Rizz goes round the world

And continued some more...

The Dive:

When we boarded the bus again after our adventures in the Bushman Centre, LJ got on the microphone and let Cheryl, Barbara and me know that the skydive was a go. Ready or not, here I jump! We drove a bit further and LJ dropped the 3 of us planning to do the dive on a corner in the middle of nowhere. Literally. It was surreal. Keri was there from Skydive NZ to drive us first into the Franz Josef township to pick up a Chinese couple who would also be jumping, and then out to Fox Glacier, where our plane would be taking off to carry us up 12,000 feet before opening its door and releasing us.

Keri, in a very soothing voice, informed us of the basics on our ride out, pausing every once in a while for Phyllis, who spoke English, to translate for her boyfriend, who did not speak English and who was very nervous. We pulled off the road into a dirt driveway and up to an airplane hangar, where I spotted our plane outside. It was absolutely tiny. The "office" was one small room, with, fortunately, a bathroom attached. At least I'd lessen the risk of peeing my pants on the way down. Behind the office, in the same building, were 3 or 4 bedrooms. Surrounding this building were another 3 or 4 trailers. The people who work at Skydive NZ don't live in the township. They're gypsies of a different type, coming into Fox Glacier when the weather is good to live in their trailers or small rooms, sharing the one bathroom, throwing themselves out of planes with people attached to them, and then going back home when the weather's not good. Not a bad life. Sign me up!

So we walked into the office, suited up in our very sexy red and black jumpsuits, and worked out who'd be jumping when. The plane could only accomodate two tandem jumpers at a time. Phyllis and her boyfriend would be going first, followed by me and Barbara, and then Cheryl, who'd be jumping with the owner's 11-year-old son (not as her tandem; he'd just be going with her since there were only 5 people jumping that day). The owner's son would be doing his 23rd skydive that day. He first dived when he was 4. Not a bad life.

Rod went through explaining precisely the process that we'd be following, again pausing for Phyllis to translate. By now Phyllis's boyfriend was very nervous. He only wanted to jump from 9,000 feet and was concerned about not being able to breathe. I was glad that I was somehow nowhere near as nervous.

Cheryl, Barbara and I waited outside while the other 2 boarded the plane and took off. We followed the plane in the sky for a while, then could only hear it as it went above the clouds. Rod was outside with us. I asked him if anyone had ever passed out on the way down. He said yes, but for no longer than 20 seconds. Oh, that's good. Then I asked him if anyone had ever thrown up. He said yes, and I laughed as I got an image of a farmer in the fields with his sheep, getting rained on by puke descending from the heavens. Imagine if he looked up and got blinded. Wouldn't that be an awful way to lose your sight? Anyway, the next thing we spotted was Phyllis and her boyfriend, floating down in their parachutes. It looks like they both decided to jump from 12,000 feet afterall! Good for him, but... holy crap they're high up!

We heard the plane draw near, and next thing I knew, down the runway it came. I took a deep breathe. Here we go. Rod, who'd be jumping with me, helped me into my harness, and we walked out to the plane. I practiced hanging out of the plane, curled into a banana with my feet under the bar and my arms crossed at my chest, had a pre-boarding interview for my DVD, and into the plane we squeezed. Literally. The only seat in there was the pilot's. Barbara, her tandem jumper, and Rod and I huddled on the floor. I was sitting right next to the see-through door. The ground was rushing away below the plane outside until, suddenly, we were up in the air. That was the only point at which my stomach rose into my throat, but it quickly went back to where it was supposed to be, and I took a deep breath and decided to focus on the scenery. Somehow, I found some meditative power within myself to stay calm and collected. Every once in a while I'd get worried about peeing my pants on the way down, or I'd notice my blood pressure rise a bit, but for the most part I happily looked around at the scenery--Mt. Cook! Fox Glacier! How could you not be blown away?-- knowing that it was silly to worry about anything, as it was all outside of my control anyway.

We got to 9,000 feet. It was time to put the videocamera away, tuck the digital camera into my jumpsuit, and don the lovely cap and goggles. The (very handsome) pilot gave the thumbs up, letting us know we'd arrived at 12,000 feet. And then. The door opened. No turning back now. The wind blew past furiously. How in the world would I be able to push my feet out into that resistance? Well, here we go. All I need to do is put one foot out at a time. That's all. I won't think of anything past that, let's just slide my legs out. First the right. Ok, it's over the edge. Now the left. Ok, my feet are out. Rod twisted his body with mine and pushed himself to the edge. And there I was, dangling, nothing below me but 12,000 feet of empty space and nothing affixing me to the plane but my harness, attached to Rod. I dangled for what felt like an eternity, as Rod got the camera out, took a bit of footage, and I posed a bit for the camera attached to the wing. I looked out at the mountains, then down towards Earth. It wasn't a question of whether I could do it or not. I had no choice in that matter. The only thing I was feeling in that eternal yet brief moment was, "What is this going to feel like?" I knew I'd find out in a matter of seconds. Dangling into the unknown like that, literally, with no idea of what to expect next, is a very odd sensation. My only other concern was that feeling I hate, of my stomach in my throat and not being able to breathe. Would that happen?

And then. Rod slipped off the edge and away we tumbled, doing somersaults out of the plane. The ground was above me, then below, I spotted the plane as it zoomed off. And what did I feel? Nothing but the purest, most unadulterated joy I've ever felt in my whole life. No exaggerating. There was no stomach in the throat, I could breathe fine. And I was happy. So happy! I grinned like a kid at Christmas the entire way down, staring at the ground below us, then the mountains in front of us, feeling the wind rush past my ears. It was amazing.

Too soon the parachute opened. There's nothing like that rush of the freefall I'd just felt, but the second stage of skydiving, though completely different in nature, is equally amazing. After a bit of a jerk when the 'chute opened, we drifted peacefully downward. Everything was quiet and calm, especially when juxtaposed with the speed and noise of the freefall. I took my camera out of my jumpsuit, and snapped a shot or 2 as Rod pointed out everything around us: Fox glacier, the mountains, a lake, the Tasman Sea, rainforest... Skydiving at Fox Glacier is supposedly the second most beautiful place to jump in the world. I'll have to do it again, because the first time I was so excited that I wasn't able to really soak everything in.

Down we drifted. I watched as Barbara jumped out above us, Rod let me steer the parachute, we spun around a bit... Then, again, too soon, the ground drew closer and closer. I drew my legs up into a pike, and we landed sitting. Keri was there to pick us up. She and Rod helped unhook me, I got up, gave Barbara a hug, gave Rod a hug, took some pictures, gave my post-dive interview for my DVD, gushing like a little kid. I was ready to do it again. Alas, we had to pack up the parachutes and head back to base.

When we got back, Cheryl was still preparing outside the plane. I shouted to her that it was amazing, watched her take off, and then went to watch my DVD as it was being edited. The guy who did the editing for the videos, a young guy, had a cane and a limp, and his leg was bandaged. Apparently he'd gone out hunting with a friend and his friend had accidentally shot him in the leg. Oops.

By this point, the adrenaline rush along with the air pressure was worsening that headache I'd woken up with in the morning, and had turned it into a full-fledged migraine. Silent and trying my hardest not to vomit, I headed back into Franz Josef with the others. I knew I needed some food desperately, and some chocolate, if I didn't want to be miserable the rest of the night. So I headed to the grocery store with Cheryl and Barbara. As soon as I walked in, who did I spot in line? Why, none other than my partner in fate, Tamas--remember? I'd first met him in Wellington. And guess what? He'd jumped that morning, and had tandemed with the same guy I had, Rod. How funny can fate be sometimes? We met up later that night to relive our experiences over hot chocolate, one of the few times we've actually successfully hung out after planning to do so, and then, all adrenaline-rushed out, it was early to bed for me. After all, I had a glacier to climb the next day!


Franz Josef Day 2:

After jumping out of a plane, a glacier hike seemed like cake. Although I must admit I was slightly frightened I wouldn't be in adequate shape for it after having spoken to a girl in Auckland: Natalie, from Minnesota (Out of the 7 or 8 Americans I've met so far, 4 have been from Minnesota. Guess they just want to get the hell out.) Natalie, younger than I and thin, warned me about how exhausting the full-day hike was and advised me to do the 3/4 day one. I followed her advice. Honestly, I should have just done the full day one. It was cake. It took about an hour to actually hike out to the glacier, and as we strapped on our cramp-ons (I was the first to get them on properly! Are you proud, Dad?), our guide, Kate, warned us that the next 45 minutes would be a sheer vertical climb up the terminal face, and told us to not worry if we felt our lungs were about to explode. Once we got past the terminal face, things would get much easier.

Well, my lungs didn't explode. I don't think I even got out of breath. I'd like to say it's because I'm so in shape now after having carried my too-heavy backpack around so much, but it was a universal opinion that the climb up the face of the glacier had been pretty tame. Once we got up the face, we only had about an hour and a half, including lunch, to explore the more beautiful blue ice. We had some fun shuffling through crevasses (sp?) and sliding down worm holes, but I would have liked to spend more time up there. So, word of advice for anyone heading to NZ sometime during this lifetime: just do the full-day hike. If I can do it, you can too.

Oh yeah, the cold front that was supposed to arrive yesterday (but that waited so that I could jump out of a plane) was finally on its way through, and the skies were overcast and threatening all day. The rain held off for us, though, until right before we boarded the bus to go back into town. I'm telling you, karma's been good to me on this trip.

After some time in the sauna and the hot tub (who said backpackers had it tough??) we headed to the hostel's bar for some chocolate cake (hey, I'd hiked a glacier) and that backpacker staple, karaoke. Groups from a Stray bus and a Magic bus (two Kiwi competitors) were there as well. I am proud to say that our bus put everyone to shame. All 26 of us got up to sing Sweet Child of Mine, doing a push up instead of saying the word "mine" each time. It was a sight to behold. I also finally caught Pete, whose sole purpose of existence the past week had been getting people to say "mine". Ah, sweet revenge, as, much to his chagrin, he got down and gave me ten not once but twice. We were then entertained the rest of the night by an insane Australian girl who kept getting up and singing with people she didn't know, when it wasn't her turn, and dancing around the bar like a hippy at Woodstock on LSD, getting in the way of everyone playing pool and nearly lighting herself on fire from the fireplace. It was a good night.

Wanaka:

The next day, we departed for Wanaka. It was rainy and cold. I however chose to wear my flip flops on this day (Why? Who knows?) and promptly fell flat on my ass when my feet slipped from under me at our first bathroom stop. Of course.

Wanaka is a sweet little town, surrounded by a lake and beautiful mountains. People compare it to Queenstown 10 years ago--the scenery without the craziness. Unfortunately, it was too rainy to truly enjoy the surroundings, but no matter. Wanaka is home to a place called Cinema Paradiso, a movie theater with couches where you can order food and beer. Perfect! Some of us made a group meal of fajitas, and then we headed out in the rain to the Cinema.

Apparently, Wanaka being a small town, there is not much else to do on a rainy Sunday evening other than go to the Cinema. We couldn't even get in the door. Joey made her way to the desk to see if there were still tickets. There was a waiting list... Ok, nevermind. It was off to the bar and in front of the fire for us instead. I'll just have to add Cinema Paradiso to my list of things to come back and do.

posted by La Rizz @ 9:23 PM