Vintage BASE Jumping Stories . . .

[KevinMcGuire 0]

Here is another one. I did not write it funny because there was nothing funny about it.
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At first, all I felt was weightlessness. The sensation was peaceful and serene. But then came the acceleration and I watched as the super structure of the bridge moved quickly past my feet. Clear of the steel and free falling into the moon light canyon below I was acutely aware of how alone in the darkness I was. I was beyond the help of others
After 3 seconds, I felt the wind on my face and heard the roar of it in my ears. It was pull time. I reached back, grabbed the pilot chute, and with one smooth motion, pulled it from its pouch and threw it into the wind. With great anticipation, I waited to hear the familiar ripping sound of Velcro as the rig opened. Instead, I felt nothing; nothing except more acceleration.

I figured that the pilot chute must be trapped in my burble. I rolled onto my side with the hope that I might be able let clean air spill past and inflate the pilot chute. Nothing happened. I looked, but saw nothing. It was too dark, and while I could not see what was happening, I knew the pilot chute was not doing what it must for me to survive.
It was then that the most terrible thought entered my brain. The best explanation (if you can call it that) of why the pilot chute was not inflating was because I must have somehow misrouted it through a leg strap. The realization of the seriousness of my situation was like a baseball bat to the head.
No pilot chute means no parachute, and no parachute means no tomorrow.

It was then that everything began moving in slow motion and I lost all sense of time. I reached back and clawed at the flaps of my container in the desperate hopes of ripping it open and then maybe, just maybe my parachute might still open in time.
In rapid succession, I experienced the most intense emotions of my life. Shock that things were going so badly, terror of awaited me on the rocks below, and anger at my self for the pain I was about to inflict upon my family and those precious few who love me.
My life did not flash before my eyes. Instead, the faces of the two people in the world that meant the most to me filled my vision. The way things were going, I knew that would be the last time I would see them.

Time was a blur. “How much of it has passed? How long have I been in free fall?” Something caught my eye, I looked left, and in an instant, I had my answer. There was Seth, standing on the hiking trail/landing area, his parachute draped over his shoulder, watching helplessly as I fell past him and deeper into the canyon. It was then that I looked down and for the first time and saw the rocks coming up fast. One rock was large, jagged and still. Everything else around it was a blur. That rock would not flinch. That rock would not move. That rock was not going to feel pain and that rock is were I was going to die.

As I free fell through the last 60 feet of my life, a profound sense of deep peaceful calm washed over me. No sound. No fear. No panic. No remorse. Only calm. Calm like I had never experienced before in my life. It was my time and I was ready.
And then……. SLAM. All of the neurons in my brain fired at once and registered as a blinding flash of white light in my eyes.

“This is strange; I’m looking down at the rock. Why am I not a bloody disintegrated mess lying on top of it? Is my soul hovering above my grave and is this my last dying thought?”

Like a needle being scratched off a vinyl record, I was yanked back to reality. I was not dead. I was under my partially opened parachute. The parachute, not yet fully pressurized, surged violently to the left and threw me like a rag doll, straight at the very steep and heavily wooded canyon slope. With no time to prepare for it, I hit hard. As soon as I hit, I began clutching wildly for anything that might keep me from falling backwards and into the raging river just a few short feet behind me. My parachute became snagged high up in a tall tree over my head. If it had fallen into the water, the parachute would most certainly have dragged me into the fast moving river, and sealed my fate.

As I stood there trembling uncontrollably, it became clear that I had more adrenalin coursing through my veins at that moment than at any other time in my entire life. There was no pain, but judging by how hard I hit, I knew pain was on the way. Starting at my hips, I reached down with both hands, and quickly checked to see if I had any bones sticking out. I felt nothing. Nothing was good.

Realizing that the adrenaline was masking the pain, I took off my rig, left it lying where I landed, and I started climbing up the slope. It wouldn’t be long before moving on my own became impossible
Half way up the slope, I saw Seth. He was 30 feet away and closing fast. He yelled, “Are you alright?” “No” I yelled back. “I think I’m hurt bad but can’t feel it yet. Please, grab my gear, I’ll try to make it to the pick up point while I still can.”
I made it up the slope, onto the hiking trail, and started a very wobbly walk to where a car was waiting. I was moving, but not in a way that I ever had before. It felt almost as if my legs were no longer attached to my body and walking a straight line was totally out of the question.

An unknown number of steps later, the pain set in. Unable to take another step, I collapsed on the path as a tidal wave of pain slammed into me over and over again. It was my knees. I had hyper extended them and the pain was spectacular.
In the time it took Seth to collect my gear and reach me where I lay, both of my knees had swollen to the size of basketballs. Thankfully when he did reach me, he had with him, one of the other jumpers who had jumped before me. Seth and Corky each grabbed an arm and carried my ass the rest of the way out. And for that, I owe them big time.
Later on, back at the hotel, a group of jumpers came by to welcome me back from the brink. They gave me a big bottle of rum, bags of ice, and I proceeded to self-medicate and ponder what had just happened.
Seth later told me that when he saw me fall passed him as he stood on the trail; my parachute was almost at line stretch. If the parachute had come out of the container a fraction of a second later, this story would have ended differently and I would not be the one telling it.
I’m told that while in free fall, I let out the most blood curdling scream of terror that no one in attendance had ever heard before. I don’t remember doing that and I never heard a thing, but if I did, who can blame me? Certainly not those who have YET to experience what I went through that night.
I never did find out for sure why the pilot chute took so long to inflate. No one saw a thing. The most logical explanation points to the way I folded the pilot chute. Not misrouting as I had believed.

Back then, not much was known about jumping with the pilot chute stowed in its pouch and only a hand full of jumpers that I knew of were doing it. Up to that point, I had always jumped with it in my hand. Not knowing any better and having no one around to teach me the proper method, I folded the pilot chute as cleanly as I could, much like I would have if I were making a skydive. I believe that the extra time it took for the pilot chute to unfurl was the cause of the extended delay and only when I started kicking and flailing for my life did the pilot chute actually begin to work. It was my first time going stowed and while going stowed soon became all the rage in the BASE jumping, it took me another 6 years before I would try it again.

That chilly night in the spring of 94 will for ever be etched upon my soul. I almost became a cautionary tale.
I believe that event changed my life far more than any other event before or since. It opened my eyes to what is truly important in this world. The connections we make and the people we hold dear are all that matters. Everything else is just noise
For many years to follow, I held the dubious distinction of holding the record for being the guy who opened the lowest at that particular bridge. Ten years later, some unfortunate fellow broke that record and many of his bones in the precess, but thankfully, he survived to tell the tale. I hope that one day he does.

[aj4218 0]

Having read that the chills down my spine have only just disappeared.

It reminded me a bit (but only a bit) of a certain SW who static-lined a 245' UK bridge back in the early 80s and the break tie cord was too light and broke before it had extracted almost anything of the canopy out of the tray. He only got the canopy out fully by hitting the sides of the container with his elbows and got inflation just in time.

That was about as unfunny too.

[KevinMcGuire 0]

bump

[BASE813 0]

After a weekend in the Lowlands of BE and not getting a jump in due to weather, myself and the guy I first started BASE with decided to make the best of the holiday weekend and drive back from Antwerp to the UK (3 hours), back to my house (3 hours), check the winds and go and do our first E and jump the Cheesy Cliff (mentioned in Groundrush a bit). Winds looked good for the morning so drove straight there (2 hours) to find the exit point and check out the landing. All looked good and we went to grab a pint to discuss the jump. Now the Cheesy one is quite a hardcore jump, and at the time we both had about 18 jumps and naturally we were both abit apprehensive about doing such a jump, we sat in the pub with our pint discussion whether such a jump should be done - the tone was starting to move toward a negative, so my friend said "I know lets go somewhere", we drove to a place called Weston Super Mare (another 1 hour) we sat in a pub having another pint over looking the town, we watched all the holiday makers (weston super mare is a tacky place where people who cant afford to go away on holiday go for holidays) staggering around, falling asleep with their chips on their chest in the road and generally being horribly behaved. After about 30mins of watching this I realised something, people waste their whole lives not really living and what we do is special and needs to be savoured, I turned to my mate and said "lets fucking do this". We drove back to the cliff (another 1 hour) and parked up below the exit to get about 3 hours sleep in the car to start our way up to get to the exit for sunrise. We awake, hike up and now it takes us less time as we know where the exit point is so we misjudge the sunrise, we have another 2 hours til sunrise. We sit down and wait, in the cold, I start shivering, and feel the cold of the night, then I stop and start wanting to go to sleep, my mate recognises this as the start of hypothermia and says "you gotta get some heat, let me hug you", he sees the look on my face and says "not in a gay way you bummer"

We hug and keep warm, we discuss that BASE should technically allow us to sleep with more women, but all it has done is allow us to sleep with more men in strange out of the way places...

The sunrises, we get kitted up and we jump the 340ft slightly underhung Cheesy one for our first E...............

We are naturally buzzing our tits off. We drive back to my house (2 hours), and pack our rigs in my garden, we then fall alseep on the packing sheet as after 10 hours driving and 3 hours sleep in the past 24 hours and the stresses we felt in doing this cliff as our first E it was only right our bodies thought "fuck me"

3 days later we then scoped and jumped our first B (1 night my friend and the next night me solo), but thats another story in itself.................. fucking air con systems are small!!

I wont bore you anymore..........

[Sean621 0]

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.................. fucking air con systems are small!!

you should have used the door like everyone else

http://www.extreme-on-demand.com

[lifewithoutanet 0]

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but thats another story in itself.................. fucking air con systems are small!!

And this is the thread for it...
-C.

[Lonnie 0]

I suck at essays, but I'll give this one a try.

This story begins when I went to visit one of my team mates from team FX, Anthony, in our nations capital Ottawa. I went to make a few jumps from some of the dozens of A's in his playground, all of which are 300ft or lower. After a night of raping some of his favorites, we went downtown to see the "sites"! While walking around the city with the usual "did it, did it, did it, along with the holy shit so and so totally got away with almost......! We were doing what all base jumpers do when walking the streets, looking for a way to get off THAT one. We had formulated a plan to do one of the hotels not far from the parliament building. We were just walking around and looking at some of the ones that were un-penetratable. The nicest one was also the tallest building in Ottawa allowed by the by-laws. It also happened to be the XXXXX Canada building, which is our version of the American FAA. The police of all aviation in Canada. Anthony explained to me that he had once tried to get in and was accosted by security at the first door asking who he had an appointment with, and was told that the building was NOT open to the public. While playing the lost tourist, he chatted up the guard and tried to get a feel for the place. He noted that every person coming in had their ID checked, and that there was more than one security check point to go through, JUST to get to the elevator. Also from where he stood he could see there was a operator in the elevator. Anthony is a VERY smooth talker, and got quite a bit of info from the security guard on the level of security in the building and found out that it was one of the most secure buildings in Ottawa. He was going through this story while we were walking along the building face. All of a sudden I noticed something strange out of the corner of my eye. It was a window washing unit that was cordoned off, BUT at ground level! I motioned to Anthony at what I saw. He didn't get it, so I took a quick look around, and hoped over the barricade. I jumped into the basket, haven never seen one of these things operate before, I looked for some sort of control. HMMMM... this looks like something. JACKPOT!!! Not only did I find it, but the power had been left on!! This was Saturday around 7PM so I figured the guys MUST be done for the day, if not for the weekend. Scramble back over the barricade before anyone sees me! The next few hours we giggled like school girls at our AMAZING luck! Plans obviously changed! The thought of flicking the governing body of aviation building was like a dream come true, the ultimate IN YOUR FACE! Ground crew organized, we come back at 3AM. After a quick survey of the area, we hope into our chariot! Neither one of us knows what we're doing, but figure it out quick enough. For those who don't know, there is two controls, one for each side, and you need to co-ordinate the upward motion of each side. After we start, and get about 10-15ft off the ground, I notice that the power cord is hanging down, and could be easily grabbed on, and un-plugged, by anyone who spots us. I pull the power cable up, and coil it into the center of the basket, we also start to coil up the safety ropes for the workers in the basket. More giggling at our cleverness, now they won't be able to stop us from the ground, and we figure by the time they get to the roof we'll be high enough to jump anyway! WRONG!! The speed at which those things move is incredibly SLOW! After 15-20 min. we weren't even half the 300ft to the top. At about the 200ft mark my coil of rope over filled the basket, and spilled out unwinding itself to the end. Turned out fairly good for me, very little noise and now it was beyond anyones reach. I chuckled at the fact I no longer had to bother with it, and told Anthony he should do the same. He declined so we just carried on. Another 20ft or so and THUD!, followed by the whirling sound of the power cable now doing the same as my rope! At least 250ft of 1in. power cable now freefalling out of the basket! My mind was racing, the noise! Then it occurred to me, when it hit the end. HOLD ON!! It was tied off to the basket! A split second later it hit the end. The force it had generated was incredible. It tipped the basket at least 60 degrees. The force also bent the railing it was tied to, like a bow-tie! The basket bounced off the glass several times as well as the cable spanking the side of the building. The noise was deafening to us. Someone would be coming any second, and we were only a little higher than 200ft, and smack dab in the middle of the wall, not on the corner. A flaw we had over looked in our excitement earlier. We raced as fast as the basket could take us up, expecting to find a guard at the top waiting for us. Along the way we noticed the basket was having trouble moving now. All the smashing around must have jarred something. Every 20ft or so the cable would slip on the one spool, and the whole basket would shake, and drop down on one side a bit. As we approached the top the whole thing started to shake violently, we had to scramble and climb the last 5ft up the cable. Amazing when we got to the top no-one was waiting for us. Knees knocking like never before. Anthony was anxious to get off before anyone came bursting out the roof door, but I needed a few minutes to scrape the crap off my legs. The jump was the MOST anti-climax jumps I've ever done. We both had perfect jumps, landing right in the center of the strip club parking lot across the street. We howled at the thought of the guys returning to work on Monday to find their basket at the top, and scratching their heads trying to figure out how it got up there!


Holy shit this thing is way too long!

I should ban myself for 14 days

NEVER GIVE UP!

[KevinMcGuire 0]

Didn't seem, too long to me. In fact it seemed just about right. Nice one Lonnie

[Mr.Bill 0]

.up.

[freefal 0]

Lonnie's story about the window washing scaffold reminded me of my first B story. The ride up was wayyyy scarier then the jump back down!

After a long lazy Saturday of not accomplishing much more than babysitting and running errands, my wife and I decided to sit out on the deck and have a few beers. After tossing back about 4 of them the phone rings. Zoomee said, "To B or not to B. That is the question." He proceeded to tell me about a construction scaffold/window washer thing on the side of a certain local building that he and Dan had come across and I couldn't believe him.

It was “my” building... The one I'd driven slowly past and scoped out for months... The one I had detailed floor plans for showing the exit elevation... The one none of us could find a way into was now somehow accessible... and I was packed!
Thankfully, my BASE jumping brothers/mentors had the consideration to call me. They said the platform on the lift would only hold three people and I was the one who had gathered the most intel and done the most work on this one so it only seemed right to call me.

I met them at a nearby bar in record time where we contemplated calling one more person. “I don't know if that thing will even hold the three of us,” Dan said. To which I replied, “I’m so nervous, I think I could puke.” We headed off on our covert mission with no ground crew because we figured something would probably fall through anyway (like it always did on these B attempts) so there was no use dragging anyone else into the mix. We parked Zoomee’s car about a block and a half away and decide to gear up in the shadows behind one of the dumpsters in the construction site at the base before getting on the scaffold. Once we got there I saw the reason for the reservation about calling anyone else. This scaffold is small, maybe 7’x2 ½’, and it’s supported by one small metal cable routed through a motor on the side. There are some other ropes, the power cord and two rollers that ride up the side of the building, but all the weight of us, gear, the coiled up ropes and power cord (and the huge load of crap I was about to dump in my pants!) was going to be supported by one small metal cable. No tracks or guides. No other support. Just the three of us dangling and bouncing up the building. I definitely thought I could puke now!

Once we were on our way up… at a breakneck speed of about ½ mph… I realized how obvious and vulnerable we were. Anyone coming down the one-way street could look up and see us. We were at about 20’ up when we hit our first snag. I’m not being metaphorical here either. We actually had to back the scaffold back down and unhook the ropes and power cable from a concrete ledge they were snagged on. At about 50’ up two guys walked under and looked up but just kept walking as if it were normal for window washers to be working at night… in black helmets… with backpacks on! At about 100’ a cop drove right under us but didn’t notice anything because we were now above his normal field of view.

When we finally made it to the top we hit our second snag. The beam holding the scaffold cable out from the building wasn’t elevated above the lip of the building’s edge. So there we were standing on the platform dangling about 9 feet from the top of the building with no more cable to climb looking at each other like a bunch of retards. “I don’t know about jumping off this rickety platform”, I said. Zoomee had the crazy idea of climbing up on top of the scaffold railing and frame to the beam and over the ledge to the roof. Fortunately, he had the balls to try this while Dan and I watched in awe. (Remember going to the circus as a kid and watching the tightrope walker? You held your breath the whole time just waiting for him to slip or something. Well, it was kinda like that, but Zoom was 360 feet above a construction site!) I was next, and after I got over the side I was shaking so hard I had to sit down for a minute and try to breathe.

So there we were on top of the city. The view was awesome and even if this somehow didn’t work out we had still taken one of the juiciest trips to an exit point that I’ve ever heard of. This juice was completely different than any other I’d felt before. Take your first skydive, add in your first BASE jump, multiply that by 100 and you can begin to understand the kind of juice that was oozing out of every pore in my body. My mouth had never been that dry before. My stomach had never been that tight.

Then we hit another snag. A cop/security car pulled up right next to the landing area and a guy got out walked into the building down the street. Was he a cop or security guard? Was he coming back out or would he be in there for a while? Could he be in there all night? After deliberating for about 5 minutes we finally decided to go. Through a well-planned exit order analysis (rock/paper/scissors) it was decided that Zoom would go first followed by me then Dan. Before I knew it Zoomee had left the building. A few seconds later I did the ol’ 321-c ya and was gone. I opened a little off heading to the left and headed straight for one building (bad) then risered too hard to the right and headed for another (worse). Then I released my toggles and let them up into full flight and found myself catapulted down the urban canyon of buildings way too fast (holy shit!) I wrestled my Mojo into control and did a stand up landing right past the intersection. I turned around to see Dan touch down a few feet away then watched in terror as Zoomee fumbled for what seemed like forever for his keys. Once we were in the car, we noticed the security guard and another security guy walking toward the car. Zoomee dug through all the canopy material to find the parking brake release (Go! Go! They’re coming right at us!) and we were off. We didn’t stop until we were back at his house with some drinks in our hands and big fat grins on our faces.

"Ignorance is bliss" and "Patience is a virtue"... So if you're stupid and don't mind waiting around for a while, I guess you can have a pretty good life!

[NickDG 23]

>>HOT TIP #4: Dont talk to crack heads while approaching a building.
<<

That's from some good advice Johnny posted next door . . .

One night three of us are separately walking down a side street at 3:00 AM and we passed a closed Tattoo Parlor. In the doorway was a girl just standing there and I said hello, but her eyes are heroin dead and she looked right through me.

"What the freak was that?" a partner asked when we re-grouped prior to our assault on the fence.

"I don't know, but even though we went right passed her I don't think she saw us."

The fences around the building are wood and not chain link and we made a very quiet penetration. We moved slowly through the piles of construction materials and equipment slipping from light to shadow before we found the stairwell, put our heads down, and began climbing.

We stopped on the 10th floor for a look-see. We check all four sides and see no activity. We were in.

"Look, she's still there."

She's right where we picked to land. We thought what are we going to do, call the police? We giggled at that and resumed climbing figuring she probably wouldn't even notice us, like the first time we passed her. Thirty four stories later we are on top. I couldn't see her anymore because I didn't have the angle on the doorway, and anyway by that point I never spare a care for anything besides living through the next few minutes. I can deal with any of the lesser consequences after that.

It's a good load. My two crewmates are experienced and capable and we didn't spend any time saying, "What do you think?" The wind is nil, there's no one around, and there's nothing to do but do it. We gear up in silence concentrating on what each is doing. Sometimes when you are with a newer BASE jumper there's a lot of what-ifs articulated and I don't have anything against that, but I'm always one or two steps from hearing, "It doesn't feel right," and walking back down.

We are confident and up for it . . .

We walked the perimeter of the building one more time and re-gather at the chosen launch point. All's cool. We gear check each other and one by one climb over the safety cable, drink it in, and launch. I love that part when you let go of the cable, and balance there for moment suspended between heaven and hell. You haven't left yet, but you can't go back . . .

A bit more than three seconds later I'm turning for the approach and I see her. She standing in the middle of the street and I dodge her a bit and land smoothly. I'm pulling my canopy out of the air and trying to run at the same time. But, she catches me, and she's awake now, her eyes full of life, and she's laughing out loud, saying, "Man, O' Man, I saw you," and she kissed me full on the mouth.

It was probably the most dangerous thing I did that night . . .

NickD BASE 194

[blair700 0]

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I love that part when you let go of the cable, and balance there for moment suspended between heaven and hell. You haven't left yet, but you can't go back . . .

Damn that made me shiver....me too bro, me too.
Thanks!
Blair

[GeordieSkydiver 0]

Bump.

Lee _______________________________

In a world full of people, only some want to fly, is that not crazy?
http://www.ukskydiver.co.uk

[leroydb 0]

its not vintage... its hot of the presses though

Drove into work with my "non-base trip car" It has BIRDMAN, Human Flight" on the top of the front windshield.

The civilian contract guard at the gate says, "are you one of the guys that jumps off the cliffs and fly like birds?"

I said no, jsutSB* out of planes...


(((((smiles))))))

one day though... one day.

Leroy


..I knew I was an unwanted baby when I saw my bath toys were a toaster and a radio...

[BASE813 0]

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but thats another story in itself.................. fucking air con systems are small!!

And this is the thread for it...
-C.

Having bagged our E, we we now rolling with the wave of enthusiasm (a bad thing) so we decided to go check out a B that had been jumped before but had been locked up but was now back under renovation (rigs in hand), we sat having a beer going over street plans and various meeting points if we got split up, where we should park the car and where we should wait, where the hospitals were and what the situations may end up and the reactions to these situations - we were planning to the nth degree. It was windy at this point and we thought we would just be finding a way in (but with rigs just incase)

After planning we decided to walk over and try and find an entrance. There were several security guards in several portable offices on site, so we found the best place to scale the wall (which they nicely had put broken glass on top) and once in the compound we started our way to the B. Several times we saw people in other portable offices and driven on our buzz we were ducking and hiding and basically playing at "being kids" - it was a kick!

We found some open stairwell down to the basement, which took us into a space that you could not even sit on your knees in, we were crawling on our bellys pushing our stash bags as we went through this laberinth of small tunnels and pipes, it was dusty dirty and just plain nasty.

This place was a fucking maze, we spent about 2 hours going around trying to find a way into the B, then we found a way to another area with room and a set of stairs and thought "this is the fucker" as we came out at the top, we put our heads over and realised we were about 70 ft from the B and looking back at it from a service access. The first thought was "ah fuck" but then it dawned on us, we were looking at a stairwell on the side of the B with a missing window at the bottom! (the B is under refurb) - not only could we have walked a bit and round the corner and found this, we had just spent the last 2 hours crawling around the maze getting covered in shit just to come up away from the B!

We made our way to the scaffold and open window like kids playing at war, and climbed up a story of scaffold to the open window and we were in!

We started the climb up the stair well - all the time nervous as fuck that the echo of your mates scuff of his shoe is someone in the same stairwell, we must have taken an hour to climb up towards the 350ish ft mark. Then the access was blocked, we had to go across a level that had lights on with 20ft windows - again we were on our chests slipping across the floors to each access point (2 guys walking around a B at midnight in London with big arsed windows and lights is noticable) trying to find a way onto the roof. AT LAST we find another set of stairs and a way onto the roof, we look about and there is not a decent exit point due to all the scaffold, back down we go a couple of levels and again on our chests to find another way out. We find a ladder leading up through the blockage in a set of stairs and find a platform to get off. Its not pleasant as if you have a >90L off heading you hit alot of scaffold if you are not right on your shit. With the landing area being a car park of a well know national exhibition center and our ignorance and arrogance we choose this exit point, and the wind has also died down.

My friend decides "I am going" - I decide with the marginal winds "Not for me" - so I shake his hand and wish him luck and arrange to call him when I get back to the car.

All is good on his jump, and I pick him up and we drive off laughing about the whole night.

The next after next, I was at home alone and looked out of the window and it was breathless, I jumped in my car and travelled 70 miles to the B, this time I went through the easy access and went straight to the exit, I called my friend at the top and explained where I was and ask for telephone groundcrew.

I got off, all was good and drove away laughing to myself once again.

The night my friend got off he became BASE811, the night I got off I became BASE813.............

and it was not long after I looked back at our B and E and thought "what the fuck were were thinking" - time to slow down a bit and get off this wave of excitement.............

[BASE813 0]

also have a story about Fabers first B that I will post soon..................

[gus 1]

Four guys go to scope out a bridge. The conditions are great and the landing area is ok but the cripple and the Welshman decide not to jump. This was much appreicated by the remaining jumpers because it meant they got a driver and video from the ground .
So the cripple stays on the ground whilst the Welshman drives the jumpers on to the bridge. It should be noted that this was a motorway bridge where it's not strictly cool to stop a car, or get out, or jump off! It should also be noted that the Welshman wasn't strictly insured on this vehicle. But with pilot chutes in hand the jumpers approach the bridge, it looks good, the Welshman stops the car in exactly the right place, the jumpers get out and the car speeds off. The jumpers climb over the crash barrier, jumper #1 raises his pilot chute and is about to exit when........ sirens! Right behind them. Busted. Outstandingly bad timing. Resigned to their fate (most likely being bummed senseless by an irate policeman in a dirty cell somewhere) the jumpers climb back over the barrier, smiles gone. The police, who are on the opposite side of the carriageway, tell the jumpers to stay there whilst they turn their car around. The jumpers signal their compliance. So the police car moves off but when it doesn't pull an immediate u-turn something dawns on jumper #1 and a little light bulb switches on over his ProTec: they'd already driven down that road once and there wasn't anywhere to turn around for ages. The next motorway junction was a good 5 minutes away, if not more. Jumper #1 turns to jumper #2: "We could still go you know?". Stay and definately get busted or jump and maybe get busted. "Fuck it" says jumper #2. And fuck the exit order because before you could say 3-2-1 jumper #2 was back over the barrier and hopping off. Jumper #1 follows, both land ok and leg it in to the woods with the cripple in not-so-hot pursuit. They desperately try to get the Welshman on the radio to tell him not to come down the tiny windy little track to pick them up because they'll get blocked in by the police. But he's out of range. So the three fugitives sit in the woods and as soon as the Welshman is back in range they tell him to leave and come back in an hour. An hour later, with no sign of any police interest, they come nervously out of the woods, find the Welshman and drive off - staying off the motorway for a while!

Just a story I heard second hand one time.

Gus

OutpatientsOnline.com

[BASE813 0]

and prey tell why was the "cripple" was a cripple?

lazy cunts.............

[aj4218 0]

I got this fantastic email from Rob yesterday and he’s happy for me to share it. I had let him know that there were some great stories being posted as a result of his Dad’s story. Give him a welcome, he's watching.


‘Dear Alan,

Well that was certainly a little moving, reading all those stories about my Dad.

Whether or not you purposely didn't mention the "suggested stories about Frank column" I don't know but I found it by searching and I thought your account was fantastic and I am very proud to have got a mention.

You also mention that you have been in contact with Nigel Slee, via the website I believe and I would be interested to contact him also. I understand he was one of the gang! [I’ve sent Rob his email address – AJ]

When I read stories about skydiving / base jumping I long to learn to jump and enter that world. Unfortunately I am probably similar to the "Frank and Alan" of the period in that my ideal entrance to the sport would be from 14,000 feet, rather than the lengthy and costly training program of today. Mainly due to financial reasons, (not because I am too lazy to learn properly)

Living in Thailand however does not allow that whatsoever. There is no AFF course here (Although KM is thinking of coming over to run one) and even if there was it would be too expensive.

When I read these accounts, I imagine skydiving to have been a fun, free sport back in the day.

Alan - How many modern skydivers still camp out in caravans waiting for the wind to change, or clouds to pass? How many pack parachutes all weekend for the thrill of a ten minute jump at the end of the day??? Is this way of enjoying skydiving still possible.

Anyways, one day I hope that my situation will allow me to do that, and in fact I have just had the motivation to send KM an email right now.

Thank you very much for keeping me in mind, I hope that you and your family are well.

I would love you to check out my website, www.thai-dragonfly.com which will give you a pretty good idea of what I am up to over here in sunny Thailand.

Thanks again for the mail and hope to stay in touch,

BIG HUGZ,

Rob ‘

[crwper 7]

When I read all these great stories, it's easy to imagine that the past was a land of milk and honey and memorable jumps--nobody ever did a so-so jump back in the day.

I think it's the same as with the classics in art, literature, and music. We remember all the good stuff, the ground-breaking stuff, and not all the crap that was turned out in between, so our impression is of a golden age from which we have somehow slipped.

I think what we need to remember, certainly what I need to remember, is that today is what we make it. There are groups out there today doing phenomenal stuff which will be recalled years from now as "vintage BASE jumping stories". Any time we feel like making a new one, the world is our playground.

Michael

[NickDG 23]

Hold on, Brother, It's not the "Golden Age" just yet. There are too many of us that recall the bad times of the good old days. The deaths, the injuries, the fines and the jail time.

Since I've lived in both times I think you are being a bit premature in divvying up these eras. I think in 500 years the first 100 years of BASE would qualify, but we are still way closer to the beginning of the sport than to the middle.

I guess it easy to think of BASE jumpers in the 80s as running around like the Keystone Cops in a one reeler, bumping into each other, falling down, and just once in a while getting it right. But, not that much has changed. Technically throw out the pin rigs, the tailgates, the dedicated canopies, and the wing suits, and a kid on his first BASE jump then and now is practically the same. He stands there with a big pair of balls and not much else.

One thing has certainly changed. Jumpers in 1980's were a more independent lot by far. The way different crews went about their BASE jumping was sometimes startling different from one another. The sport was pure and new, I mean it was more exciting as we were learning as we went along. A frequent saying back then was, "Oh man, don't do that," as we slowly learned from the mistakes of others.

But here's the rub, we still are learning. It's just easy nowadays for a new BASE jumper to believe it's all been done, and to become proficient all they need do is catch up.

I know its progress, but I smile sometimes when I see posts asking, "I'm thinking of BASE jumping, so what should I do?" Twenty five years ago there was no such thing. You'd simply picked your object, set up your gear the best way you knew how, and then just went for it. Even if you messed up no one in the BASE community would say much as we were all more or less on equal footing. Everybody was just guessing.

There are a few people by the mid-80s going around telling people, "This is how you do it," and it started a lot of fires as most thinking jumpers realized we weren't anywhere near having it down that pat. It was mostly ego and false bravado on their parts. And I'm not so sure we have it down even yet. The so called "Golden Age" has taught us what "not" to do much more than what "to" do. And that learning curve is no where close to being over. Mentors should always begin their classes with, "okay, here’s what we think," and not, "here's what we know." If you don't the more astute in your class will see the fraud . . .

NickD BASE 194

[crwper 7]

I think you misunderstood my post. What I'm saying is that it's easy to see the early days of BASE jumping as the Golden Age, because we view those times with the benefit of hindsight. Many of us were not there, and so we know only the stories we're told, which tend to be the more interesting ones. In reality, I think we are very much still in the midst of this exploration, and sometimes it's worth reminding ourselves that the jumps we make today will be the vintage stories of tomorrow.

Michael

[GeordieSkydiver 0]

Bump.

Its been a while.

Lee _______________________________

In a world full of people, only some want to fly, is that not crazy?
http://www.ukskydiver.co.uk

[CBRnick 0]

Quote

I'm still working on it!

Jakey's Groundrush can be had here:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/search-handle-form/202-3211624-6820659

You can D/L BASE 66 here:

http://www.diesel-ebooks.com/cgi-bin/item/0595783090

NickD BASE 194

Holy shit !

I read Groundrush years ago and threw it away after Id read it. I thought Id get it again after being reminded of it, so followed this link, and found the average price of this book in the UK is £175.00, with a good quality copy going for £240.00 from one vendor on Amazon !

Well I guess thats one book IM not going to read again then...

[MikePelkey 0]

I only have one "vintage" BASE jump to relate, but it does go back a few years. I'm sure a lot of you have already heard it, but I'll tell it here for those of you who haven't.

The year was 1966. BASE jumping didn't have a name yet and there were no FJC instructors around, so we had to play it by ear. The square Ram-air parachute technology hadn't been invented yet, so we had to make do with the round state-of-the-art modified military parachutes which were widely used those days. The Cap had never been jumped. In fact, the only "BASE" jump in the 1900's was from the Statue of Liberty by Frederick Law. We were not aware of that jump at the time.

Our mission was quite simple. We wanted to be the very first parachutists to conquer the Cap. The hike to the top was extremely arduous. Brian Schubert, Jim Cleary and I made the tiring trip to the top in approximately 8 1/2 hours. The gear was much heavier back then. We did our utmost to appear as backpackers in the event we might be seen by anyone in authority on the way up. We had no idea whether the park rangers would stop us if they happened to recognize that we were parachutists, but we didn't want to take any chances.

When we reached the top we came to the most perfect launching pad we could ask for. It was as close to perfectly horizontal as it gets and hung out over the edge at least 6 to 8 feet. Jim Cleary was not there to jump. He was with us to do his best to record the event with a still camera.

As I was finishing getting geared up (we both wore full jump suits, paratrooper boots, helmets, 28 foot TU-7 mains and 24 foot reserves), Brian beat me to the punch and exited without so much as a warning. I followed right behind him. We knew nothing about still air jumps and we both apparently exited in the same haphazard manner. Two hundred feet below me, to my amazement, Brian began executing a front loop. As I was wondering why he would be performing ariel maneuvers while he was still within ten feet or so of the face, I started my own unintentional front loop, perfectly identical to his.

We had no reason to be real concerned about off-heading openings. That was one redeeming characteristic of the good old round parachute. They were made more to float you safely down to earth than to fly you where you might want to go. There was no chance of clearing the trees and making it all the way to the clearing so our only choice was to land on the rocky talus right below the face.

Once open, the winds were incredibly erratic. At one point I was considerably higher in my open canopy than I was when I opened. I encountered some extreme updrafts and sidedrafts. The wind blew in every direction except directly away from the face. At one point, coming out of a tricky side draft, I made an unfortunate decision to turn my canopy around to face the mountain so I could see when I hit it and kick myself away. Striking the cliff fractured a bone in my ankle. I knew I would somehow have to be able to land on it at the bottom and I could be in trouble.

Brian had worse problems. His canopy collapsed from the erratic winds as he rode the last 50 feet or so down the face of the mountain. Landing on the rocks below with a collapsed canopy cost him some very severe injuries to both his feet. I was very fortunate to end up landing like a feather with my broken ankle.

We both spent some time in the hospital. I was released the same day but Brian was confined a bit longer with his injuries.

We did, however, accomplish exactly what we came for.

In theory, there is no difference bretween theory and practice. In practice, however, there is. -

"RIP Forever Brian Schubert. Always remembered, Never forgotten" - Leroy DB
http://www.johnny