Skydiving into the record books
By: Leslie Draffin
Updated: March 30, 2012
This past weekend, Skydive Louisiana broke state records for high altitude skydive and high altitude group formation.
And since we're told in TV to, "go where the news is" that's just what I did, even though its thousands of feet in the air.
Skydiving is low on my "bucket list," so I never really envisioned myself plunging head first toward Earth at 120 miles per hour. Still, when Skydive Louisiana invited me along for a ride, I couldn't pass it up. At first I wasn't too convinced I'd enjoy my 6 minutes in the sky. The ride to altitude on a very small plane, packed with expert skydivers didn't settle those nerves at all. And the 40 seconds of free falling did NOT feel good since a zipper attached to my "80s- style" suit spent that time smashing into my neck at 120 miles per hour. But once the parachute opened, and yes it did open, I understood how people can get addicted to skydiving. From far above a field in Gilliam, LA I could see the entire ArkLaTex. A mental picture to last a lifetime, well worth forty seconds of discomfort and a few more anxiously anticipating the landing. I stuck that landing in the end and with feet on solid ground can firmly say I'm glad I went skydiving, but I won't be going again.
And since we're told in TV to, "go where the news is" that's just what I did, even though its thousands of feet in the air.
Skydiving is low on my "bucket list," so I never really envisioned myself plunging head first toward Earth at 120 miles per hour. Still, when Skydive Louisiana invited me along for a ride, I couldn't pass it up. At first I wasn't too convinced I'd enjoy my 6 minutes in the sky. The ride to altitude on a very small plane, packed with expert skydivers didn't settle those nerves at all. And the 40 seconds of free falling did NOT feel good since a zipper attached to my "80s- style" suit spent that time smashing into my neck at 120 miles per hour. But once the parachute opened, and yes it did open, I understood how people can get addicted to skydiving. From far above a field in Gilliam, LA I could see the entire ArkLaTex. A mental picture to last a lifetime, well worth forty seconds of discomfort and a few more anxiously anticipating the landing. I stuck that landing in the end and with feet on solid ground can firmly say I'm glad I went skydiving, but I won't be going again.
