Part 3: Into thin air
“Cheryl, you come home right now,” my mom yelled, but this time it wasn’t because supper was getting cold.
Like most kids, I often had to be called to the table for dinner. But this time I was three kilometers in the air, staring at the ground, which was slightly obscured by a fluffy cloud.
My hands were curled tightly around the edges of the plane’s doorway, but a tap on my shoulder reminded me I had to let go. I moved my death grip to the front of my suit, but managed to release a few fingers long enough to wave at a camera pointed in my direction.
My helmet and goggles were in place, and I was securely attached to Mile High Parachuting tandem instructor Jeff Dean.
“Right!” he shouted in my ear over the roar of the Cessna’s engine.
I placed my right foot onto a step on the wing strut.
My left knee went over the edge of the plane and I sat back on my heel.
Allan “Turtle” Lancaster, the Mile High photographer and videographer, was hanging onto the edge of the wing support, waiting patiently.
“Ready – set – go!”
I didn’t quite reach the ready stage when we were going. I had time to take a breath and then I was falling into nothing.
Read the rest of the story here.
Here’s a video I made of photos and clips, courtesy of Mile High Parachuting and my co-workers who came to watch and document the experience for me. Enjoy!