We found a room to share at the local Quality Inn, which gives discounts to BASE jumpers, and paid for two weeks up-front. The hotel was perfect for jumping, it was a five-minute walk from the bridge, served coffee all day and would let us pack our rigs in the air conditioned hallway after each jump. I didn’t sleep a wink all night, lying there staring at the ceiling, going through the first jump over and over again in my head. The alarm didn’t have a chance to go off, as I was lying there awake and turned it off with a few minutes to go. It was time to get up. Elise got up with us as she wanted to be there for my first BASE jump, film it and ultimately see me survive it.
I consumed a plate of glorious powdered scrambled eggs and a few cups of coffee from the breakfast room before the three of us made the slow walk down the road in the early morning chill towards the bridge. There wasn’t a lot of talking taking place; I think we were all too nervous. The sun was beginning to show itself over the horizon as we arrived at a patch of grass next to the walkway leading out onto the bridge. The view was amazing in the first light of the day. Shadows were cast down from the cliff tops over the shimmering water, all bathed in a beautiful yellow glow of dawn. If I wasn’t about to jump off a bridge into this euphoric scene it would have been great to sit there with a coffee and take it all in.
We laid our rigs down on the patch of grass and Jimmy started taking me through the procedure of gearing up correctly. What I quickly learnt about BASE is that you have one shot to get it right so everything has to be done meticulously the first time. My first jump was going to be a PCA – pilot chute assist – which meant Jimmy would take control of my pilot chute and pull it out as I jumped. It is the safest way to do a first jump because it will open straight away, and if I did go head low on my exit instead of keeping my chest up, which is a big problem for beginner jumpers, the parachute would fully open before I was in a dangerous position. We went through the jump and landing pattern once more and then it was time to head out onto the bridge.
When I normally walk out onto a bridge it feels no different from walking down the street, however, knowing that in a few minutes I was going to be climbing over the rail and jumping off, the walk out took on a whole new feeling. My heart rate increased and my hands began to sweat. We arrived at the centre of the bridge and I was shown how to check the wind by spitting over the side and taking note of how it dropped and moved around at different heights. Jimmy ran through the entire jump one more time and then did a final body and gear check. He then said words I’ll never forget: ‘Okay buddy, when you’re ready, over you go.’
I don’t think I could ever have been really ready for climbing over that first time. I grabbed the rail with sweaty hands and slowly brought my leg over the top. I hugged the top, keeping my body low to the rail as I swung my other leg over, ending up in a position facing back towards the bridge and at Jimmy. Slowly I repositioned my feet and hands, turning my body around and I was now staring out at the canyon with a 150-metre drop below with nothing but sweaty hands death gripping the rail behind me for support. I extended my arms so that I was leaning out, away from the bridge, with my eyes fixated on the horizon. I said to Jimmy, ‘I’m ready to go.’ Jimmy had moved into position behind me holding my pilot chute and told me, ‘Okay mate, go ahead just like we practised.’
I took a deep breath, stared out at the horizon and told myself three things. Be grateful, you deserve this, thank you for allowing me to fly. I counted out loud, ‘Three, two, one, go!’, and I jumped. The sinking feeling deep in my stomach falling through dead air only lasted a split second before my big canopy exploded open above me and I was flying away from the bridge towards the landing area. The sense of relief was immediate but I didn’t have time to enjoy it, as I needed to take off some altitude and begin my landing. I made two figure-eight turns to bring my height down and once I was in the right position I brought it in to land, flaring perfectly and running out my landing. It was then I let out a yell back up to Elise and Jimmy, who now looked tiny on the bridge above. I watched as Jimmy wasted no time in climbing the rail himself and launched off. He had a nice opening and came to land next to me. We high fived, hugged and yelled back up to Elise together. The sense of relief was overwhelming for all of us. The first jump was out of the way, now it was time to perfect this skill and become a real BASE jumper.
That same day we completed two more jumps, for both of them Jimmy pulled out the pilot chute as I jumped but the following day it was time to go handheld. Handheld is when I have my pilot chute coiled into my hand and when I jump it’s up to me to pitch it correctly to enable the deployment of the parachute. Body position during exit is crucial, so we were doing a video debrief after each jump, and on my first jump it was easy to see me going head low, which according to Jimmy was normal for your first jump, but if I repeated that while going handheld I could get tangled in my pilot chute and it would be game over. Climbing over the rail with a hand full of pilot chute was more terrifying, but once in position looking out from the bridge, I felt in control. Three, two, one, go! I exited with a perfect body position, pitched after a one-second delay and brought it in to land nicely.
After every jump we had to repack our rigs, which for an experienced jumper normally takes between twenty and thirty minutes. For a beginner like me it was taking forty-five minutes to an hour. It’s a detailed process with countless stages that all have to be done perfectly. Missing a step could cause anything from a hard opening, off heading (parachute opens in the wrong direction) or a malfunction. With BASE rigs there is no reserve like in skydiving, you’ve got one chance to get it right, and for that reason I was taking as much time as I needed to pack. All the responsibility was back on me, and I was starting to love that about this sport. In normal life you can pass the blame for anything onto someone else, with BASE it’s your pack job, you picked the object, checked the weather and jumped it. It’s all on you.
The jumps were adding up quick and the course that Jimmy had put together was running perfectly. He broke things down military style and we would practise one thing over and over until we got it right, then move on. By the end of the first week I had done eighteen jumps, averaging three per day, usually in the morning before the afternoon wind made it too dangerous for a beginner like me to jump. Whenever the wind came up Elise was ready with an adventure for us, climbing one afternoon, kayaking the next and a cheeky CrossFit session at the local box (gym) was thrown in as well.
While we were jumping, plenty of other guys and girls were jumping as well. Some were on first jump courses like I was with local guys and some were there just staying current and having a blast throwing flips off the bridge. It was guaranteed that when we were jumping there was a hoard of Chinese tourists gathered around the view point taking photos of us; they absolutely loved it. On one jump, as Jimmy and I were about to walk out we were given a standing ovation from the tourists. They called us heroes and all wanted to take photos with us – it was ego boosting and hilarious. In Australia you would get arrested and your rig confiscated for jumping, here they called you a hero and cheered you on. God bless America!
By the start of the second week I had progressed onto stowed jumps, meaning that my pilot chute was now rolled up tight in a pouch at the bottom of my rig. This added an extra dimension to my jump. My arms were now free, which was great for climbing over the rail, however when I exited I had to reach behind myself while falling, grab the end of the pilot chute and pitch it out. My body position had to stay perfect, I couldn’t compromise it by starting to turn or tumble while falling, and there was always a fear that I’d fumble the pilot chute, causing a delay in my parachute opening. The first stowed jump was nerve-racking but after a few I settled down and it was amazing fun.
The worst malfunction to occur during the type of BASE jumping we were doing was an off heading. Ideally, after my parachute opens I am facing away from the bridge, cliff or whatever the object may be, and I fly away safe. The parachute, however, can open on many different ang
les, slightly left, slightly right or the absolute worst outcome is a 180 degree off heading, when the parachute will open facing straight back at the object. While jumping from a bridge this is no big deal as there is nothing to hit, on a cliff or building however this can be catastrophic. To handle an off heading scenario, Jimmy started to teach me object avoidance drills, which are a series of things to do in case of a 180 opening that when done fast enough will help you turn the canopy around without striking the object. These drills included turning the canopy on the risers, stalling the canopy to halt its forward movement and turning the canopy while stalled. Being proficient at these skills was crucial before we departed the bridge at Twin Falls and made our way to the cliffs in Moab.
It was our last day in Twin Falls, Jimmy was happy with my progression and we had made twenty-nine jumps together so far. There was one jump we still really wanted to do and it was called a bridge steel jump. The Perrine Bridge is constructed with massive steel arches and crisscrossing support sections with the very top of the arches accessible via a maintenance ladder from the bottom of the bridge. A jump that some of the local jumpers had done was to climb the access ladder and make their way to the very top of the arches underneath the road and jump through the steel into the canyon. This was what we wanted to do for our last jump in Twin Falls.
We all woke up early, Elise included, long before sunrise, and drove to the parking lot that was the start of the trail into the canyon. Elise was excited to come along and would take pictures and shoot some footage of us jumping. We made our way in the dark without headlamps, along the canyon trail paralleling the river to the enormous concrete foundations directly underneath the bridge. It was a short scramble from there to the start of the maintenance ladder where I repositioned my rig to the front of my body so I could climb the caged ladder effectively. The steel was freezing to touch and I had to stop every few minutes, shoving my hands into my pants to warm them up again. The ladder topped out on the huge arch beams and from there we walked the slope of the beam skyward, clinging onto the small safety rail for comfort.
The arch began to taper off as we neared the top and at its summit it was flat and stable. The beam itself was just over a foot wide and as the cars crossed the bridge above our heads the entire structure would vibrate, sending a shiver down my spine. It was time to gear up. We had been going for over an hour and the sun was just starting to show its orange glow on the horizon, illuminating the breathtaking view below us. I was ready for a handheld jump and I was going to jump first. I began to climb over the small handrail, crushing my manhood in the process, although I was too nervous to feel any pain. Once on the other side, with no more protection, I had to inch my way out onto a smaller beam to be directly in the middle of the bridge and the best area to clear all of the steel structure below me. My legs were shaking, I was terrible at slack lines and balance games and thought that at any second I was going to fall before getting the chance to jump.
After what felt like an eternity of mere seconds, I was in the middle facing a gap in the steel and ready to jump. Jimmy was completing the nut crushing rail climb as I was getting focused. Three, two, one, go! I stepped from the beam and plummeted through the steel, missing it by what felt like inches. Once clear of the structure I pitched my pilot chute and had a great on heading opening, facing towards a beautiful sunrise over the canyon. I landed safely on the grassed area and held in my burning desire to yell out with relief. I had just completed a jump that could be frowned upon by the authorities and I didn’t want to attract any judging eyes. Jimmy had a great exit as well and landed safely close by. I looked up at the bridge to see Elise making her way back down the walkway underneath the bridge to safety. What an amazing way to start the day.
Our time in Twin Falls had come to a close with an epic jump through the steel structure of the bridge. The first stage of training for BASE jumping was complete and it was now time for stage two, cliff jumping. America is famous for cliff jumping and attracts jumpers from all over the world to its beautiful red towers of stone. Moab is a small town in southern Utah that is commonly described as the Mecca for adventure sports. It has a lifetime of rock climbing to throw yourself at, starting from easy routes for beginners up to hard routes that only a handful of people can climb. Downhill mountain biking, off road ATV and 4x4 driving, skydiving, water sports galore and some of the most amazing BASE jumps around.
We drove all the way from Twin Falls to Moab, stopping off for a night in Salt Lake City. I’m a firm believer in the theory that the only way to see a place is by moving through it overland and we had the chance to see the beautiful landscapes changing by the hour as we drove through Idaho and Utah. The red dirt and rock of southern Utah let us know we were getting close to Moab and we bypassed town for the first night and went camping in a local canyon called Mineral Bottoms. It was a 50-kilometre drive down a dirt road that suddenly descends into an enormous canyon with a river flowing through it. The sheer rock walls on either side of the canyon, rising up to 125 metres in places, were intimidating and as we drove along the bottom of the canyon Jimmy gave me a description of the BASE jumps that seemed to be located on every overhanging face.
We made camp down inside the canyon in a red dirt basin surrounded by boulders, with the majestic cliffs towering on either side of us. We got a roaring fire going and settled back to eat some dehydrated food packs. As I was munching through a vegan black bean and rice ensemble Jimmy said to me, ‘Have a look up at that cliff mate.’ I gazed up at an intimidating overhung monster being bathed in the sun’s fading light and said in my most confident tone, ‘Looks beautiful bro.’ He replied, ‘That’s Sweet Spot and you’re jumping her in the morning.’ My heart skipped a beat, a wave of nervous energy washed over me followed by pure excitement. Staring up at Sweet Spot I thought to myself, this is what I had come to learn, this is what I had been watching in videos for years and tomorrow it’s all about to become a reality.
I spent a restless night going over the malfunction procedures in my head and before I could go over them for the one thousandth time I heard Jimmy moving around getting ready and knew it must be almost dawn. I pulled my boots on and poked my head out of the tent to a picturesque canyon scene, with daylight just starting to glow on the horizon. We all drove out to the top of the canyon and walked through the desert moonscape to the very edge of the cliff. Jimmy had done this jump many times before and lead us straight to the exit point that consisted of a flat slab of rock overhanging the main wall by a few metres. This was Sweet Spot and she was beautiful, the view was amazing and the conditions were looking perfect. Down in the bottom of the canyon were our tents, which I would hopefully be landing next to in a few minutes.
I laid down on my belly and poked my head over the edge of the exit point; this was by far one of the scariest things I’d done. Without my rig on I was leaning over the edge relying on body friction to prevent me from falling, nerves kicked in, and I felt afraid. However I needed to do it so I could spit over the exact point of exit and check wind conditions all the way down the face at different altitudes. The last thing we wanted was an unseen headwind down where our parachutes would be opening – that could be disastrous. I watched my spit fall straight down without movement to the base of the rock, proving perfect conditions. Time to gear up. As I pulled on my rig Elise was filming and Jimmy was going through the jump and flight plan back down to our camp. I was going to jump first so Jimmy could watch and then critique my body position. Once he had given me a final safety check he gave me the all clear and said, ‘Game on bro.’
I was standing three steps back from the edge with my pilot chute in my right hand repeating the words in my head as I stared out into the canyon. ‘Be grateful, you deserve this, thank you for allowing me to fly.’ I stared at the tiny spot on the edge where I’d place my last step on the run up, then made a mental note of a tiny spot on the horizon I’d focus on after leaving the cliff to help keep my body in a good position. Three, two, one, go! A
three-step run-up, strong push off the cliff and I was airborne. A short delay in free fall and I threw my pilot chute and in a split second my canopy opened and I was flying away from the cliff, losing my mind with excitement. The visual of the massive red rock cliff flying by bedside me was absolutely epic and I could hear Jimmy and Elise yelling in excitement from back above me. I made my flight down to the camp ground in thirty seconds and brought it in nicely into a soft, sandy river bed 50 metres away from my tent. I let out a scream of excitement, adrenaline, nerves and pure happiness. That was one of the best things I’d ever done and I couldn’t wait to get straight back up and do it again.
For the next three weeks we made Moab our home, camping in the beautiful canyons and occupying a tiny cabin at the local hostel called the Lazy Lizard as our main base. Jimmy and I would head out every morning if the weather was good and jump multiple exits with names like Tombstone, G-Spot, Parriott Mesa, Mary’s Gash and Echo. If the weather was average or the winds came up Elise and I would kayak, trek or climb one of the thousands of beautiful rock walls dotted throughout the area. This place really was an adult playground. While out in an area called Castle Valley where Jimmy and I jumped a huge beast of a cliff called Parriott Mesa, Elise and I were awestruck by a tower of rock rising up from the valley floor that stood apart from the rest with its sheer walls and prominence. Its name was Castleton Tower and immediately after seeing it Elise and I wanted to climb the tower, and as I was now a BASE jumper, I thought I should at least try and jump it as well.
One Life One Chance Page 29