To be clear, it was my idea
June 2024: Interlaken, Switzerland
I could probably write a novel (or at least a little novella) on all of the things I do that make it painfully obvious how white I am, and this one is up there. It didn’t even cross my mind that skydiving might also fall into that category until my friend Alaina said, “that is some white people shit,” at which point my eyes really opened to the sheer stupidity of the thing. I mean you literally jump… out of a plane… on purpose….. That is, objectively speaking, really dumb (but also kind of awesome… see? That’s my problem). And anyway, by then it was too late. I had pushed for it, peer pressured bestie for it, and it was happening.
Not only was it happening, but I was excited! I think skydiving is just one of those things that you have to put on your life bucket list, like skinny dipping or seeing the Northern Lights or having pasta in Italy or watching the Eiffel Tower sparkle at night. I’m sure plenty of people could do without all of those things, actually, but I’m not one of them, so it’s always been on my list.
I maintained this excitement until the few days leading up to the actual diving out of sky. Along the way, we said to all of our fellow European summer travelers “oh and guess what! We’re going skydiving when we get to Switzerland!” We told everyone at home we had a “cool surprise” waiting for mid-June, like we were celebrities withholding information until just the right moment or influencers that had just dyed our hair. “Want to know more? Stay tuned” type vibes. But when we actually got to Switzerland?
My vibe changed. Reality sunk in. I was now in a scenario in which I could potentially die. That week. Was this dramatic? Considering the statistics (fatalities occur in less than 1 of every 100,000 cases), yes, it was quite dramatic. But anything is possible, and when you have anxiety, anything bad seems extra possible.
During those first few days in Switzerland before that fateful day, my anxiety was a ball coiled in my chest, growing bigger and bigger until I couldn’t ignore it. I felt physically sick, like motion sickness, car-sickness, seasickness… You get the point, I’m sure. I had all the sicknesses. I was feeling a culmination, and I was not liking the feeling.
The night before–the skydiving eve–was the worst for me. Morgan and Makenzie, my cool, calm, and collected travel buddies, were telling people we were skydiving in the morning in the tone one discusses the weather or a to-do list. They were casual, almost indifferent, while I was gagging in the background. I really laid down in my hostel bed that night, drama to the max, and thought to myself that that might be my last time sleeping in a bed in this lifetime.
A different type of morning sickness
The morning of was no better. I had scrambled eggs for breakfast. In hindsight, why would I do that? I still don’t know. On the walk from breakfast to the activity center, I thought about those damn eggs (and my impending doom) the whole way and wondered if I’d be throwing them back up within a couple hours’ time, or dead.
Anyway, getting back on track… we booked this excursion through Outdoor Interlaken Day Tours because it was very highly rated and directly next door to the most perfectest, magicalest hostel of all time, <3 Balmer’s <3, which deserves its own post. We checked in while I contemplated mortality and the purpose of life, and were then greeted by the most perfectest, magicalest driver of all time, <3 Gavin <3.
One thing I’ll say about Morgan… she has this ability to make people feel comfortable that I just don’t. I love this about her. Morgan walks into a room and suddenly there are a million things to talk about, a million questions to be asked and a million answers to be given. The vibe lifts. She doesn’t take life too seriously, and it’s contagious. I watched this phenomenon take place for about the thousandth time with Gavin as we drove from the activity center to the field we would maybe die in. She and I piled into the front of that car–it had a front bench seat, which is one of those things I irrationally love for reasons I can’t even begin to explain, like watching animals chew or getting in fresh sheets with shaved legs–and the three of us were like three little peas in a pod up there. Morgan had his life story spilled within the first ten minutes, and she was inviting herself to temporarily move into his house on the drive back (because yes, spoiler alert… we all survived).
The lightheartedness and laughter during that drive was my saving grace. I finally calmed down enough that I was no longer worried about bringing those scrambled eggs back up. We jumped out of Gavin’s car and I headed into the hangar with a grim determination (and maybe even regained the tiniest bit of excitement, too).
The pre-diving in the sky
If you’re contemplating skydiving and looking for a determining factor, let it be the outfits! Outdoor Interlaken has the outfit situation on lock. I was comforted with the knowledge that if I did perish in an hour’s time, at least I would have a cool jumpsuit on. We hopped into those things and I took a moment to appreciate my wonderful friends and the weeks we had spent together, the once-in-a-lifetime trip we weren’t even halfway through. If today was to be the end, at least I could be grateful for everything that led up to it, right down to how sporty we looked with our red and black zip-ups and hair pulled back. After a brief demonstration, a highly necessary rundown on the process, and a pairing with the person who would be strapped to our back as we leapt out of a plane, we were off.
Now for the actual diving in the sky
I got paired with the sweetest, calmest Australian man, who I think was named <3 Robin <3. At this point, as we’re walking from the hangar to the plane, I’m beginning to revert back to my typical anxious ways. Beside me, Robin’s asking questions, making lighthearted jokes, and recording me, as is necessary for the $200 photo and video package that we tacked onto this already monumentally expensive excursion. I would later come to regret this addition, but we’ll get there.
As it was, I was once again experiencing the symptoms of someone who is terrified of public speaking and waiting backstage to publicly speak. My throat was dry, my hands were clammy, I had forgotten the ways of speech, and I had to smile and answer questions for this video? The consequences of my own actions? Lovely.
We all began clambering into a tiny, single-engine plane, something akin to a Cessna 182. Robin asked me what order I wanted to sit in, and in a manner that was telling of my mental state, I volunteered to go first. I wanted this nonsense over with. However, I was not clear about what I wanted to do first, so we got onto the plane first. Getting on the plane first meant I would skydive last, and the fact that I unintentionally signed myself up for the opposite of what I wanted was also telling of my mental state.
Then the ascent began. In hindsight, it was relatively quick, but it seemed to drag on and on in the moment. All of the instructors were recording back and forth between us and the view outside of the plane windows on tiny handheld cameras, so I was alternating between smiling and waving for the camera and trying to breathe like a normal human being.
Before I knew it, it was happening, and Morgan was going first. We later joked that we were relatively blunt for three people who were doing something so dangerous, because as Morgan and her instructor inched towards the door of this plane, which was ajar, we simply waved to each other and yelled “bye, love you!” as if we were parting from a lunch. We had learned how to position ourselves for the jump back in the hangar during the demo, and I watched Morgan and her instructor getting set up. She had her legs dangling outside of the plane, resting on its underside, and her head tilted back against his shoulder and facing upwards. One second they were there, getting into place, and the next… they disappeared. I have never seen something drop out of my sight that fast before.
And I… I’m pretty sure I screamed bloody murder, but I’m a little fuzzy on the details. I don’t even remember Makenzie’s jump. I was so paralyzed with fear that the only thing playing in my mind was the visual of Morgan and her instructor dropping out of that plane, over and over again. Not that I had too long to replay it, because within a minute, it was my turn.
I mimicked the motions we had practiced below, placing my feet down on the underside of the plane and leaning against Robin (how romantic). All I could do was focus on staying locked in that position, and a few heartbeats later, the white of the plane turned into the blue of the sky, and we were plummeting down from 13,000 feet in the air.
It was like the highest drop off of a rollercoaster times a thousand. The mountains below me looked like tiny little figurines, and there were clouds both at our eye-level and down, down, down. Air was whistling in my ears and stinging my face, drying out my mouth within seconds. My cheeks… Well, I could feel the force of the drop pulling my skin. The footage later proved that this was not only occurring, but it was occurring even worse than I imagined. The video was… humbling, to say the least.
We were hurtling through the sky back towards the earth, and it felt like it, yet it also… didn’t? It was much more peaceful than I anticipated. The air seemed to cushion us somehow, so that it felt more like we were flying.
Before I knew it, the parachute was deploying, and I was being given the most intense wedgie of my entire life. I yelled “thank god it deployed,” which sadly there is video evidence of as well.
Then the fun part began. We floated down the rest of the way, taking in the Swiss Alps, rivers, forests, and greenery that spread for miles and miles around us. Switzerland is beautiful from the ground, and now I can confirm that it’s just as breathtaking, if not more so, from above. I felt like Glinda gliding through the air in a bubble, and Robin let me steer because again, he’s the sweetest, calmest Australian man. We slid onto the field where we had just been waiting about a half-hour prior, the parachute rippling in the air above us like a magical, life-saving carpet. It was a full-circle journey, thirty minutes from beginning to end, and yet everything had changed in that time.
A check off the bucket list
So… I did it. I went skydiving, and I lived to tell the tale, albeit in an overly dramatic manner. It was terrifying, and exhilarating, and unbelievable, and amazing. The best part? Despite going on and on for these last few pages about how afraid I was… I’d do it again.