Skydiving?

Do you have any idea how many people died skydiving in 2008? 58... How many since 2004? 322... yet people still decide to do it, myself included. Why don't we call it what it is, "sky-plummeting"? Isn't skydiving just a suicide-like activity in which a person jumps out of a plane and releases a parachute in hopes that it will reduce his rate of descent below a bone-crushing threshold before he makes contact with the earth? Almost three years ago, I went skydiving for the first time, for my friend Steve's 18th birthday. There were six of us: Preston, Steve, Bo, Blake, Morgan, and myself.
Was I excited? Oh ya... Was I terrified? Partially... My nerves were actually doing pretty good until I started to fill our the application. The very last section before the signature had these instructions: Rewrite this sentence word for word. "I UNDERSTAND THAT THERE ARE INHERENT RISKS INVOLVED WITH SKYDIVING, INCLUDING DEATH, AND I RELEASE SKYDIVE UTAH FROM ANY AND ALL RESPONSIBILITIES AND LIABILITIES." I was working at a law office at the time, and I remember thinking, "I wonder if this would hold up in court...". After signing away my life and dropping some coin and before any of us chickened out, they had us in our "jump-suits"... I was just hoping it wouldn't become my "he died in this suit"... After getting dressed for perhaps the last time, they had us scrawled out on the ground, on some weird contraption practicing our back arch. We were told that if we failed to perform this menuever correctly that our back could snap and we'd fold up like a taco shell. (At least I wouldn't have to worry about the landing right?). Death is a very good motivator. Most of the time when somebody says, "Do this or die" I do it...and I do it as well as I possibly can.
Soon thereafter we boarded the plane... Our plane had a sliding fiberglass door. Weird? I thought so. Before I knew it, we were circling over Ogden. Obviously my heart was starting to beat a little faster, my breathing a little more frequent. I don't remember, but I'm sure I had to pee. After we ascended to our jumping altitude of 13,000 feet, a little red light went on inside the cabin and we were told it was D-Day, time to jump. Oh, I forgot to mention one glaring detail. This whole flight I had a dude strapped to my back, pelvis to pelvis... Every movement had to be perfectly choreographed...
As we neared the open door, he asked me if I wanted to do a flip when we jumped out. At the time, I had never even done a flip off a diving board at the swimming pool. I consented...
With a 1-2-3, we barreled out the plane, flipping end over end. A common misconception about skydiving is that it feels like "The Rocket" at Lagoon, that stomach in your throat kind of a feeling. Wrong... It feels more like flying, more like "Soarin' Over California." It may be the single most awesome feeling/experience I've had in my life. We free fell for about a minute before he pulled the parachute. I've never been so happy to see neon fabric in my life. After a few more minutes of semi-peaceful/painful wedgy free floating, we came in for our landing. My instructions were to stick my legs straight out. We landed without incident. (Only later would I discover how lucky I was...) The experience was a blast...and low and behold, almost exactly a year later, we did it again. Only this time we exchanged Bo for Rachel Clark.
I'm giving props right now to Rachel Clark. She's amazing. I know she hates it when people say she's like "one of the guys" (rightfully so), so I won't say that; but I will say that she has more "balls" than Bo... Bo was afraid of "death" or something...whatever right? (I'm gonna take some heat for this. Bo, I'm kidding...you had already proved yourself...and in retrospect, I should've followed your lead.) This time went pretty much like the first...all the way up until the landing. As you know, my first attempt at defying the laws of gravity and resulting death was without incident. This was not the case when I tried again. As before, when we approached landing, his instructions were to lift my legs parellel to the ground. I though, "Ya ya, I'm not a rookie." We hit the ground perfectly, not bad at all. I started to turn around (as best I could strapped to another human being) and congratulate him on the landing. Little did I know I was just seconds away from being thrown the ground by a gust of wind. Apparently it is someones job to grab the semi-inflated parachute once the tandem team lands; this is basic Skydiving Assistance 101. Maybe the guy that had that responsiblity had decided he'd done enough for the day and he was gonna humiliate me. Mission accomplished. As I said, me and my instructor were hurled to the ground, face first. Although, I must admit, my instructor had me to break his fall. We (I), the proceeded to be drug through a dirt field, with my face and mouth taking the brunt of it. Once we were finally able to stop our skid and stand up (with the parachute safely in tow) I proceeded to spit up and cough out mouthfuls of dirt. Of course everyone was laughing at me, and I admit it was funny. I just never thought that my biggest injury while skydiving that day would've come after skydiving. And bytheway, 32% of all skydiving deaths occur while landing...it doesnt' surprise me.

The mountain was angry that day my friend...

Several months ago I did one of the best/funniest/stupidest things I've ever done. It ranks right up there with the time I decided to flip off a guy on the freeway. I went hiking/on a death march with Rachel Clark and one of her friends, Jordan Rasband.We were going to hike Timpanogus, not to the caves, to the actual mountain peak. I expected it to be about a five hour hike, nothing too bad. I'm in good shape right? I've heard stories of people doing it in the night, so I figured it wasn't going to be that bad…If I only knew. We began our journey through hell at seven in the morning. After about two hours, I get up the nerve to ask how much farther. The response would b

urn in my ears, "We're about an 8th of the way." I almost crapped my pants, but alas, I kept hiking. By about 10:30 we reached "Emerald Lake", which is actually only a glorified pond.

I assumed we were almost to the top…wrong. We then proceeded to hike through what we dubbed the "Valley of Rocks.” Imagine walking for about an hour through a solid field of rocks: MASSIVE rocks, and little tiny ones. As if we weren’t having enough of an adventure already, I kid you not, we came across mountain goats! Are you kidding me?! We had to stop for a little bit to let them cross the trail so we wouldn't die by pronging. The goats then walked across the cliffs above us, causing rocks to fall below...near the trail...near my head (which I use more often than you'd think). After we survived several close encounters, we made it to the "saddle". It is basically where two mountains come together and it looks like a saddle. It was awesome! We could see all of Utah County on one side and the Heber Valley on the other. The moment was soon seriously weakened by strong and cold winds. I was not prepared for this. I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. I soon began to freeze. (This is a story for another time, but when I get cold, my muscles be gin to shake and quiver. It's quite a sight) Here I am 12,000 feet up and the wind is blowing like a mad woman... Was our adventure over? Nay, I say, it had only just began. We then had to hike along cliffs in order to reach the true summit. We finally reach the true summit. We write our name in the little shack, spit some sunflower seeds and res. Then we get this crazy/awesome/stupid idea to slide down the glacier. We've asked around and no one dares to do it, apparently they knew much more than us. We finally reach the glacier. The task was daunting, but we’re invisible teenagers right? I decided to wear my plastic garbage bag like a diaper, poking two leg holes. I then decide to see what happens...bad idea...I begin sliding down this ice slide of a glacier and I can't stop. I'm seriously flying, I would estimate I was going about 25-30 miles an hour. There are huge rocks that I'm trying to avoid (I discovered I am a poor ‘avoider’) I'm catching some sick air. I'm trying desperately to stop, but to no avail. I'm digging my feet in, trying to grab anything with my hands...not a chance.

I've heard people mention that their lives flashed before their eyes, now I believe it happens. After a very terrifying minute of terror, I finally got myself stopped. Disaster avoided right? Oh no… I was only roughly half way down this sucker. (It is a REALLY big glacier...imagine the steepest, longest sledding hill...filled with rocks...big ones.) I'm lying on my back wondering if I'm dead. I finally came to my senses and sat up. Rachel and Jordan were screaming down at him, I managed to give the “I’m alive” signal. After that little episode, we decided that the whole garbage bag idea was a poor one. We then basically crawled down the mountain on our hands and knees, in shorts, without gloves. We literally could not feel out hands, and for several days afterwards it felt like needles every time we touched anything. We finally made it off the glacier and then the reality hit us. We still had to hike for another 4 hours to get down. We reached the cars at about 6:00, we hiked for roughly 11 hours.

All in all, even though we almost died (and several times wished I had) the hike was a blast and worth it. Although, I’m not sure I’ll be doing it again anytime soon. I still have the scars to remind me, until they fade, I think I’ll just watch Man vs. Wild instead of living it.

The Parable of the Video Store...

Parable [par-uh-buhl]. noun.
1. a short allegorical story designed to illustrate or teach some truth, religious principle, or moral lesson.
2. a statement or comment that conveys a meaning indirectly by the use of comparison, analogy, or the like.

I went to the video store to rent a movie. I was in the mood for one of those great movies; something like The Dark Knight, or Legends of the Fall, or The Departed. I had seen all these movies before and enjoyed my time with them. As I searched the NEW RELEASES and DRAMA sections, I found nothing... I decided that rather than wondering aimlessly through the aisles like a loser, I'd ask. I was informed of the tragic news, all the "good" movies had been checked out. Naturally, I asked when they'd be returned. The bundle of happiness and self-motivation that is a video store clerk replied, "In about two years."
Devastated, I began my search again. I'd have to find something to hold me over until then. The only movie available was From Justin to Kelly. (IMDB ranking of 1.8)
I've been watching it for the last year and half, only six months to go until the good movies come back.

"A single step..."

After much deliberation and searching of my soul, I'm throwing my hat in the ring...thus, I blog.
My story begins in a small village in Switzerland, several hundred years ago. In those days, people lived and died within their small mountain village. One fateful day there was a rather large avalanche that swept through a village. When news arrived to a neighboring village, they came to offer assistance and help the people rebuild their lives. After several days of search and rescue, they found no survivors among the carnage. They began to tire and begin the journey home. By God's great grace, someone stumbled upon a basket, containing a small child. They named the child Abplanalp, meaning "Lone Survivor of the Alps"...