I was oblivious to James behind me as we dropped at more that one hundred and thirty miles an hour. He taps me on my arm and points to my left. I strain to turn my head to find Jason falling butt down, legs spread up into the air and one arm to the side as he controls his spin. He rolls tape as he falls and is as calm as if he is watching his favorite football game in his living room. We freefall for a full minute as the cameras roll and the world stops.
The chute opens and we suddenly lurch to a halt. James taps me again and says “look up!” The big red, white and blue chute is a beautiful sight against the gray Alaska sky. He taps me again and asks me to hold the controls and I oblige. I pull right and we go right, etc. I pull both strings and we come to a standstill hovering like a bird. James takes over and slowly guides us into the L.Z. I raise my legs high into the air as we gently slide in on our butts. I look down the gravel bar and Jason is just landing and Tom is already gathering up the equipment. High fives are given all the way around.
The Raft Trip
We carefully pack up the parachutes in dry bags and unpack the rafting and fishing gear. I inflate the raft with a battery pump and lay out the dry suits, paddles and life jackets. After a small Rafting 101 orientation to the new paddle crew we begin our three-day float on the beautiful Alaska river.
We elect to use paddles on this trip and all contribute equally every day while on the water. This helps build a fun team atmosphere. We swap stories, they tell me skydiving stories and I give them my best fish tales and we all become close friends.
I never did get that thirty-inch rainbow — like I said, skeptical. That was the first “fishing trip” I have taken that I really did not care if I caught a fish. We do, however, feast on silver salmon and Red Bull for three days. I was wired out of my skull and only slept about 8 hours in 3 days.
The mornings drift into evenings and the days all blend together as we meander through the high arctic crimson landscape as it slowly gives way to large growth spruce forests. It was like a living portrait that seemed to change with each second. The river takes the path of least resistance and we eventually arrive back at the designated pick up area, which for this trip is a vehicle and my wife.
There is a sense of disappointment when you round that last corner and see a sign of civilization. Don’t tell my wife that.
Two weeks from now I will be saying, “What did you say about bluegill?”
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