Ground’s the Limit

“And I’m free. Free fallin’” -Tom Petty

I am in an airplane flying over the majestic Swiss Alps. I came here, to a small town called Interlocken (between the lakes) for one thing. It is simply gorgeous, snow capped mountains surrounded by crystal blue lakes as far as the eye can see. And it can see all from this height, miles and miles of picturesque landscape, like one giant postcard. And this is the perfect day, not just because of the date but the weather is clear, sunny. They tell me it is the first weekend in months that is has not been raining. But even in the midst of a place and a view such as this, it would be an outright lie to say that’s all I am thinking about. The other passengers on the plane are serenading me with ‘Happy Birthday’, a very personable bunch. But moreover, there is a man named Mick strapped to my back, and suddenly, the door of the plane has opened. Miles and miles and miles, and the door is open.
“ARE YOU READY?” Mick shouts.
“NO”, but I’ve already begun to assume the position: head back, legs back, arch.
Then nothing. Then sky, then green, sky, mountain, is that a house? sky, my hands, my feet, are my shoes going to stay on? close your mouth Blair, let go of your shoulder straps and open your arms, you’re flying. The wind is roaring, but I don’t hear it. The only word on my lips is wow, but it doesn’t get any further than that, my monosyllabic capacities have ceased to function, I didn’t even scream. I promised myself I would keep my eyes open; more than anything else–thinking about all the ‘what if’s and ‘what am I doing’s–just repeating to myself , if you’re gonna jump, make sure your damn eyes are open. And they were. It’s strange, it’s not how I imagined unmitigated falling would feel, there’s a very strong force from beneath, almost like you aren’t falling at all, but should be going upward. Combined with the undeniable gravitational pull, it’s almost as if you’re suspended in mid air. It’s hard to breathe at first, but only because you forget to do so. Then there is a violent tug, and you slow down, knowing the parachute has been deployed. Somehow though, this part frightened me more than the free fall, maybe because I had time to think. I must have asked poor Mick 7 times to make sure I stayed attached, don’t drop me. He just laughs, sings some more Happy Birthday; he’ll be doing this nine more times just today, all of them just as squeamish as me, same stupid jokes, nervous laughter.
“Wanna spin?” he asks.
“Well–” and we’re spinning. I get dizzy pretty easily. I tell him this.
“Look up at the chute” he coaches, “you won’t get dizzy.” Spin, spin.
“No, really. I’m getting kind of nauseous.” So he quits and we just glide for a while. It’s surprisingly peaceful, plummeting towards the earth. It is as if there is a layer of atmosphere below us that keeps all the sounds of the world in, like our daily lives take place in a cacophonous music box, and for this moment, I’ve stepped out, closed the lid. Then it’s over, lift your legs, skid onto the landing field. Give Mick a high five and thank him for saving your life. Then quickly sit down, deep breaths, have a Coke so you don’t pass out or throw up. (I did neither).

This certainly gives caving a run for its money.

P.S. I’d like to give a quick thank you for all the birthday wishes. I bought myself a rockin’ Swiss Army knife, and tonight I’m taking myself out to dinner, fondue maybe. Mmm. Also, I would like everyone to know that gmail hates me, and I have had several complaints of emails not received. Therefore, if you have written me at any time BEFORE October 1st and have not received a reply, it’s not because I didn’t write back. Please please please let me know and I’ll take care of it. As a general rule, if 2 weeks goes by and I haven’t responded to an email, it is because I did respond, but Gmail wasn’t listening. The time between Oct 1 and now, computers have been scarce, so any emails sent in this time will be answered in the next few days when I get to Milan. Cheers.