Blech. I’m tired.

I did go to the gym this morning. It took me 23 minutes to do my 2 miles. I only did leg work for lifting, but the exercises I did were the big ones: Stiff-Legged deadlift (3 sets 15 reps 75lbs) and Squats (3 Sets 15 reps 70lbs).

I’m about ready to hurl after those babies. I still need to work on my grip some time during the week because I think I could easily handle more weight on the deadlift.

I also tested my chin-ups and I can’t get past 2 good ones.

Anyways:

I haven’t been a skydiving instructor for long; I received my rating last May.

My official rating is Accelerated Freefall Instructor.

The word ‘accelerated’ simply means the students (allegedly) learn at an accelerated rate as opposed to the old static-line method which is still used and quite popular in smaller drop zones. Accelerated Freefall (AFF) can be completed in as little as 7 jumps while static line can take 20 jumps. AFF is not less expensive, however.

The AFF instructor’s course was grueling. It consists of two parts: groundwork – which involves learning how to teach on the ground, and skydive work – which involves helping students during the skydive itself. ‘Helping’ includes giving the student hand signals to correct his body position, stabilizing the student should he need it, and even opening the student’s parachute should he need it.

Our instructor, Billy, insisted that students would do things to us that we wouldn’t dream of when we complained about how hard the skydive part of the testing was. He also showed us plenty of highly entertaining video to back up his claim.

My first Student from Hell was a very nice elderly gentleman who was simply not physically fit enough nor mentally ‘there’ enough to do an Accelerated Freefall skydive for his first jump. He was the poster child for tandem rides. He had a difficult time with the basic body position, called an ‘arch’ (hips down, legs out at 45 degree angle and bent at knees 45 degree angle, arms spread in lazy w even w/ head, eyes on the horizon). I worked with him individually many times trying to teach him the first skydive – all AFF skydives are practiced on the ground repeatedly until the student knows the jump inside and out. He constantly had problems with the dive flow.

The first jump is technically very easy – for the instructors. We simply hang on; one hand gripping the student’s leg strap, the other one gripping the arm of the student’s jump suit. Once this formation is out the door and stable we can let go of the arm to throw hand signals in the student’s face.

So my husband and I are the instructors on this jump. I am very comfortable when doing an AFF jump with him because he has a great deal more experience than I have. On this particular jump, he was on the left side of the student, I was on the right. The instructor on the left is closest to the reserve parachute handle; the instructor on the right is closest to the main parachute handle.

The exit is not so great but we wrestled the poor man into position. His arch was completely messed up. He had his arms and knees down, like he was crouching on the floor on all fours. I let go of his arm to give him an arch signal bit I immediately had to retake my grip because he would have flipped over. My husband was having similar problems, but he was able to position himself in such a way that he could throw signals.

Surprisingly, at the bottom of the skydive, this man was aware enough to pull for himself. My job as the main side jumpmaster is to pull the main handle if the student doesn’t. Once the handle is pulled (and in this case, the handle is a small pilot chute, which is thrown into the air and pulls open the main parachute), I can’t do anything else so I release the student and book out of there.

The reserve side’s job is to assist the student should something go wrong at that moment in time. The student is literally ripped out of his hands once the parachute starts opening.

We saw it on video afterwards. I saw the pilot chute extracted; I left. The student didn’t let it go right away, and he tilted on his side. Finally he lets go, has a horrible opening, but it does open.

Just not all the way.

When I leave, I wait a few seconds then open my own parachute. Once it’s open, I look for the student to make sure everything is okay. I don’t see him. I do a slow circle, then I see him below me.

A student should be open by 4500 feet. I normally open at 3500 -2500 feet. See the problem?

I get closer to him and I realize his parachute is only partially inflated; I can’t make out why. This problem explains the altitude discrepancy; he doesn’t have the square footage overhead to slow him all the way down.

He seems to be struggling with something but I can’t tell. I’m yelling ‘cut away!’ at the top of my voice but he has to be a good 500 feet off. Finally, to my relief, at about 1500 feet above the ground, he does get rid of his malfunctioning main canopy and open his reserve.

I am still above him and getting closer, and I notice something strange. He is flying backwards!

I get close enough to see the lines of his parachute: he has line twists. If you have ever sat in a swing then twisted yourself around, you get out of line twists the same way. He never tries to kick out of them.

He is thankfully not trying to steer, but he is not trying anything else, either. He is headed past the drop zone, past all of the nice, flat pasture that makes up the northern end of the airport, and obliviously heading towards a ravine and trees. Me? I’m finally getting lower than him and have to all of a sudden decide where I’m going to land.

I figured I could follow his path of flight to the ground, but I decided screw that. If I busted my head I wasn’t going to do him any good anyhow. I landed in a fenced-in cow pasture and by the time I got my helmet off, he had gone behind some trees.

I only lost visual contact with him for about 3 minutes. Those were 3 long minutes. I remember what was going through my mind at the time: “Oh, god what if he’s dead? Oh shit please don’t let me have a dead student oh damn this sucks –bunny!- oh shit oh no….”

I’m serious; I’m gathering up my parachute and making a beeline for a gate when all of a sudden a huge fluffy bunny rabbit jumps past me. Okay, so I’m easily distracted.

One thing I like about Cullman, Alabama; whenever people have landed off the drop zone the local residents have been great about getting us home. A couple of nice guys in a pickup helped me over the fence and helped me find my student.

He had a scraped nose, but other than that he was fine.