After 50 seconds, the parachute indeed opened. I gasped for air and thanked Dave profusely for not killing me. He, again, leaned in and stated, “We haven’t landed yet.” It was true. But I giggled, high from adrenaline, and responded, “Oh, Dave.” We were still very far from ground but I oddly felt as peaceful and relaxed as I would have been reading a book in a hammock on a Jamaican beach. We spent 12 minutes parachuting towards earth. I finally had time to take in the view and enjoy soaring high up in the sky.
The best 15 minutes of my life, and Dave probably doesn’t even remember my name.
Because my Mom is reading this blog (Hi
Mom!) I’d like to end this entry by stating a dangerous extreme sport
that I did not participate in. I decided it was too dangerous and used
my mature, rational thought process to decide the risks outweighed the
benefits. I did not partake in the sport Zorbing. When one Zorbs, he/
she is placed in a giant see-through ball. A neck brace is put on the
participant in order to prevent the participant from being paralyzed.
The ball is then thrown down a mountain.