Lauren Wenz

The wind was so fierce it slapped my face; my feet whipped around 14,000 feet in the chilled air, my heart hammered against my chest, fear drenched every ounce of my being, and then it happened, I became entirely irrational, I lifted my butt from the safety of the plane floor, and jumped willingly into the blue sky.

In the fall of 2006, I made a decision that would utterly change my life. I had just turned 20 years old and I decided to take time off from school and travel Australia. My parents were not happy. My boyfriend, at the time, thought it was a fabulous idea and decided to come with me. Working as a waitress all summer gave me enough money to go for two months, living humbly of course. No fancy hotels, just hostels and cheap meals, but I was game. I bought my ticket and was off just three short weeks later. Venturing into the unknown, virtually by myself, for the first time in my life.

After a 16-hour flight from Los Angeles to Sydney, I landed feeling exhausted. I didn’t sleep a wink, too excited to explore down under. We started in Sydney, rented a car and made our way to Brisbane. Then we drove up the Gold Coast, the eastern coastline. When we arrived in the most easterly point, Byron Bay, we decided we might never leave. A small hippy town, surrounded by pristine coastline and relaxed happy people, Byron Bay is unlike any place I had ever been, yet at the same time it felt a little like San Clemente, which was home.

I decided since I was in a country I had never been to before, I would try as many new things as possible. I went scuba diving, surfing, snorkeling with sharks, hang-gliding; I even laid out in the sun… nude! But nothing could have prepared me for skydiving.

I was reading the local paper one morning, and came across an advertisement for Byron Bay Jumpers, a skydiving facility a few miles from town. With my newly discovered love for extreme sports I thought, excellent! My boyfriend was not exactly on board, and after I let him get out all his ranting, I dragged him with me.

We arrived early. The air was cool, maybe in the low 60’s. The day was crystal clear, as far as the eye could see. The sun was shining and the green grass was still holding morning’s dew. We met with the manager and discussed buying packages; I purchased pictures and a video of my jump for $500. It seemed steep at first, but then when I thought about it, I was paying for the quality of my equipment, my parachute, whose sole purpose was to open- to keep me alive. All of a sudden, $500 didn’t seem like that much money.

I met with my instructor, an Aussy bloke named Matt. He was really animated and talked so fast with such a thick accent I didn’t understand a single word he was saying. I just kept smiling and nodding, as he explained the procedure for our jump. He was talking as he was suiting me up. My mind started to go numb, I only heard about every other word he was saying.

“The plane… you jump… make sure… don’t forget… just stay calm… your body… especially your legs and hands… keep breathing… when we come in for the landing…”

What was I doing? What did he mean pay special attention to my legs and hands? Weren’t all my body parts important? Didn’t he care about all my body parts? I did, why did I want to hurl them out of a plane? My mind was racing as we were walking towards the plane. I just kept smiling and nodding. Why wasn’t I saying anything? I kept willing myself to talk but my lips couldn’t form words. I stepped into the plane and all of a sudden there was a video camera in my face.

“Say hello to Mom and Dad, Lauren! Say hello! Tell them you’re crazy to jump out of an airplane 14,000 feet high! OK, any last words? Say goodbye!” the cameraman said as he bounced in circles around me. Capturing every idiotic moment as I just waved to the camera, dumbstruck.

I thought about hitting him, I really did.

As the small plane filled with people I started to come out of my coma. I was in the very back with Matt behind me. He was strapping these buckles from the back of my suit to the front of his. I started to think of all the important people in my life. All of a sudden I had the strongest urge to tell Matt all my deepest darkest secrets. I didn’t even try to suppress that urge. I talked.

Like word vomit, all my skeletons came waltzing out of the closet. And for 10 very long minutes of Matt’s life, the small plane flew higher and higher into the sky as I talked faster and faster. Somewhere between my confessions of petty theft and experimenting with marijuana, Matt happily interrupted me to tell me it was time.

Someone opened the door and all of my warm nostalgic feelings literally were sucked out of me. A harsh deep growl was emanating from the doorway. It sounded like death. I took a deep breath as I watched the other pairs disappear.

“Oll rite, Loren, ya ready?” Matt asked in his thick accent.

“Ready?” I said it like it was a question.

He scooted us forward until my legs were dangling helplessly out of the plane. The wind was strong and it moved my whole body so I swayed. The cameraman was hanging out of the cockpit filming but I barely noticed. I was looking at the earth. It was so beautiful from a birds-eye view it took my breath away. At that moment I knew, I wanted to do this. Even if the worst happened, this moment was just too incredible to pass up.

My heart was thumping as I stared out into the heavens, the white clouds puffy and soft looking. I threw myself forward, and was jolted. Suddenly we were falling. Not just falling, we were being pulled upside down so fast my stomach was in my throat. I couldn’t tell which way was up and which way was down. I couldn’t breathe, the air was moving too fast to take into my lungs. I thought I was going to faint. Then the ground evened out and the sky was where it should have been, I took a deep breath. The wind was loud against my ears, but bearable. My body felt normal- well, better than normal. I felt like I was flying, not falling. I was entirely weightless. I couldn’t feel my own body weight. Matt grabbed my right hand with his right hand and steered us to the right, then the left. We spun around in large circles. The cameraman was doing laps around us and giving me the thumbs up. I was laughing and smiling and giving it right back. We just kept flying.

Time didn’t make any sense at all. It felt as if we were falling for an hour and a minute at the same time. Then to my surprise Matt screamed that I needed to pull the cord at my right hip. I automatically pulled and the chute opened. I felt like I was yanked straight up in a movement so hard it sent my stomach soaring. After a second everything evened out and we were just floating. It became quiet. I realized I was still smiling. Matt asked me if I had fun and all I could do was scream, but the good kind of scream. He screamed with me. After I was finished acting like a 5-year-old, he pointed out his favorite destinations in the area.

“Ovar there ees the lighthouse on the point…see it, Loren? And there,” he pointed in a new direction, “that’s where the sun risas everyday between the forast,” he said happily. As we slowly drifted down to the ground I looked at the rolling waves coming in toward the beach. The open fields had grass about 6 feet tall and when the wind would blow, all the grass would ripple, it looked like the ground was moving. Everything around me came to life. Everything was breathing, moving, living. I was so aware of everything external and internal. I could feel every inch of my body; it felt like all my nerves were buzzing. I felt alive.

We were about 20 feet away from the ground when I started to get nervous about the landing, but Matt was a pro and did everything for me. We came in so slowly that once we hit the ground we didn’t even have to step forward to catch our pace. My feet felt a little numb and it took a second for my body to catch up with my mind. I turned around hugged Matt and thanked him.

There are a lot of things in life that I am afraid of. Jumping out of a plane terrified me, until I actually did it. I would do it again in a heartbeat. I have never felt so alive. Traveling has taught me to open my heart and try new things. Even if you feel terrified, you’re braver than you think, and who knows…you might like it, too.