasn’t safe for us to stay out there.

So you can count this as a success or a failure. Personally I count it as a success, and it’s my blog, so mine is the only vote that matters. I made it through the hike to the campsite even though I wanted to give up most of the time. And although you may not be thinking that’s any great accomplishment, I’m telling you-- you weren’t there, it was excruciating. It makes my upcoming all-inclusive trip to Cancun look that much better.

11 down; 19 to go

#5: Cook Julia Child's Beef Bourguignon

Inspired by Meryl Streep's amazing portrayal of Julia Child in the movie Julie and Julia, or perhaps because of my love of impersonating French accents, I added this one to the list. If you’ve seen Julie and Julia, you know the dish. Beef Bourguignon (boeuf bourguignon in French) is really just a fancy pot roast made with red wine.

Since we’ve been talking about inspirational people lately, let’s add Julia Child to the list. When asked what she thought accounted for her longevity, she answered “red meat and gin.” That’s a health plan I can get onboard with. But more seriously, her best advice is to “find something you’re passionate about and keep tremendously interested in it.” Personally, I’m still searching for that one outlet or passion that I keep just for me, but I’m certainly having fun in the meantime. And of course, it’s never too late to pursue a new passion, Julia was 32 when she started cooking, as she notes, “up until then, I just ate.”

I do enjoy cooking, and over the past year my skills have definitely improved. I particularly love cooking French food, mainly due to the fact that most recipes involve wine. This means I’m required to have a glass while cooking, and it also makes the house smell wonderful. Beef bourguignon was no exception, as you pour the wine into the hot dish it sizzles and a heavenly smell floats up, making even the most novice of cooks feel like a gourmet chef.

Here if the final product, I served it over some crusty French bread rubbed with garlic, and it was exceptional. Also, this gave me a terrific opportunity to start my wine tour (for #26) through France. We had a wine from the Bordeaux region—it was good, but gave me a bad headache the next day.

Bon Appetit!

10 down; 20 to go

Sidenote on Stinkhorns

I had to take a moment to interrupt my normal blogging activities to ask you all…. WHAT IS THIS? What is this disgusting thing growing in my flower bed?

I came out of the house yesterday morning, locked the door and inspected my flowers as I was walking to my car. One of my new additions isn’t doing too well, I suspect it has to do with my neighbor allowing her dog to pee on it each morning. I haven’t yet been able to catch her in the act, but I’ve found the paw prints. Personally, I don’t think expandable leashes should mean that your dog is able to run from the sidewalk into my flower bed. But I digress…

During my quick morning glance, I saw this! This odd looking carrot-ish thing growing next to a azalea. My curiosity piqued, I walked over for closer inspection. It was about 4 inches high, orange, with a brown tip. I was baffled, how could something grow 4 inches overnight?
I drug Kevin out to inspect it as soon as I got home, and he was equally amazed and disgusted. The brown tip I had observed earlier now looked wet and smeared in poop. Kevin bravely poked it with a stick and we found out it was hollow and spongey.

While I made dinner, Kevin googled “what is this orange penis growing in my garden” and found out it is the Stinkhorn fungus, named quite appropriately. It is commonly found in commercial mulch, so after you stock up from Lowe’s you might find some in your garden. It’s not known to be poisonous, but the website cautioned that you shouldn’t eat it. Oh, good, thanks for the warning.

#18: Shoot a Handgun

My friend Joey suggested adding this one to the list and it made it in just under the wire. In fairness, Joe had suggested several items, but most tended toward the ridiculous (swim with polar bears, really?). But he made a strong case for this one, and on the list it went.

I have never shot a gun before, well, as long as we aren’t counting bb guns. Guns actually scare me a bit. I’ve never been a fan of loud noises—or deadly weapons for that matter. I put this one on the list because why not? This list is all about trying new things. And in the off chance I’m ever holding a gun between me and an attacker, I’m sure I would like to know how to use it.

While at my Uncle’s house this past weekend the topic of handguns came up, and when Karl found out it was on the list, a target was quickly put up and ammo brought out. And I was grateful to try this with a trusted instructor, versus feeling like an out of place idiot at a gun range.

First I shot a .22 revolver. I was nervous, not knowing what to expect as far as noise and force once I pulled the trigger. I carefully took aim and fired. And I hit my target, only about an inch down from the bullseye! I fired a few more rounds with the .22 revolver, improving almost every time. Then Karl switched me over to a .22 semi automatic target pistol. The words “semi automatic” are a bit daunting, but I took aim and fired again. Once again I hit my target consistently. At this point I was feeling overly confident, but it was short lived.

My uncle handed me a snubnose .38, and told me I would only be shooting this gun once. He also warned me this one would be much louder than the previous two. I didn’t realize to what extent. Since I only had one shot, I lined up my target, steadied my hands, and did my best to squeeze the trigger smoothly. The resulting sound terrified me. I heard a high pitch ringing, but everything else was muffled and distant. I immediately shied away and handed the gun back to my uncle. I could hear Kevin and Mom laughing, but it sounded like they were under water. I instantly understood those slow motion drama scenes in war movies, where the confused hero loses hearing after a gun is shot too close by.

All in all, I learned I’m a pretty good shot. And perhaps most satisfying, Kevin finally admitted that I might be good at archery—a little known fact I shared with him on our first date and a point of contention between us ever since. But you read it here first… I am both an archery ace and a crack shot!

9 down; 21 to go

#24: Take a Shot with my Uncle

Most childhood heroes tend to fall from grace as we grow up. You find out Santa Claus is more of a spirit than an actual man, not all policemen are good, and even Michael Jordan has a gambling problem. As we move further along into adulthood we lose the innocence and naivety through which we once viewed the world, and we begin to realize that few people can live up to the pedestal we’ve placed them on. But if we’re very lucky (or perhaps still a bit naïve) we can keep just one of those heroes alive.

Growing up, I idolized my Uncle Karl. He was a big kid himself, my own personal walking, talking jungle gym. After visits to his house my “What I did Over Summer Vacation” essays were filled with tales of learning to ride a horse, drive a tractor, fly an airplane, and throw a punch. My Uncle instilled his love of the beach in me, and taught me how to dive under the waves to avoid getting caught in the breaking point. He also taught me how to drive a stick shift at the age of 15, a practical skill I will forever be thankful for. From watching him, I learned the importance of being able to relax, kick back, open a cold one, and simply soak up a day.

More than a teacher, Uncle Karl has been an inspiration too. His life has been far from easy, but rather than complain he found a way to commit to the things he loves and embrace all the moments along the way. As a younger man he taught himself how to play the guitar and joined a band. Later he decided to try Karate and became a black belt. To take it further, he built his own dojo and became a sensei, teaching martial arts to kids. At some point he thought he’d like to fly a plane and rather than simply taking a lesson, he got his pilot’s license. He just doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘halfway’, with him it’s all or nothing. Once he makes up his mind, he is unwavering in his commitment towards his goal, something I have yet to master. In contrast, I feel like I am someone who starts several things, but finishes few; and it’s something I am continuing to work on (and a lot of what this blog is about). My Uncle Karl has unknowingly helped to motivate me in this pursuit.

When making this list I purposely left several of the objectives vague. I wanted to make sure I left enough room in the goals so that I would be able to achieve them all, no matter what came up over the next few months. For that reason, you’ll see open-ended items like “build something” on the list. I didn’t include any particular friends, family members or details, save one. “Take a shot with my Uncle” was put on the list to celebrate our relationship, and all the lessons he’s taught me… and you should never turn down a drink with a role model.

8 down; 22 to go