What is bungee jumping like?
Your heart pumps rapidly, your hands shake.
You're wearing this weird strappy harness thing, you feel it snug on your hips and over your shoulders. There's a dangling hook thing that flaps around while you wait.
You watch the crew prepares for our group. They're working with deliberate speed, running through each safety check as their jumper looks to them with their life. For the crew it's just another group jumper but they're voice is gentle and reassuring.
Somehow you're first in your group to jump. A pioneer of sorts. Hahaha. Lucky you. The crew member calls you up. Yanks on your harness on a few places, makes a few small adjustments and checks your hands. Your weight and jump number is marked on your hand in bright green. That number will help you find the video/photos of your jump in the gift shop later; if you survive.
Your heart pumps rapidly. The adrenaline is flowing.
The crew member seats you in chair reminds you of one of those chairs they use to deliver babies. Legs up. A rebirth?
You wonder will your wife be okay without me?
The crew member starts strapping all sorts of things to your feet. You sit there 3 feet from the ledge from where you're about to jump 134 meters to meet your death or your complete elation. You stare around looking at all the unfamiliar equipment, harnesses, carabiners, cables, wires, winches, and bungee. You notice the bungee is about 2.5 inch diameter of bundled rubber bands. My life is in that rubber band you think. The only thing that's gonna bring you back alive. Meanwhile the two-man crew is talking a back and forth to each other. One at my chair, the other manning the bungee. I'm not quite sure what he's doing. He hollers out to the other crew member, pointing to the red marker notes on my right hand. What is that he sais? They seem to be a bit confused. The other takes a look and sais "don't worry" it's just a different color.
Is this a ploy to make their jumpers even more anxious? Not sure. You decide to trust them. Do you have a choice?
You smile and look over at my wife, who's playing photographer. She's not jumping.
The crew member asks me to stand up from my chair. And you almost fall over backwards off the ledge as the chair is wobbly. A shot of adrenaline pumps through your veins; as if you needed more.
You stand up.
Your feet are bound together so you waddle over towards the ledge. It's a 1 foot by 1 foot little metal square ledge that extends from the platform. There's a piece of grip tape on the edge, the kind that you used to use on your skate board when you were a kid. A piece of the grip tape is peeling up. Wear and tear from hundreds and thousands have come through here and survived. You're suspended 134 meters (440 feet) above a little creek between this huge gorge. Not nearly enough water to dive into. Must be 3 feet deep.