A 1 hour drive at 7 in the morning got me to Picton for an 8 oclock date with a small white and blue plan. The entire morning had taken a chilly approach with the temperature in the sky (from wher we were jumping from) plummeting down to -1.
There was no safety breifing, no mock jump or even a this is what will happen. Just 'lean back and don't forget to breath'.
In the plane I was trying to take my mind off everything when suddenly the doors opened and 2 people fell out of it. 'Fuck!'
The guy I was firmly attached to started yelling at me to shuffel forward towards the door so I did but when I got there everyone else in the plane had vanished. 'Fuck! I thought again. This is not how I saw myself dyeing. I really should have had breakfast before killing myself.
'Look around' The guy strapped to my back yelled at me. OK why not, I got nothing else to do to stall for time so I had a bit of a gander at what the world looks like at 14000 feet up.
But no warning, the bastard pushes me out. Panic amd a longing for Tequila set in then the fear vanishes when you realize you are flying.
'Weeeeeeeee! (in a manly way)
I've so got to do that again.
Had breakfast after that and then lay in the park.
The Bacon was good.