Voices: I fell for sky diving, its chills and thrills
FREDERICKSBURG, Va. — Be honest: How bad was my first — and likely only — stab at skydiving?
I ask this of Army Sgt. 1st Class Noah Watts, knowing he's too polite, professional and politic to spout the unvarnished version. Besides we're on the ground now, safely, thanks to his 1,000-something successful tandem jump with me as carry-on baggage.
Pressed, Watts allows that I forgot to arch my back enough and didn't flip my legs between his after we fell from 13,500 feet. That's really high, by the way.
"So I went fetal?"
Watts paused. "Not exactly."
Let the record show — and the video backs it up, your honor — that I didn't go full fetal and cry for my mom, God rest her soul.
Really, it was more instinct and excitement. Plus, every lesson Sgt. 1st Class Joe Jones of the Army's Golden Knights parachute team taught pre-jump buzzed in my right ear and out the left.
Show a lab a tennis ball, and it becomes her sole focus. Show me a plane and a skydiving video. "Jump from plane! Jump from plane! Jump from plane!" thinks me to the exclusion of all else.
Some briefing points sunk in: "serious injury" and "death." Falling at 120 mph registers, as does Jones telling us not to fib about our weight.
"I'm tossing you out of an airplane," Jones said. "Be honest."
OK, then, 5-11, 178, for those keeping score. I'm 52 and have been married happily to Kathy for 20 years. She tolerates but doesn't condone this stunt. Anything else?
Good! Jump from plane! Jump from plane!
I didn't feel nervous. Not pulling on the yellow jumpsuit and harness. It helps that Jones and Watts are handpicked for their people and parachute skills. The guys are walking, talking Army commercials: fit and friendly, competent and confident but not brash.
Let's face it, this is a public relations maneuver for the Army. Pentagon reporters such as me and my colleague Kristina Wong from The Hill, a Capitol Hill newspaper, see the Army that we write about in a different light. Hollywood A-listers such as Bill Murray have jumped with the Golden Knights, too, and adorn promotional materials.
Ask Watts the biggest celebrity he's taken jumping. "My mom," he replies.
That's the guy I want pulling the cord!
Back to the nerves. Felt fine climbing on the plane.Then the pleasant morning chilled as we climbed and the trees lost their individual shape and became blobs of green and gold. Is that the Chesapeake Bay? Oooh. This is high.
The plastic door slid open, and we skittered across the floor and perched on the abyss. Too late now. Only one of 1,000 have backed out on Watts at this point. Can't be the person who makes it two.
One, two, three, AIEEEEEE!
OK. So I didn't rock and arch and flip as well as I should have. It's loud. It's exhilarating. It's impossible not to be giggling and terrified as the air rushes into your mouth and inflates your cheeks, chipmunk-style.
Then, pop! The chute opens, the straps tighten and we dangle. It's quiet. Watts helpfully reminds me to breathe. He notes the wind is blowing about 25 mph, as he steers the parachute and hits his landing spot.
Stand up, he suggests, and my feet are back on the ground. I won't stop smiling all day.
Vanden Brook has covered the Pentagon for USA TODAY since 2006.