Highway To The Danger Zone

Would you live forever...

...if all it took was to reset your life?


I won a book during Xmas (yeah...Xmas with the Heck's can get a little strange...sometimes we win stuff, sometimes we hide stuff...but we always end up marching and singing), which I ended up giving to my mom (due to it's extremely high estrogen-related content). While waiting for my turn to open a present I quickly read the summary on the back page, which basically said something along the lines of: "three women meet a gypsy and are given the chance to go back and re-live any three weeks in their life...blah blah blah."

Which got me thinking...

If you could live your life, and at any given point had the option to go back in time and re-live it all over again (without any memories carried over), would you?

At first when I thought of the idea it seemed like who wouldn't. But then quickly I pictured a child with porpoise arms and a drooling face, and figured he probably wouldn't want to. Or...at least I wouldn't want to if I was him.
The other problem I was having was taking into consideration all the weak people in the world. Not to point fingers, but for starters I think it's safe to assume that hundreds of thousands of people that use religion as a scapegoat to all the problems in their miserable lives- would be pretty quick to jump the gun on this. (I'm also quite sure if we had this capability, the need for religion would be nearly obsolete).
The minute someone had a bad day would they say, "Fuck it." and reset their life? Thus missing out on a winning lottery ticket that one bad day may have potentially resulted in.
Or perhaps while laying on your death-bed at 95 years-old, next to your healthy 80 year-old wife, you chose to reset your whole happy life. Only to miss out on the moment the nurse was about to walk in with a miracle contraption that would preserve your memories, which could then be uploaded into another perfectly healthy, and young, cloned human body.

I suppose that's the greatest challenge to this theory...is it worth waiting your life out to see what's going to happen? Or would you be content with forgetting the whole thing even happened and just start over.

How long do you wait it out?

These are the types of things I think about when I'm forced to wait to open my presents.


September 22, 2008
---------------------------

Someone made the mistake of mentioning the word "skydiving" around the newly formed Adventure Club. (Originally started while working on a show a couple months ago, during "The Longest Journey.")

The following took place in San Diego, proceeding an attempt to eat a 12-egg omlette:


We drove out into the middle of nowhere, about 10 miles from the Mexico border.


Where we signed many legal documents agreeing that skydiving was, basically, a bad idea.


In fact, we were even forced to watch an extremely old video tape of a lawyer telling us that what we were about to do was mindlessly dangerous, and whatever the consequences of the day may be- their company would not be held responsible.


We participated in what was approximately a 5 minute training course on how to correctly fall out of a plane...


...and then were assigned licensed professionals onto whom we'd be strapped to while shoved out of said plane.


We would free-fall for 15 seconds from 13,000 ft., reaching a terminal velocity of roughly 120 mph (the human standard), then gently glide via parachute landing in this small grass field.

And basically...that's all there really is to skydiving.

The whole process seemed to happen very quickly, to me at least. From the time I was sat down to sign waivers, to the time I was sitting in a small plane on a runway in a surprisingly sparse body harness, there was little to no time to really second guess the whole operation.
Before I knew it we were on a bumpier than usual airplane ride high above the hills around us. I'm not usually a huge fan of turbulence, especially while sitting next to a gaping hole in the aircraft, but found myself remarkably un-phased by it. Most likely from the comfort of having a parachute close-by.
The ground faded away until recognizable objects such as cars and buildings became shiny reflective specks. The terrain started to take on a form so flat that it might as well have been a bland painting done by an amateur art student.
It was obvious that the people around me were getting nervous, but I can honestly say that not once during the whole process did it cross my mind that anything bad was going to happen. Because of this, I was barely phased by the process...if anything, just slightly excited to get out of the rickety plane.
Just as quick as everything else had been happening, the side of the plane, comprised of a sliding plexiglas door, was thrown open. A strong warm breeze rushed into the plane. Within seconds I found myself standing on the edge of the plane, staring down at the what-seemed fake ground, preparing to rock back and forth 3 times (as in training) and then falling out. I started to rock back then forwards.

One.

Two.

I'm not in the plane.

There's the ground.

Now I'm spinning backwards.

There's the plane.

There's the ground again.

We're falling towards the ground now...no longer spinning, just facing down.

I thought we were going to count to three. That fucker.

I wonder if anyone else got a surprise back-roll from their instructor.

Oh yeah. I'm falling.

Huh. It's surprisngly warm.

The mountains look gorgeous. (They were a shade of pink from the sunset)

The sun setting over the ocean looks amazing.

It doesn't seem like I'm falling. It's too quiet. Oh...well I guess it's actually really loud...it just sounds like wind.

I'm surprised my stomach didn't drop or anything. I can't believe how easy it is to breathe.

Wow. It's so....beautiful out.

The grounds getting slightly closer. It's so weird to see it from above, unobstructed.

I can't believe how pretty everything looks from up here.

Man, I could fall asleep like...

'WHOOSH'

Oh yeah. The parachute. Huh...I figured it was going to hurt more than that. That didn't hurt at all.

Aw. I miss falling.

The view while parachuting was pretty amazing, but the sensation wasn't as relaxing as just falling. The instructor started yanking the handles to the sides, spinning us and dropping us a hundred feet or so.
"Do you like rollercoasters!?" he screamed.
"Yeeeup!"

So he continued to twist and dive us a couple more times.

I still couldn't believe how quiet everything was.

"See that over there!" he shouted at me.
"Yeah!?"
"That's the border of America and Mexico. Right now, you have the same view as a map!"

Huh. So that's what an international border looks like. It's strikingly similar to State border ;)

Pretty soon everything on the ground was getting very recognizable. For the first time in the whole experience it actually seemed like we were high up. I suppose because things started to look "real."

I was a little nervous during the landing, it seemed like we were comin' in hot. But he pulled back and slowed us down right before we touched down. Then we just kinda' skidded across the ground to a stop.


All of us gliding through the sky.

I attempted to make animated .GIFs of the following, but for some reason they wouldn't play correctly once uploaded to this site. And honestly, I'm not going to waste more than 15 minutes trying to figure out why a mid-90's web-sensation gimmick won't work on my blog.

(click here for soundtrack to following pictures)









Jeff touched down first.

Notice the lack of helmet...they aren't known to help to much when you fall from 13,000 ft.







Steve, and what was left of his ripped pants.

Note that Steve landed before I did, yet left the plane after me. We didn't land in the order we left the plane, I'm assuming it was a combination of our aerodynamics and amount of time gliding/diving with the parachutes.











Chris. (His instructor has sweet flames on his suit)









Zak.









Myself. (My instructor had sweet dreads)










Sarah.












Valerie.


Adventure Club.
(Don't fahget yaaaa' hahness!)


A couple more of these bad boys and I can dive alone!

Q. "So was skydiving scary?"

A. No.
To me the only description that seems fitting, is "zen-like." The quietness of it, the gorgeous landscape, the feeling of weightlessness, and the warm breeze combined to make what was one of the most relaxing, meditiation-esque, experiences I've ever had. There wasn't once a single negative thought resembling "what if something goes wrong." I was so taken in by the experience that by the time I would have be able to have those thoughts, I was already gliding to the ground with the parachute.
I think the only potentially scary part, for the majority of people, would be when you're about to jump out of the plane. But there's so much going on at that point, that even if you were concerned about it, you're probably being distracted by everything else going on. Plus, the ground is so far away that it doesn't really register as a real distance- to me it was much like looking out the window of a commercial plane.

I would do it again in a heartbeat. I'm sure I will too, just to try it in different locations with different landscapes.

This is something I honestly recommend to anyone who is reading this. The whole experience was the exact opposite of scary.


September 29, 2008
----------------------------

A week after skydiving the Adventure Club was frothing at the mouth for another experience. Either that, or because we had somehow acquired a form of human rabies.
Jeff had came across some information of a bridge to hike to, Northeast of LA, that you can bungee jump off of.
Once learning it was in fact named the "Bridge to Nowhere," we were pretty much sold on the whole idea.

I'll let the rest tell the story for me...




Derek.


Valerie.


Steve.


Chris.


Jeff.


Palmer.

A vague recollection of what happened:
The hike to the bridge was beautiful, albeit...4 miles (each way) on a very cold day. When we had arrived we all naturally went to look over the ledge. Much like with skydiving, it was a far enough distance down that it seemed almost two-dimensional to me. A mere matte painting of a rocky river.
There was a lot of waiting around. I suppose this could potentially psyche someone out alone, yet then again maybe watching everyone do it makes it seem easier? Either way I don't remember my attitude changing in any direction, I felt excited and not the least bit of hesitation.

(Although the videos were cut together as one jump each, those were actually combined angles from two separate jumps. We all had done one jump facing forward, and one falling backwards.)

Cut to- putting on the harness and stepping out onto the platform.

This was quite a bit different from skydiving as well. Instead of being at the mercy of someone strapped to your back shoving you out of a plane, this was solely done on your own terms. No doubt in my mind that if given enough time on the platform to assess what you're about to do, you'd have a MUCH harder time carrying through with it.
I glanced down a couple times, but had already seen this view ad nauseum while hanging out on the bridge for a few hours. What happened next is a blurred memory. Not because of the time that has lapsed since I did it, it was a blurred memory immediately after I had done it. This effect on the brain's memory, where events are intentionally forgotten or "blurrey", is called trauma. Skydiving's trauma (for me) was ONLY the initial jump out of the plane. Bungee jumping's trauma (for me) was the whole jump, including everything until I was back on the bridge standing on my feet.
I remember looking at the cliff across from me while counting down. I remember pushing off with my legs. I remember soaring out towards the cliff, stomach flat to the ground below me. I remember seeing the plants on the cliff, a vivid green. Feeling like eventually I would be able to touch them. I remember suddenly dropping. As if someone hit me with a broom mid-flight, causing me to hurtle towards the ground. I remember the wind being knocked out of me. And the strongest of all these memories- I remember seeing an enormous rock below me accelerating towards my face.
The ONLY other memory I have, was after I had bounced back up (after the first drop). Upon peaking out on my acent, I remember thinking, "Wow. That was crazy." Completely forgetting that I was going to be dropping again.

That drop scared the shit out of me.

This was NOTHING like skydiving.

As I've already said, all the bouncing around, all the swinging, attaching the winch-line to my harness and getting pulled back up. Climbing back onto the bridge. Those are all fragments of memory at best.

The second jump, falling backwards, I remember even less of. I just remember that the short minute inbetween the two jumps I was contemplating if I really wanted to do that again. I felt that it was fun, really fun, but I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to jump again...knowing the sensation it was going to cause.
I couldn't quite place my finger on what my hesitation was, until I had thought long and hard about it on the hike back.
It took a long time to figure it out. I LIKE the sensation of gut-dropping free-fall. I LIKE the rush of doing potentially dangerous things. It was similar to skydiving, in that there was the feeling of weightlessness on and around my body, which I LOVE.

I wasn't afraid the chord wasn't going to catch. I wasn't afraid I was going to die. And I'm certainly not afraid of heights.

For a while I thought maybe it was because I could make out the ground. It was real. Exactly like towards the end of the skydive when our parachute brought us closer to the ground. Maybe I was uncomfortable because I actually knew I was falling towards a tangibal surface.
But still...I also knew I wasn't afraid of hitting that surface.

It finally dawned on me that it was the up-ward motion of the bungee chord. The feeling of helplessness that it induces. When you snap back up it slows way down, to a point where you are extremely aware that you are in mid-air, but you have nothing to hold or grab onto. There is no force pushing against, or pulling on, your body.
Why would that be any different from the skydive free-fall though?
Because I was dis-oriented.

During skydiving you are looking around you. You know where you are. You have plenty of time to assess the situation and take it all in.
Bungee (the chord) is so sporatic that you rarley know what's going to happen at any given moment. Your body just feels like a ragdoll being tossed around.

Bungee jumping is NOT something I would recommend to everyone. It is NOT relaxing. It is NOT "zen-like" in any sense. It's the type of thing you should do if you enjoy rollercoasters, haunted houses, and experimenting with drugs.

(I really want to emphasize that skydiving is not remotely scary in any sense. There's not even a gut-dropping moment because you are jumping out of a moving object, you are moving sideways at the same speed as the plane for quite a few moments, then slowly arching downwards.)

Without continuing to repeat myself, that's pretty much all I have to say on the experience. With that said, here are some bad-ass photos Don took, as well as a Bonus Feature bungee outtake video.










Outtakes.

October 12, 2008
-----------------------


Running out of ideas of how to stare death in the face, while fist-fucking his mom, we decided to just go to Sea World.
As usual, we probably shouldn't be allowed to hang out together in public.


Not only did we defile Sea World single-handily on our own.



Valerie's friends insisted on turning every trick-or-treat aspect of the Halloween decorate amusement park, into a world of sexual innuendos.


My favorite of which would be the "fruity cum-shot in your mouth" candy.

The only thing I really have to say about Sea World is that the whole park itself is a whale-sized disappointment.

BUT

The dolphin and orca whale shows were insanely awesome.

I'm not sure how that averages together.

It was crazy to see how high the dolphins could jump. And how fast they swim when they really want to get going (not the leisurely swim you usually see on National Geographic). Especially considering they are about the size of a human.
It really makes me want to get one for a pet.

As far as the orcas go. Wow.

WOW.

Before the show we walked over to their individual holding "tanks." The whales were floating with their noses peaking above the surface, and the rest of their body diagonally dropping downwards, which they were being sprayed with warm water.
It was insane to see the whale just sitting still. They were enormous. If I EVER see one when I'm in the water I will shit my pants (or wetsuit, depending on the situation). There is NO reason any living thing should be that big. Let alone, in the water where it has a billion times more control than I do.
They were just....gigantic.

It blew my mind.

For the show we sat front row (pretty much alone because it was a cold day and no one wanted to get wet). You could see the whales switching out in-between tricks (yes...there's more than one) by jetting out of these tunnels built into the bottom of the gi-normous water tank.
They would come hauling-ass out of these tunnels at what looked to be about 40 mph, the shear mass of them causing waves...even when they were 60 ft. deep!

There was one point where the whale came up under a trainers feet, breached into the air with her standing on it's nose, then dove back down with her laying stiff out in front of it. It swam underwater at top speed, her feet still being pushed by it's nose, and then rocketed her upwards back out of the water into the air.

I have no idea how you train something that large. And I certainly have no idea how you train something that large to do THAT trick. It is beyond me.

All I know is...I want that job now.