So forty years old is a milestone of sorts I guess. If you’re lucky, it’s half your time gone – or if you’re less pessimistic, you’ve made it half way!
What did I want to do on my 40th birthday? Go climbing, take in a film, maybe even just do something boring like walk around a flea market.
But no - I had a surprise waiting for me.
What would it be? I spent the final days of March 2012 thinking about what this surprise might be. Would we go to Disneyland to try and recapture my long ago lost innocence?
Would we run down to TJ to battle drug lords who were trying to kidnap us? Maybe drive further south to hang out with the whales? That would be nice…
The hints I was given were less than indicative of what lay in store. I would be ‘like a banana.’ I would be scared. Oh, I was also told to wear clothes I might wear to do Muddy Buddy – a red herring that had me thinking Cali arranged try out spots on Wipeout.
Great.
So what was it Cali had planned? She bundled me into the car around 9 AM on April 1st with these incredibly useful clues and my mind was like a rusty steel trap around the leg of an angry bear… annoying and very painful!
Like a scared banana in throw away clothes?
As soon as we started driving away from L.A. I soon realized it would not involve me getting covered in whipped cream and being split in half the hard way - terrified because I was dressed like a bum at Spearmint Rhino.
No – it had to be something special.
Something beyond my scope of experience.
I was turning 40 after all!
As we motored south towards San Diego I ran through the realistic possibilities – like snake handling. I hate snakes. Or a blimp ride – I love blimps! I started to think about the dumb stuff people do when they reach milestones in their lives – Rich hiked over half the John Muir Trail last year and he is old as dirt! Really, how bad could my 40th be? A lot of people do zany shit for their 40th - eat live octopus, swim with sharks, hitchhike across the USA, stuff like that.
Of course these people often decide to do these things ahead of time. Give themselves ample opportunity to prepare and psyche up… you know, some kind of pre-mid-life crisis thing.
After all, they’re gonna do something they would normally not ever do.
This was the thought in my head when I saw the sign announcing Lake Elsinore was a mere 47 miles away.
So what do people who turn forty do on their birthday? People who turn forty go to Lake Elsinore and do things like … like… uh…
Things like skydiving.
“I don’t want to jump out of a plane.” That’s what I said to Cali as the sign flew past - I don’t deal well with surprises and I handle fear with even less finesse.
She told me, with a straight face I might add, “You’re not going to jump out of an airplane, don’t worry!”
All of a sudden we are off the highway and I see the sign for Skydive Elsinore – the sinking feeling I had been trying to deal with all of a sudden turned into primal rage.
“I really don’t want to do this… I hate being scared.”
The next half hour was spent in the parking lot of the drop zone trying to rationalize why I was turning down a perfectly wonderful birthday present. I came up with plenty of reasons I would not be getting on a plane – my fear of heights. My fear of falling. The fact I am 99.98% wuss.
But then in a moment of terrified clarity I realized Cali hoped I would be psyched about the whole thing. What kind of a jerk am I? I’ve just been gifted what could turn out to be a really killer experience and I am trying to run away from it!!
Dumbass.
I did my best to put on an excited face and said something stupid like “Well, since you have already paid, let’s get it over with” and in we went. Right around the time I was singing here, initialing there and there and here and again there and here on a document that pretty much stated flatly skydiving has absolutely zero social value and that I was a fool to get on the plane, I realized Cali would not be joining me. She was simply standing beside me smiling as I signed away rights for the next 35 generations of offspring to sue, complain or even give a rats ass that I, who just made it half way through his life, was going to do something incredibly stupid. The feeling of primal rage and fear came back with a vengeance, but I was able to hold it at bay long enough to sign the final agreement that I had left all rational thought ability somewhere on the road to Elsinore.
Honestly the psyched part of me was only hiding. I could have still backed out – though I would have looked like a complete ass, but the option was there.
In a moment of weakness I handed the reigns over to this psyched part of my brain and all of a sudden the waiver was signed and I was donning my lovely blue jumpsuit.
The next hour or so was very unique. I spent some of it alone wandering around the drop zone while Cali went to get my last meal – 2 cheese burgers and some fries from McDonalds. Yes, my last meal was to be McDonalds.
It was delicious!
Then I heard my name called – time for some ground training. My tandem instructor turned out to be a very experienced jumper who trains Army personnel to do what I was about to do. He had some other worldly amount of jumps under his belt – on the order of 5,000 or more, I can’t recall. He was involved with R&D for new canopy designs. He was dashingly handsome and very positive about the whole ordeal. He even offered to let me pull the rip cord and steer once we were under the chute. Did this make me feel a bit better about the whole thing?
It did actually, and talking to the more experienced people hanging out in the drop zone helped too. One guy started flying when he was in his 50’s and is now filming experienced teams as they perform advanced acrobatics on the way down. I began to realize that this just might be one of the greatest birthday gifts anyone had ever given me! I looked down at my ridiculous blue jump suit and had to laugh…
It was at this moment I knew this would be something I would never forget. What was this thing?
I would never forget that Cali was NOT going to get on the plane with me!
All joking aside, I took the ground training quite seriously. The protocol is simple – in the plane my instructor would attach my full body harness to his and we would crab walk to the door near the rear of the plane. He would rock me forward twice then on the third we would exit the plane. My job was to tilt my head back to one side, arch my back and try to kick him in the butt with my feet.
Simple right?
Simple! The key was to grab my harness, tilt my head back, arch my back and try to kick my new best friend in the ass as we exited the plane.
Yes! I get it! Grab the harness here, tilt my head back, arch my back and try to kick you in the ass – got it!
We went over these very simple instructions numerous times as we ran to catch our flight. A simple plan to say the least, you must agree.
As this picture was snapped I was thinking, nearly out loud, “What has two thumbs, a goofy blue suit and no brain?!”
So what was the ride up like… I don’t really recall. No, honestly – I have very little recollection of what I was told would be a 20 minute flight. We joked a bit about my receiving this experience as a gift – had I pissed Cali off recently? I asked if the sensation of jumping out would be like taking a lead fall while climbing – no, it’s nothing like that I was told. I know the plane was climbing steeply, but I do not recall felling scared of that. But when I saw the above picture I remembered thinking “Yes, thumbs up means Hell Yes!” while trying to force a smile that would say “DON’T PUKE!” 
My apprehension is obvious in this picture. What was I thinking? Probably something about flea markets and how I would much rather be looking for some chingadera than getting ready to leave a functional aircraft at 12,700 feet.
Now it has been said there is no such thing as a perfectly good airplane. Those are clouds you see outside the door.
Clouds from above.
It was about this time I started shaking my head in protest, trying in vain to scream “This plane feels perfectly fucking good to me!”
This image is the last thing I saw before I felt my instructor giving me the Ole Heave Ho….
On the ground my instructor explained everything quite well.
On the ground I understood everything perfectly.
Unfortunately for him as soon as I knelt in the door of that plane as we were about to jump, my brain completely froze.
Did I grab my harness? No.
Did I tilt my head back to one side? No.
Did I try and kick my new best friend in the ass? Hell no.
We ended up doing a forward flip on the way out of the plane – something we were not supposed to do. Note the position of my hands here – way out to the sides… I was supposed to be holding the shoulder straps on my harness. Notice where my feet are? Yeah… I freaked right the heck out!
But somehow I overcame the fear and was able to begin to enjoy hurtling towards the earth at 130 miles per hour. I even managed to get into the proper position and register there was a cameraman in front of me!
Here my new best friend is monitoring the altitude – on the ground it was agreed that I would reach behind me and pull the rip cord at… at… some altitude that would keep us from getting real flat. I can remember this now, kinda, but in the moment I had absolutely no concept what so ever why this guy was slapping me on the shoulder!
Thankfully he realized I was worthless and pulled the thing… 
And this is where the fear came back. The sensation of the chute opening is unlike anything I have ever felt. Until then there was little sensation of falling – which is odd…
Once the chute opens you are rapidly decelerating from roughly 130 MPH to something a bit more sane. Why was it I began to feel ill at this point I wonder? Once the canopy was open I looked around and was overwhelmed by two things – how cool this was and motion sickness. I very adamantly requested, at the top of my lungs, “No big turns! I might throw up!”
This was met with a reassuring laugh and advice to simply take in the absolutely amazing views around us. And I mean amazing. To view the world from this vantage point is something I never thought I would experience and it was worth every brain cell I killed clawing my way through the fear!
Then it was time to land. Funny thing about a planet when you are hurtling towards it at 60 MPH – it looks very large, very hard and oddly enough quite uninviting.
I distinctly recall NOT WANTING TO LAND.
I also recall thinking that I am not the most flexible guy in the world – how was I gonna get my feet far enough up so we could skid along on our asses?
But it all turned out fine and the smile you see here is most definitely NOT a forced one. Of course I was shaking like milk – the adrenaline would not wear off for at least another 4 hours. I’m not kidding.
Was I happy I did it?
Oddly enough I wasn’t sure at the time. Cali has commented that it was hard to read my mood after we made it down. I have no doubt this was true – three days later I am still trying to parse the effect the experience has had on me. I have heard time and again what a life changing thing skydiving has been to people. How it opened up doors. How coming face to face with that much fear and exhilaration changed them. About how glad they were to have done it, even though they were terrified the whole time.
One thing I know for certain, this is the most incredible birthday gift I have ever received.
One that has, without a doubt, changed my life - I’m just not sure how yet.
Will I do it again?
I’m sorry Cali, I know this is not what you intended… but yes, I will be jumping again!
