So here I am, 18 months into the sport, and I still don’t know how to pack my parachute.
That’s why I was sitting in the packing room struggling with my canopy this morning instead of jumping. It’s gotten to the point where I pretty much expect someone to come help me if I look pathetic enough, and sure enough, a guy in a white and purple jumpsuit came over to help me. "I’m Rock," he said, and shook my hand. "I’m a JM, not a rigger, but..." he told me, and started flaking my canopy.
"How many jumps do you have?" he asked. Sixty, I told him. Then he said, "Wanna do some CReW?"
I laughed politely, not wanting to drive him off before he finished my pack job.
A few minutes later, while he was closing the container: "So we’re gonna do some CReW, right?"
"Um, riiiiiight," I said. Then, rig packed, I manifested, and wandered outside.
At the 20-minute call, I went back in. "So are you ready for some CReW" Rock asked.
"Is this some kind of inside joke?" I asked, looking around. A bunch of skydivers were grinning at me.
"No!" he said. "I’m totally serious."
"Fine," I said. "I’ll do CReW. No problem. It’ll be great."
"Cool!" he said. So I found some gloves and disconnected my RSL while he got his Cypres turned off, marveling the whole time at the obvious folly of this. I can barely land, for fuck’s sake. But then, if I paid attention to obvious folly, I never would have hopped out of an airplane in the first place.
On our way out to the plane, he told me what to do. "You’ll feel my canopy bump against your legs," he said. Holy crap. "Then you need to grab the canopy with both hands and hook your feet inside the lines," he continued. Holy fucking crap. "Then, one at a time, put your feet behind the lines under the cascade, and you’ll slide down to me," he said. Good God. "And if we get into a wrap, listen to me and I’ll tell you who cuts away first," he finished nonchalantly. Jesus wept.
On the plane ride up, Rock leaned against me and spoke into my ear over the roar of the engine. "The reason everyone was laughing about your doing CReW with me is because I’m always asking and nobody ever wants to do it. They’re afraid to touch another canopy in the air."
"Well, so am I!" I said.
"It’ll be fine," he said, and leaned back.
Jump run came, and I pulled my goggles on. No helmet. "So you can hear me yell at you," he said. We were the last ones out. Rock instructed me to stay with him until just over 10K, when he’d track away and pull. When I saw him deploy, I would too.
So we got in the door, Rock gave the count and...hey, what the fuck? He’s a JM, why isnt he arching - oh my God he’s on my back! Rodeo!
Then he flew around in front of me and grabbed my arms and got us in a fast spin. Trapped, I grinned helplessly.
He finally let me go, backed off, and impossibly close to me, I saw the D-bag lifting off his back. I pulled in place. Good canopy. Yeeha.
So I pulled my goggles off, and was floating along, two miles above the world, and looked over my shoulder to see Rock’s canopy behind me. RIGHT behind me. Then it was touching me, and I screamed and pulled my legs up, I think. I can’t remember exactly what happened. I was aggrieved.
He tried to dock several more times, and I kept screwing it up - at one point, I was convinced his canopy was stuck to my container and we were BOTH GOING TO DIE AIEEEE! But then after I frantically informed him this of sad fact, he flew off to try again, so, ha ha, apparently we weren’t stuck after all.
Finally, I grabbed the nose of his canopy, and stuck my feet in the lines. "Good!" Rock said every time I did anything remotely correct. "Now put your feet under the cascades...one at a time...good…okay, hold the lines and come down...good...now hook your feet behind the risers...good!" Then he grabbed my feet and holy shit we were in a stack.
I was under canopy, touching another person under canopy. It was, quite possibly, the coolest feeling in the world. I started shrieking. "Oh my fucking GOD this is the COOLEST FUCKING THING I have EVER FUCKING DONE!!!" I said, a few times, loudly, and in a few different phrasings.
"Turn right," Rock called, and I pulled my toggle down one inch. "More!" he yelled. One more inch. "More!!!" he yelled, and I gave it an aggressive pull. Wheeee!
We straightened back out, flew for a while, then he had me turn 360s and we spiraled down.
"Now for our next trick..." Rock said.
I’m not sure how we did this part, but I somehow climbed down and grabbed his left riser and gosh something happened and our canopies were side-by-side. That was WEIRD.
Then, he grabbed my legs and I grabbed his (or something, I really can’t remember; I was too buzzed), and the canopies were in a downplane. That was fucking COOL.
Then, all of a sudden, the pressure yanked us apart and he was halfway across the sky. I checked my altimeter, and I was at 2K.
Oh man, I was so pumped. I found the airport, flew my pattern, flared, stood that bitch up...then fell down. Natch. I gathered up my canopy, and we headed back into the packing room. "You guys are slow!" Phil, the drop zone owner said, grinning. Everyone else had landed minutes before. "Was that your...FIRST CReW?" Phil asked me.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I told him.
A little later, Rock took me outside for a debrief. My hair was TRASHED from the freefall with no helmet. I couldn’t keep it out of my face. We talked about what went well and what could have gone better. My timidity at first was a big issue. But, he said, "Most people wait until they have two or three hundred jumps to try CReW. I'm glad you wanted to at 60."
I was terribly amused when he said, "You were so quiet on the ground, but you’re an animal up there!"
