BASE stories needed

[K]

Spring has sprung and with it I have sprouted spring fever. Sitting in the office is quite difficult at this time of year, especially in the light of my persistent and long term non-jumping. If I could go flick Roubidoux a couple of times a week and skydive on Friday afternoons I'd be quite happy, but until my leg is healed I'm still grounded, wistfully watching the beautiful weather outside and the pretty parachutes over Perris. At night I dream of jumping, both BASE and sky. I am going to the Perrine for Memorial Weekend to do a FLiK demo, and expect I'll do my first jumps there into the river. Until then, I continue to live vicariously through all of you.

Peace,
K
BASE#763

[TwoPly]

It's a beautiful night, the moon's shining and the sky is clear. Peaceful. I have to hike about a half hour through the woods to my favorite tower from where I park my vehicle. Being really, really stealthy I climb the barb wire, walk very lightly across the gravel to the backside of the building to gear up. The winds are looking very good. Absolute heaven. Totally alone, I check and recheck gear, peak around the corner of the building to check for that possible random freak out walking the night, and glide over to the base of the tower, the entire time doing the 'Mission Impossible' song in my mind. I perfectly levitate up the structure to the ladder and make it up about 20 feet when the most blood curdling, terrifying, horrible scream comes from some f***ing creature about 20 yards behind me. I'm talking the kind that scares the #### out of you and makes you question if you've soiled your breifs. Every single hair on my skin is standing and I can hear my heart beating throughout my body. I hear another shreik a few seconds later and think maybe I tripped some new alarm until I hear a similar howl in the distance. After I made sure I did not, in fact, mess myself, I realized it must be a coyote comunnicating. I thought for a second that it must be a sign of some sort, but I could hear innocent laughter in my head and I say to my own private gods "Good one, heh."

I never did actually see the whatever-the-hell it was but I think to myself, Base is my juice. No matter what shape it comes in, nervousness, anticipation, or the unbelievable feeling of accomplishment.

[TwoPly]

No message

[K]

Thanks very much! I'm glad you didn't fall off the ladder in fright! So how was the jump?

K

[Nick_D]

Always willing to help a fellow (plaster) cast member.

Some ask what’s the big deal about three seconds of stolen altitude without realizing the jump actually starts the minute the phone rings and the plan is hatched. Packing on the living room floor already has you standing on the edge because everything you do now counts in spades later.

I’m standing on the top of Emerald Shapery Towers looking 400 feet down into the dark street so far below, and yet so close, it’s inviting but repelling. Simon P. Jakeman is giggling and repeating, “I love it, I hate it, I love it, I hate it . . .”

Leaning on the steel safety cable (they should really call these danger cables) I try to lock in a flight plan. The problem with building jumps is there’s so much stuff down there that can hurt you. You can’t just cream in anywhere hoping to avoid anything sharp and hard.
I hear Jakey saying softly, “It’s the Big Gulp.”

Optimistically, I ran the flight plan all the way through to which way I was going to run for the car. One of the guards had heard, but not seen us, during our initial penetration, but I knew the next weird sound he heard would bring him running.

Another flight into a magic night leaves me skimming B Street with glee and wonder how it’s even possible we do these sorts of things but here comes the guard and he hits me with all twelve volts of his flashlight as I’m pulling my canopy out of the air.

(Visions of Moe in Los Angeles where a guard had him by the pilot chute and before the tug of war got the better of him, Moe cutaway.)

I yelled, “Look!” as another canopy opened above head and as he looked up, and I took my exit.

I’ve always thought, even though every BASE jump is made up of many different things, that part in the car when you’re driving away and popping a beer, looking for cops, staring wide eyed into each other eyes is the best.

Get back in the sky soon girl, I’m running out of stories . . .

Nick
BASE 194

[JJ]

Jumped a 300 meter tower from 120 meters last night with my new found friend Raist... Really boring jump - darkness, no accidents, no incidents or anything interesting...Feeling really uncurrent - hadn't jumped in 3+ weeks and realized right before watching Raist jump off that I was possibly going to be witness to his last moments...this little slice of time in the huge clock of eternal existence...how precious they were with his intense stare off into the bliss and the half moon shining through the clouds - he jumped...but all was good and then it was my turn..."everything seems to be in order...ahh well...phuck it!" - launch off, pull, waiting ,waiting, waiting for my canopy to explode out of the container - hopefuly in a manageable direction... Turned out to be dead nuts on heading! Tip toe landing on my trusty FLIK. The BASE jumping life adds excitement to an otherwise mostly boring existence... the main reason to continue jumping.

Keep on FLIKin'

JJ

666 is next...
}(

[d-dog]

While you guys were out having fun, Phil and I were stuck in the office working. Ok, well actually Phil was watching TeeVee but is that a big surprise? :P Sheila stopped by to say hello, as well!

Glad the jump went well - we'll get the Ghettos this weekend, ok?

Peace,

D-d0g

[base704]

Nick...
Count me in for the "autographed copy" list please :7
...when available of course :D

-El Victimus Maximus
aka:base704

[K]

THANKS NICK! THANKS JJ! THANKS TWOPLY! D-Dog, you failed me!

Keep 'em comin' guys, I'm feeling better already!

Peace,
K

[imported_Mac]

Last night I made my first “pure” solo jump. It was the situation that the weather had been #### for a month some people were away others had written off the night as a no-go and as I stood looking out of the kitchen window doing the washing up I noticed that the night was still – not how it was forecast. It was 1am and there is no way that my jumping partner is going to do a 5 hour round journey. I grabbed my kit and off I went into the night. The 1 hour drive to the object I was questioning all the possible risks involved in going solo. Maybe I was even trying to talk myself out of it. I arrived at the parking spot grabbed my gear – locked the car and lit a cigarette – I took a walk to the object and although normally a light breeze at ground level it was still. It was a perfect jumping night and I was alone at 2am with only the stars and object as company. I accessed the object and started my ascent. I had some time for some very interesting introspection. I am but still a baby in this sport – but if ever there is a time where the confirmation happens that you are doing this only for yourself – this was it!

On top I took some time to take in the view – this is my time and there is no one else around to have any influence on this – its purely you. I kit up and take some time to feel good. I know people think soloing is a bad thing – but I know the risks and I had accepted them. I climb onto the exit and look around at the view and feel. I jump – I feel alive – I land – I gather up and make my way to the car I cant get rid of the smile on my face!


Jumping with friends is great, – but I have just found that solos are more personal.

as a note - i know the dangers and the risks involved - which is why i will not be doing them (that much! )
:7

[Faber]

one of the sad ones(at least for me)

Wedensday i needed a trip to hospital,while my external fixator had a lose screw.They removed it all,whith nothing to kill my pain.ive got a "moonboot"to fix the leg the next 3weeks.then ill need another tjek,were they will find out if they want to do another surgery(to get a nail inside the bone).If im okay ill hook up whith you K in Norway if not..well then i gues ill be damn good to drink beers this summer
:o

[K]

Hey Faber...

Sorry to hear about your metal drama. I'm waiting to get the screws out of my knee so the fibula bone will compress enough that it can finally bridge. My tibia is doing great, but the fibula is still in 2 pieces. My dr. says I won't be up to the hike in Norway, but I don't think he knows who and what he's dealing with...so hopefully we'll catch up there. And as you say, if I can't jump I'll be a great beer drinking buddy.

Mac! Cool story! I've often wondered what a night solo off my local E would be like...or even a day solo. I'm lucky enough to be surrounded by tons of great BASE jumpers, so there's always someone that wants on the load, but one of these days I'll be doin' the Doux alone. I'll make sure I'm current first, however.

I stopped by the dz yesterday just to see the lay of the land. I spoke with a couple of my BASE buddies and was glad to touch bases with them...pun not intended. It looks like the Memorial Day Boogie at Twin Falls will have some of my favorite freaks in attendance! Yahooo!!!!

The screws come out of my knee in early May. Here's hoping I'm recuperated enough from that little adventure to jump into the Snake River from a 486' exit point! :)

Thanks again everyone. It's nice to feel it even if I can't do it.

Peace,
K

PS: D-Dog...what's up?

[TwoPly]

I just got back from a nice 5 sec delay off the tower where the coyote/ wolf was screaming and scaring the hell out of me. Well, Mr. Coyote and I made acquaintances again this morning except face to face this time. I was walking across the same field to the tower when I could see and hear an image trotting in my direction. About 15 yards from me Mr. Coyote/wolf thing stopped, looked at me then ran behind me perhaps to get downwind of me, then circles back around in front as I kept walking forward. He circles around and goes downwind again and then circle in front of me another time. I finally stopped and realized I had no stick or defense item so I raised my arms and tried to make myself look bigger. He didn't recoil at all, he just stared at me. I tried to spook him by growling as mean as I could in what I thought was a pretty midevil sound. In hind-sight this seemed stupid because he let loose with this howl that could only be described as evil. It was so loud I almost froze realizing I'm way the hell out of my league when it comes to vocal intimidation. I began walking towards that beautiful barbwire fence that I usually hate, but now seeing it in a new light. I made sure not to run or appear scared but I'm not sure how well I stopped any flatulence. That Human-Eater, as I now was referring to him, followed me all the way to the fence about 10 yards behind me. I'm thinking to myself, I'm gonna be bad breath on a wolf. I remember doing a Jackie Chan-twelve foot backflip in the air over the fence and sticking the landing. Do a happy dance...

After a healthy climb to 920 feet and a heavy 4 sec delay, I landed fine. And as I'm walking back to my hidden chariot what do I see? That freaking thing following me almost all the way back to my vehicle.

Well if he did try to eat me, I would have had the last laugh. I haven't showered since Friday.

Mike

[3ringheathen]

My first solo was fun, but makes a poor story. Hopefully, this one’s worth reading about. My cliff of choice for my second solo is a doozy. It takes about four hours of fairly tough scrambling to get to the exit point. Plenty of time to reflect on what I'm doing and why in the world I'm doing it.
One of the reasons I like base is that it juxtaposes serenity and insanity in one glorious activity that spurs tons of introspection. Each jump is both brief and timeless. Intense and sublime.

The introspection begins well before hand, but it really starts to ramp up as I solidify my plan and make preparations. Just packing for some jumps is a mystical experience. Double check the weather reports and satellite images, gather food, water, basic firstaid, and other essentials. I’ll need to jump with everything I take up, yet still be prepared to spend the night on the mountain.

On the way to the trail head, I call my friend Scott to let him know what I'm up to and when he should start worrying if he doesn't hear from me.
Scott did ground crew when we opened this cliff, and as it turns out he thinks he can get off work a bit early and make it out there by the time I jump. We decide that 5:00 is a good target time for exit.

The first part of the hike is the hardest. There's no trail for most of it. Much of it's nearly vertical, with some dense vegetation and slippery rocks throughout.

Hardly anyone besides our base crew goes up here, so when I see a trail I began following it, thinking it leads to the ridgeline.
After about 45 minutes I realize the "trail" I've been following is actually the tell tale signs of our last failed expedition:
We'd gotten weathered out at the last minute, and had to hike down in the dark. The final 1000' or so back to the trail head, we were basically completely blind, cautiously sliding down on our asses. Arms extended, eyes closed to prevent getting branches or thorns in them, and groping for something to hold onto, lest someone slide over a cliff band and break a leg. Hiking down the final stretch last time had been a bit like an extraordinarily long base jump: i.e. treacherous enough that you’re too busy working the problems to really be scared. It was like a surreal case of temporal distortion.

Anyway, as I look up at where we'd come down that night, I can't believe we'd done it without getting hurt or seriously killed. I decide that I probably can't make it up that way and am forced to double back a bit to get back on the real trail. It ends up taking me an extra 40 minutes to get to the top of the first ridge.

I don't know if it's adrenaline from the idea of doing a solo, or just that the smaller the group, the less likely it is that someone slows you down, but in spite of my inauspicious start, I manage to shave over an hour off of previous hiking times! I was even able to take a luxury break and sunbath on a big warm rock before the final ascent up the rockslide on the backside of the cliff.

I reach the staging area an hour early. It’s about 50 yards from the exit point, any closer and you can’t afford to relax. After setting my gear down and having a snack, I carefully work my way over to the exit point.

It's a short, steep slope with a small bit of vegation covered flat rock that's just big enough to stand on at the edge of it. It overlooks a lake with gorgeous views of the cascades and puget sound in the distance.
It's late summer and the west end of the lake bed is finally dry. I'll be landing there. Last time half of us took water landings, the other half opted for a sketchy but dry landing amongst the drift wood and boulders.

I've got some time to kill before Scott gets there, so I spend a fair amount of time chucking rocks from the exit point. Next I go back to the safety of the staging area and kick back and enjoy the view. It's not quite sunset, but the sky is starting to get a mystical orange glow. If it weren't for the occasional passing of a small plane through the valley, I could very easily imagine that it was 1000 years ago. Time just doesn't have the same significance up here.

Still no sign of Scott and the wind hints that it's picking up, so I decide not to wait for him. He's already a bit late anyway, besides, I wasn't planning on having ground crew in the first place. It turns out to be a good decision, as Scott turns out to be a no-show.

Strangely, after an hour killing time at the top, I find myself extremely relaxed. It turns out that I’m a bit too relaxed. As I squat down to get a good launch, I'm zenned out to a fault and launch too slowly, pivoting forward more and pushing out less than I should. I’m slowly rotating forward as I begin my plummet into the valley.
I can tell that if I just try to arch out of it, I'll still be in a head down position when I have to pitch.
I curl up, pull my knees to my chest, tuck my arms in, and complete a fairly nice, albeit unplanned front flip. I'm not nearly as far from the wall as I'd like to be, the ledge is taunting me and my body is torqued right side low. I grab my pilot chute firmly, while trying to square my shoulders up as I watch the ledge come up to meet me.

Big Ass Ledge? Close enough.
Wall? Too close!
Body position? Close enough - pitch!
A nice, nearly perfect opening. Far better than I deserved on that one.

I release my brakes, look over my shoulder at the wall, and down at the ledge not too far below me.

Amazing.

"That was really stupid, and I'm really lucky, but GOD DAMN that was cool!" I scream.
Under canopy, there's no wind, the view is indescribable, and now that I've cleared the ledge, I've got a few minutes of leisurely canopy flight as I descend into the valley for a tiptoe landing in a slightly damp lakebed.
Life is beautiful.
-Josh

;)

[346]

"One of the reasons I like BASE is that it juxtaposes serenity and insanity in one glorious activity that spurs tons of introspection."

I had to write that one down..

Good story!

Mark