Dead Mike Does Bridge Day

Bridge Day as told by me, Dead Mike

It all started when I read a message in rec.skydiving on Sunday (10-11-98) saying that some of my friends had an open slot in an RV headed for Bridge Day. Well, I called Bill Bright on Monday and decided, since I had surgery on my right foot not five days before, that it wouldn't work because I had to be at the doctor's on Thursday and they were leaving on Wednesday. Damn! Well, after thinking about it and since my foot wasn't hurting TOO bad, I decided that I could wait one more week to get my stitches removed. So on Tuesday I called Bill back, made sure the slot was still open and asked if everyone was OK with me taking my dog Bennie with me. That said and done, all I had to do was schedule a new doctor's appointment and pack my bags. The RV we had was 31 foot and slept all eight of us (luckily Tom and Kim shared a bunk and one person was always driving). After 23 hours and a stop outside of Knoxville to an antenna (it was nice, but at 6 am in a not-so-stealthy RV? well... the road was calling us), we arrived in West Virginia. We scouted the landing area that afternoon (Friday, the day before) by actually driving down in the RV, way to go Catfish! But I really didn't plan on jumping at that time. I looked at the site, but not very carefully. So, we left to camp out at the campgrounds, met up with Doc Steve and his car and finally went to the Holiday Inn where everyone had to register and get their wristbands. Well, at this point I started thinking about things. The first thing to overcome was if I could swoop a slot. Since most jumpers pre-register and it's limited to 500 jumpers... well, I didn't think I had a chance. Thanks to Avery, I was able to register to jump by taking up the last "no-show" slot. OK, first hurdle down: I have a slot. Now I have to see if all other conditions are right for me to jump. Next stop: back to the landing area. So, I caught a ride to the landing area and scoped everything out (you can see a scrolling panoramic view above). I was definitely going to land in the water. I'll take a 3 second delay, line up over this big rock (on the right in the picture) at the height of that tree and head straight for the ramp (on the left, 180 degrees from the rock). This would be about 30 feet offshore and was definitely deep enough. If I overshot, I could veer left at the ramp and still hit open water. OK, now to find some gear. Thank you Bill Legg, BASE jumper extraordinare (the guy has jumped inside the astrodome!), for lending me his "Death Rig" which had some lovely skulls on the back. It was an old Stratocloud with not much flare, but it was packed, it could get wet and I could use it! And since I was going into water; so what if it didn't flare that great. The last and final question was the weather. On the way up to the Bridge, I expected 60 degree days and very cold water. If this were the case, I wasn't going to jump into frigid water and stand around in dripping clothes. Well, guess what? The weather was the best ever, mid to upper 70s and a water temp of 65. Everything was a GO! I would make my return jump at Bridge Day. OK, OK, so it's not the same as a solo skydive, but in many ways it is a better next step after the tandem! That night I go over the jump with Catfish. I'm really worried about going head down since I saw an MTV sports special where Joe Jennings was preparing for his first BASE jump off the bridge. He did several practice exits from the otter, from a helicopter and finally from a balloon. I hadn't jumped in 15 months! Wouldn't have any practive jumps, except off a curb, and I was wearing an anchor on one leg! Well, I kinda already knew what to do since Kim had been reciting to everyone on the trip up exactly what Catfish had told her; and what he was about to tell me. (I think she was a bit nervous). Catfish directed me, "Walk up to the edge on the platform. Look over the canyon, it's a beautiful site. Even if you don't want to, you have to look down. Take a deep breath. Look up. Select a point in the canyon/horizon about 45 degrees down and jump off, keeping in an arch and making sure you keep looking at that point on the horizon. Count three seconds. Throw the pilot chute. Stay in an arch. Sashay back and forth and land in the water." Later, Bill Legg, who was really nervous about me jumping and didn't want to be known as "The man who finally killed Dead Mike," instructed me to lay on my back and put out my hand and the boat guy would be there. So, the day of arrives. We park the car about 1.5 miles from the jump point. I strap on my backpack (dunno, what the hell I was thinking) and I march like lemmings with the rest of the Houston contingent to jump off the bridge. We arrived and I found Bill Legg already in line. He was going to jump, pack up and grab the other rig. I would then walk back and meet him at his car or somewhere in between. After watching all my friends jump and after watching other countless bodies hurling themselves off, I decided that this was more like an amusement park ride than anything else. All my conceptions of a BASE jump (which I've NEVER wanted to do) disappeared. This was going to be easy and the guys in the boats are right there... So, I walked back to the car and found Tom and Kim there. Tom was going to jump again, but Kim was not (she landed kinda hard and twisted her ankle). We locked up the car and walked back to the bridge. By this time, I had plenty of time to think about the jump, but I wouldn't allow myself too much time to work up about it. I've jumped a thousand times before, this is no big deal. Play it kewl. Non-chalant. Nothing to worry about. Confidence. For those who have met me, you know I have a brace on my left leg (you can see it in the pic above), but I was feeling really good and all the walking was pumping up the ole muscles and I was ready to ROCK! We met Bill Legg already in line, with the Death Rig. I donned the rig, everyone double checked the gear and we waited in line. About 40 minutes later we were close enough to fold the pilot chute. Bill fold's the pilot chute for me, places it in my hand, and for the next 20 minutes that thing didn't budge in my hand! Doc Steve and Brian Button went ahead of me so they could get video of the jump from the ground. They were standing on the ramp waiting for the boats to clear so they could take the two way off, so the staff was calling for solo jumpers and I had to sit there and wait for them, so I let other solo jumpers go first. Alrighty then; the time comes. It's been a coupla minutes since Doc and Brian left. They ask for a solo jumper and I raise my hand. One gear check: "You sure you want to hold the pilot chute like that? Here, make the bridle come out the TOP of your hand." OK! Second gear check: "Have fun!" I walk up the steps and await my turn. Tom, Kim, Bill, Brian and Catfish are behind me, as are some fellow netters I met in line who had heard of me (a really cute girl, Karen and some guy. ;^) They wave me on and I walk to the end of the ramp. I take normal steps for about four feet and then take little baby steps until I get about 6 inches from the edge. Whoa! My adrenaline level is rising big time! As I'm inching up, I hear a few staff members say, "Have a good jump, Dead Mike." Kewl. I look out over the canyon and I look down. SHIT! Forget what Catfish told me, this took my breath away!! I had to take a deep breath! "Alright," I thought, "I gotta jump soon, I can't hold up the line." So I look up, preparing myself, wondering how much longer it's gonna take before I really do it. So much angst, tension, build up, anticipation, pain, worries, everything from the past 15 months was flashing thru my poor brain (which was on overload, but a kewl overload. ;^) Just at that time I hear Catfish yell, "JUST DO IT!" Well, this made me feel a bit better. It was like a gentle nudge. My friends were behind me and everyone wanted to see it. I look out over the canyon, picked some spot, which I have no idea where or what it was, and I put my arms up ready to jump. Then again from a group of people in line, yelling, "GO DEAD MIKE" That was it. The crowd is cheering me on, I gotta go now! I take a deep breath and yell at the top of my lungs: "3! 2! 1! See ya Mother Fucker!" (Just like Ready-Set-Go in skydiving, BASE jumpers say something before jumping, too) And I jump. I hear some folx cheering as I fall away from the bridge. As soon as my feet left the ramp, I was on automatic pilot. I stopped thinking about what I was supposed to do, or what my body position was. Instead, I did a complete 360 of my body (in my mind) and checked how everything felt. IT FELT GREAT! I saw the bridge pass by out of the corner of my eye, as I was still fixated somewhere in front of me. I feel like 3 seconds have passed and I dump the pilot chute. The canopy opens and I'm saddled under the big Stratocloud. And what a comfortable seat it is! No couch, bed, waterbed, chair, recliner, wheelchair, nothing! felt as good as being in the harness under a parachute. It was a really nice, warm, fuzzy feeling. It felt as if a missing part of me were coming back. I set up over the rock, a bit higher than I wanted, but still at a good altitude. I head for the ramp. The water gets near, I flare and splash! I go under the water for a second, surface and the canopy lands on top of me. At this point I hear (in my mind) Bill Legg telling me to go on my back, clear the canopy and put out my hand. I did just that and within a few seconds, the boat was there and they were grabbing for me. Well, I was really hyped up and breathing kind of erratic from the cold water. So I'm gasping kind of. The guy in the boat looks at me, sees the leg brace and asks, "Are you OK?" I look at him and half gasping, half talking, utter to him, "Ccccold." He smiles and pulls me in. I make it to shore. Hi five with my friends and watch the others. Much to my surprise, Andy Anderson, with whom I collided at Quincy, was also there and he was behind me on the bridge. He was able to see the jump (he was happy about that too) and I was able to see him land. He was also kind enough to lend me a dry shirt as it was kinda cold waiting for the bus. I got tired of waiting for the bus, since everyone was leaving after the 16 way. I decided to start walking up the four mile road, but I only got about 25 yards when I was able to hitchike with some locals whom I clearly pointed out the leg brace to. ;^) "Help a crippled jumper?" hee hee. On the way up, I was able to snag a ride for Yuri as well. Later, Brian told me that some local old ladies standing in line were talking to each other after my jump, "Did you hear that?!" "Every word of it!" Welcome to the world of BASE jumping. So, that's it. It was one more step to regaining a normal life. Next stop: solo skydive! Oh yeah, I wouldn't mind going back to do it again. ;^) And ya know. It's hard to imagine not jumping.
All photos taken using a Kodak DC25 digital camera (except my two BASE pictures)