There is a funny comic that goes around every so often. I get it in my in-box, a lot, from friends who know me very well. 

There are hundreds of versions of the same funny and I like them all. It states something like this… “You are the friend who is NEVER on the way to come and help me when I’m down, you are the friend who NEVER sends bail money, and you are the friend who offers CARROTS to me on my birthday.

Just what kind of a friend are you anyway? You are the friend who comes sliding head first into the spot next to me with chocolate in her pocket, dragging the coat I left in the restaurant or bar. 

You are the friend who will always be sitting next to me hair all askew laughing at the least little provocation saying, “Wow that was fun. What do you want to next week-end?” 

HAHA Now that is the kind of friend I try to be and have been blessed to have next to me over and over and over again.

So when a great friend of mine recently asked me to go jump out of an airplane. Well of course without hesitation I said, to my friend’s surprise, something like, “What time do we leave?!” 

Not to go on and on about all the details but! Yes a high flying “but.” But I want to share with you the most recent of my escapades.

I jumped out of an airplane that was flying at 16,000 feet and 120 miles per hour above the Carson Valley and Lake Tahoe.

Well okay we flew over Lake Tahoe and on the return back to the Carson Valley I was gingerly scooted to the edge of the door, feet hanging out dangling in the 120 mile per hour breeze, with a very nice man securely harnessed to my back as he pushed me out into the wild blue yonder.

Holy cats and kittens Batman, it was nothing but amazing. Did I scream? Yes. Did I never want to land? Absolutely never. Would I go again? Oh baby in less than a heartbeat.

During the preflight ten minute schooling I was told blah, blah, blah harness put thumbs here and yaddity, yaddity arms out like this so we don’t spin out of control. 

Then and most important, cha, cha, cha, lift your legs as we come in to land or we will be surfing and you, meaning me, will become the surf board in the graveled landing zone.  

I did this jump as my birthday approached and with having some wonderful years upon my head I do not bend and lift my legs like say some young 29 year old might. No matter, so yes, yes I shook my head like any good school girl would. Thumbs, arms, legs. Got it.

Sometimes when drifting off to sleep I think almost everyone has had that falling out of control, jerk to attention feeling.

Well at the moment of truth when air came rushing into the cabin of the airplane there wasn’t enough time to feel that because before I knew it I was headed face first out into that moment of no return.

Before I could suck in a breath the breath was being sucked out of my face with a scream that topped any decibel level I could have achieved with both feet on the ground. I’ve checked my thesaurus and there really isn’t a word big enough, strong enough or happy enough to cover the five to seven minutes it took to come back to Mother Earth. Actually I don’t think my feet have touched the ground yet.

The “free fall” before the shoot is deployed lasted a mere fifty seconds. 

A wonderfully magical fifty seconds during which I forgot all about taking my thumbs out of the harness and putting  my hands out and arching my back and doing all the things I shook my head yes, yes to in the pre-jump instructions. 

The guy who was strapped to my back finally grabbed my hands and put them where they were supposed to be and I was really flying and squeaking. 

Then the shoot was opened. It was like someone put on the brakes and we were just floating. I had been told, “No matter what, you will eventually land on that round thing below.” Aka the earth. 

The landing was a very controlled crash. It was all my fault that I got a wonderful case of gravel rash on my shin and a few wonderful bruises to wear for posterity. Because I did become the surf board and I would so do it again.

Trina lives in Eureka, Nevada. Find her on Facebook, Instagram or at itybytrina@yahoo.com

     Really!