Just A Wee Dive

The many faces of skydiving

Last Saturday was an awesome day. Around 8 in the morning my friend Aqleema picked up the slightly hungover version of me, and we started on our trek to Niagara.

Our mission – to jump out of a perfectly good plane. For me, this would be my third time skydiving. For Aqleema – her first.

As with most of my Aqleema-filled adventures, this one began with a visit to Starbucks for some go-go juice, and also some water for yours truly. Did I mention that I was slightly hungover?

The drive was uneventful, save for the side-splitting laughter, giddiness, and conversation that gracefully danced between high-brow intellectualism and low-brow shenanigans. So pretty much, it was the standard Dan/Aqleema fare.

We eventually arrived at our destination.

I was stoked. I love skydiving. The only thing I was concerned about was the aforementioned hangover. I had no idea how that might play into my jump. I figured as long as I didn’t vomit or soil myself I’d be alright. Fortunately for me and my tandem jump instructor, neither such event occurred.

As with all of my jumps so far, the anticipation is nothing in comparison to the joy of soaring through the sky. The feeling of flying is pure freedom. Seeing the earth through the eyes of a bird is stunning, and humbling, and breathtaking. To be honest, it’s impossible for me to do justice to the experience. All I can say is that I will do it again.

Aqleema jumped after me, and as she drifted towards the ground I could hear her screaming – the happy sort of scream. She totally kicked ass – especially for someone with a fear of heights. She’d never admit that she’s the type of person to face her fears, but I’ve got a list of examples to suggest that she does just that. Aqleema never fails to amaze me, and our skydiving adventure was no exception to the rule.

Thanks Aqleema for helping me knock yet another item from my Not So Bucket List list. Here’s to starting the summer in style. Here’s to crushing more adventures.


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