There comes a time   as a skydiver, I think, when it will ‘bitch-slap’ you and remind you that the sport demands respect. It wasn’t far into my student progression when it was my turn to learn the biggest lesson of all.

My fifth jump, and my first time pulling my own chute. I’d done two practice-pulls, pulling a piece of knotted crepe paper in the same way that I would be pulling my pilot chute to get the feel of it. They’d went wonderfully! Just let go, arch and yank that sucker out! The attitude kicks in. This is gonna be a breeze! We get to altitude and Merrick goes first. Our jumpmaster, Dave, gets back in the plane and says he did great. My turn. I move up next to the door and feel a little nervous, but have no doubts. I did great before! No problem! Climb out, hang and let go! Oh shit.

Honestly, I only recall bits and pieces of this. Like in my vehicle rollover a couple of years ago…it just seemed as if flashes of thoughts hit me, but otherwise it was all a blur. I recall reaching down to pull, the pilot chute was ROL at that time, and then the next thing I know, I’m tumbling this way and that. I know I must be flailing about but I can’t seem to get myself stable and where the hell is the parachute?! Then finally, a hard yank and it’s finally opening! I look up and see the risers are twisted in a weird sort of way and the slider is flapping loudly. I pull my toggles, praying that it won’t be a problem and the canopy will be flyable. All seems fine. All I can think is….I want down. I’m so incredibly angry with myself. I screwed it up! I’m going to have to go back in the progression now! I don’t want to be held back!! I notice a pretty nasty scrape on my arm which I don’t feel at all right now.

Here’s my jumpmaster’s account what happened during that tumble. Dave told me that I’d pulled my pilot chute forward, in front of me (exactly as he’d explained on the ground just before we went up NOT to do) and apparently had been trying to grab it and pull it off as it wrapped around me. Of course, I have no body position at all during this struggle, just making matters worse. During this pulling and tumbling, the closing pin wiggled out and the main canopy finally deployed, unwinding the pilot chute from my arm as if I were a yo-yo. When it snapped open, I flipped up through the risers, causing that weird twist. Also, during my fall, Merrick heard the owner and instructor yelling over the radio, “Pam pull! Pull!!” I didn’t hear any of it. They thought I’d forgotten to pull as they watched me from the ground continue to fall.

After landing, Dave, who’d made it down before me, talked to Merrick and asked him to stay back until he could see if I was okay. In retrospect, I think a lot of my anger came from fear more then anything. It just hadn’t registered yet how dangerous that whole jump could have been. I was scared, discouraged and frustrated. Everyone was wonderful, reassuring me that every jump is a learning experience and you never go backwards as long as you continue to learn.

I have a nice scar on my arm that will forever remind me whenever I jump to never lose respect or take for granted what I’m doing.