I have been tandem skydiving twice as I write this, but once this post has been published I will have hopefully gone up for a third jump. Weather of course is the biggest factor on any given day. I am by no means an expert, I don’t really even like rollercoasters, but here’s my story about the first time.

I was first offered a free tandem skydive as payment for my band playing a gig up at Skydive New England in October 2018. I couldn’t say no to an opportunity like that! And I’m lucky the band has since been asked to play up there a couple more times over 2019. 

We got invited because Colin, the singer of my band OTP, is a regular skydiver. He’ll sometimes jump out of the plane five times in one day. And our drummer at the time, Gabe, had been a few times himself. I was the only newbie in the band. 

Once we got to the dropzone, the band checked in, did paperwork, got weighed, and waited around until we were called to watch a short video and meet our skydive instructors—the people Gabe and I would be strapped to for dear life (Colin jumps on his own and sometimes has foam sword fights in the air). 

We got on a truck which brings everyone out to a tiny plane with no seats, just two long benches that run parallel to one another the length of the cabin. Skydivers are a wild bunch as you can imagine, and if you’re a newbie they’ll definitely joke about dying a few times to scare you. Once we began the ascent, my tandem skydive instructor, BunBun, was strapping the two of us together and telling me what to expect and how to move my body. 

The ascent and the exit are, for me, the scariest part of the experience. Tandem skydivers sit in the back of the plane and watch everyone jump out before them. Even just opening the airplane door is a surreal moment. Because I was (and still am) so new to it all, it’s hard to clearly recall the first few seconds after exiting the plane into thin air. I knew my body immediately tensed up and I relied on my previous instruction to combat that fear, relax, and move the way I was supposed to.

Free-fall is crazy. You fall at about 120mph from between 10,000 to 13,000 feet above the ground (weather/wind pending). I saw the curvature of the horizon, and I really did feel like I was among the clouds which is super fun. After that, BunBun pulled the parachute and we were what they call “under canopy.” 

Under canopy was absolutely the best part of all for me. I could see beautiful fall foliage from the sky and landmarks like Lake Winnipesaukee. This was the point at which I had my first major jolt of pure adrenaline bliss. In free-fall, my senses were just a bit too overloaded to have that moment of reflection.

On a side note, once we pulled the canopy, BunBun asked how I was feeling. I thought I would be funny—fart jokes are funny—and I told him I had to fart (I didn’t). He awkwardly replied “please don’t.” The embarrassment didn’t stop me from enjoying the view though.

Once we landed, Gabe ran up to me and we had a big hug. The camaraderie of taking that giant leap together was like nothing else. After landing I felt more of that bliss from my adrenaline, and it honestly lasted for days. I will say this though, you get fatigued after your blood pressure returns to normal. We played our gig after jumping, and though we played well, we all felt exhausted.

At SNE, when there are enough people they usually start a nice big bonfire and it’s a party atmosphere. Nudity is often encouraged. I would recommend going up there for an overnight trip, camping out, and getting a couple jumps in if you can.

There really isn’t anything like the rush of skydiving. As a musician, with tours canceled and bars closed, the chaos of jumping out of a plane is the exact prescription my brain needs right now. So in quarantine I have been dreaming of all this. Thank you, reader, for allowing me to relive some of those wild moments and thank you to Gillian for giving me an opportunity to create in a way outside of my musical wheelhouse!

If you enjoyed this piece, please follow Cat Verlicco on Twitter @growlette5.