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The most fabulous day


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Today was a fabulous day. I jumped 8 times with Steve and Tristan (second and last from the left), with Mark joining for the last four on his recovering ankle: I never thought I would witness one airline pilot rodeo riding another in freefall: it was vastly amusing, taken in the right spirit. We flew a head-down three-way formation, a ridiculous conga, throwing people all over the sky, a four-way head-down jump and several permutations of freefly. There’s nothing like […]

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Freefly!


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First jump in shorts and T-shirt today: it feels much more real somehow. Naked next?

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A record day


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Seven jumps today; a new personal record. The seventh took me to exactly one logged hour of freefall. Ten a day remains elusive: we usually lose a couple of hours to wind, or find ourselves waiting for enough people to make a load Had to take Mark to the hospital – his ankle isn’t broken… – which provided a pleasant drive to Toledo:

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Three good formation jumps this morning


First, linked 360’s, then sidebodies on two jumps. Pulled early on the second jump – 4500 feet – and played with the canopy. Great fun, followed by a perfect landing. Third jump, flared gently, maintaining speed, and completely failed to run it out. Achieved a full length, high speed plant. Sadly we don’t have a picture of “the mudman”.

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And another two in the evening.


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Finished off with a party. Sunset, aeroplanes, bikes, bar, barbecue and, of course, a Humvee-mounted DJ. Someone’s got to do it.

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Spanish national canopy piloting championships


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Here’s a great idea: let’s see who can go fastest just before contact with the ground. Brilliant spectacle: quite a few injuries. There’s accuracy and so on too, but swooping is the Real Man’s sport. Some of the ladies appear to be Real Men too. The Spanish air force arranged a proper plane. A CASA of some sort:

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Three two-ways in the morning


Mark and I banged out three two-way jumps this morning. Great fun in beautiful weather. Pictures later. We just acquired a weight belt for Mark: if I arch, I disappear. There’s a man here whose shaven head looks like a freshly-whacked boiled egg. When the clip on my helmet strap broke, it was easy to say “no” to jumping helmetless.

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