Folks,

As some of you might remember, at least those that got my prior E-Mail from a couple of days ago, I was celebrating my 60th birthday last Wednesday at which time I hoped to take a plunge into my first parachute jump thus making the occasion a bit more memorable. Unfortunately the Marana Sky Diving Center near Tucson lacked their usual co-jumping camera man to record all this and I chose to reschedule the leap for today. Thus, seeing that you are reading this letter you can immediately surmise that I have not been mortally flattened into a pancake for anyone who may have had a bit of concern.

Now let me go back to yesterday (Friday) morning as I arrived at the air terminal with a group of supportive gals which included my wife Faye, Bernie Tax and Maxine Bealer from our town of Sierra Vista. On entering the terminal I was immediately given a bunch of legalese paperwork to sign that I would not sue anyone in the world were I to suffer injury or death, whether from accident, negligence or even intentional demise; and that I was mentally sound and doing this without duress. It sounded fair to me and I set my initials next to a couple of dozen paragraphs along with my signature After this I got see a video explaining the extreme dangers of what I was about to do presented by the owner of the company who had a flowing beard down to his belly button and looked just like Moses. The video then showed shots of skydivers gleefully falling toward the earth with parachutes opening with no problem. Which made it all look so simple and totally harmless.

I was then asked if I was ready to take the big leap (cast away all hope) without reservation. Not having a formal reservation, I dared not look "a gift horse in the mouth" and spastically nodded in the affirmative. Actually all they wanted was to run my credit card through their register and for me to sign the bill (which raised my heart rate) while I was still able to function. While in the terminal I was then fastened into a body harness that was so tight in spots that I thought a boa constrictor was embracing me and I was loosing circulation to vital organs with my voice going up a couple of octaves. Nonetheless, prior to ascending to the heavens I managed to crack a smile and say my last brave words to my accompanying cheerleaders not to worry seeing that millions of others have gone before me.... (leaving out that a handful didn't make it.)

Faye & Pete Feldmann (aka - Peachy - not under-dressed nor under duress),,

along with Bernie Tax and Maxine Bealer

[Women just love men in snappy, colorful outfits. Yes, No?]

After this I was quickly ushered out to the runway to await the arrival of the up and down yo-yo commuter aircraft which had already taken a number of groups up prior to me. As we got into this teeny ancient Cessna aircraft which had only one seat for the pilot, hardly any head room and kneeling floor space for me, my tandem-jumper and the camera man, a young woman with a foreign accent ran up and asked for a lift. And of course she got to squeeze into our "sardine can" next to the door since she would be first to bail out.

Our Cessna with 4 passengers and pilot

taxing to the end of the runway.

Way before we were at our designated altitude the tag along gal got the door open and left the plane without hesitation while my instructor hung on to me to keep from being sucked out with her by the tremendous turbulence. He then covered the details of how we would walk on our knees to the door with him sticking his foot on the wheel strut while I was to grab my straps and arch my back and hold my chin up. Things that I forgot immediately when the time came. Then he proceeded to take a nap for the rest of the 15 minutes it took to climb up to 11,500 feet. Seeing his eyes closed I was wondering if he was tired, bored or working off a prior night of partying, none of which made much difference since I knew there was only one way down and he was my ticket.

After awhile my breathing got heavier which usually happens for altitudes above 10,000 feet and probably somewhat from the engine fumes that drifted into the cabin. Otherwise, I was "kuul as a kucumber" taking in the view except for the straight jacket like straps making my toes tingle a bit from pinched nerves and cramped feet. Then came the time to join my straps and clamps with the instructor's harness as he embraced me with a gorilla like grip. Yup, I knew I was in safe hands. The door opened and the rush of wind came in with tornadic fury as we kneelingly inched along the floor up to the door. Then came the moment of truth which lasted about a second. Out we toppled head over heels and we were immediately plainly plane-less on our own plummeting earthward with wind rushing and flapping and wrinkling our facial skin like fluttering sails. At that time a small stabilizing chute the size of a handkerchief came out of his back pack to keep us from unintentional acrobatics, sort of like the proverbial "sky-hook" one was sent to hunt for as a neophyte boy scout as an initiation rite.

Now I realized what was meant by "the rush" that all the other jumpers talked about when they told me about their experience at this. The "rush" was synonymous with "hurry" to get back to solid earth while feeling like you were surrealistically fluttering like a bird in a wind tunnel minus wings. Within a few seconds the sky diving cameraman was ascended magically right in front of us at the same rate of descent while zeroing his lens right on our faces taking both video and still pictures.

Is it a bird or a plane, no it's a Super Stupor "Peach"

Am I letting out cries of panic? No way.... I'm just relishing

"the rush" and trying to breathe at 110 miles per hour.

Looking at it from another angle, you can see our feet hooked together. The instructor kept his wrapped around mine (as he would with any tandem jumper) to keep me from flailing about and causing unintended gyrations in our rapid decent toward terra firma.

Here we have the contorted left facial profile view

with hazy mountains in the lower background.

After a little over a mile of a rushing free fall (actually gravity was mercilessly sucking us straight down for about a minute) the instructor obligingly pulled on his rip cord and the chute began to drag and finally open. So you end up getting two jolts, one for the start of the chute's drag and one for the full opening. Then the wind instantly stops and its more like floating and occasionally soaring side to side in a much kinder and gentler sway. However, when the instructor pulled a line on one side of his chute to steer toward the intended landing area, the G forces on my body doubled making it feel like I had gained an extra body of weight. I even got to play with the "steering wheel" lines that tugged on my hand grip with tremendous force.

In no time we saw that the end was near... of the decent that is. There was the terminal, my cheerleaders and a couple of chase canine hounds at rest (in case of getting lost) below us getting closer and closer. At first when the instructor pulled us to final dip angle toward our landing pad it seemed we were coming down at a walloping speed. But then the last few feet the chute went from steering to more of a braking mode and slowed us down to a easy landing. Since we were strapped together I raised my feet up (per instructions to avoid a head over heels tumbling routine) and we both slid on the soft grass for only a few feet on our rumps as planned. It has sometimes been said that one kneels and kisses the ground after landing safely from a harrowing flight. But in my case it was visa versa or the ground got to kiss my butt for my return to mother earth.

The Landing

(fuzzy picture shot of DVD TV Video... which looks much better on TV)

I was immediately greeted by my entourage of spectator lady friends and got a big kiss from Faye who managed to witness the entire event without any noticeable hysteria according to the other gals.

I leave you with some advice as written on my T-shirt!

You might wonder why people do things that may not be at all necessary and appear to be quite a bit risky from the norms of one's life. I would say that all of life is a risk in itself and we need to weigh the magnitudes of the risks for what enjoyment of achievement or satisfaction of accomplishment comes from taking these so called risks.

I jumped because I knew the odds were entirely in my favor and would recommend it to anyone in good enough health who has a desire to try it. Furthermore, I now have another life's adventures to bend the ears of others who might find it to be interest to hear it. Also, after you do something of a riskier nature life feels more complete, and now after the "rush" is over with .........

...... the pre-spring poppies and lupines in our desert become

more colorful and their smell a bit sweeter!

Pete Feldmann

THE END