Breezes in trees,
Footsteps on quiet pre-dawn pavement.
Lone tower ahead,
Red lights flashing silently.
Open the gate, time to gear up.
Butterflies in the stomach.
Leg straps, chest strap, three rings OK.
Double check the bridle routing.
Clip in and start climbing,
try to make the bottom light in the first pitch.
Almost made it, forearms dead, lungs burning.
Wind in my ears as I take a breather in the red glow.
Looking over my shoulder, there's light on the horizon,
Gotta keep chugging.
Last rest stop, take a drink, unclip, toss a WDI.
Wind whistling, landscape illuminated gray,
Enjoy the view.
Pulling myself up to the beacon,
Keep three points of contact.
Turn around and face the pink horizon,
Tower swaying below my feet.
Leaning against the obstruction light for balance during the final gear check.
Pilot chute, bridle, shrivel flap mating,
Cutaway cables and harness connections.
Decision time. Is this fear or anticipation?
Go through the motions, chest at the horizon,
Count, touch the PC, love the PC.
Blow by the last chance to turn back without a thought.
If I wait for my leg to stop shaking, I'll be here all day.
Stand up. Look down just to take it in.
Head up, slowly coil,
Lean out past the point of no return, and launch.
Holy Sh1t! That dish is close!
Pitching down, acceleration,
Steel rushing past my feet,
reach-and-pull.
The longest two seconds in the universe.
Bang! On heading, running with the wind.
Pop the toggles, stab a one-eighty.
Here we go... Flare,
Touch down.
A lucid moment of peace having survived.
Escape and Evade.
Savor the drive home.