Greetings, Habs. Remember that 60th birthday skydive  I did back in March? Well, life hasn't really been the same since. I have jumped three more times since then and don't think about much else except when the next jump will be. Now, please don't think your sister/aunt/great aunt/friend has gone off her rocker. I don't THINK I have. But that freefall adrenalin rush is difficult to ignore.
I've taken this very slowly and have read everything I could get my hands on about the sport. All four jumps so far have been tandem jumps; i.e. with an instructor. On each jump, though, I've learnt a little more . . . how to make 360-degree turns, how to track, how to control the canopy (yep, you don't call it a parachute), etc. Then last Friday night I went to a four-hour ground school and learnt a whole lot more.
So what's next? My first solo jump! On Thursday morning. HELP! I'll be doing something called AFF (Accelerated Free Fall). Jump at 14,000 feet with an instructor holding on to me to keep me stable. Pull at 5,000 feet, at which time the instructor flies away . HELP! Then I'm on my own to find my way back to the dropzone and land without breaking my ankles. My heart is thumping just typing this.
So there you have it. I'll let you know how it went.