"That was the best Skydive ever!"

Those were the first words out of Brian Forbes lips after every jump he did.

The freefall skills of the Winnipeg crew could, and are, debated on a
regular basis, but nobody who has ever met them would doubt their
enthusiasm. It's 4:30 in the afternoon and they left a few hours ago to
climb Pikachu Peak, having carefully timed it so they would be climbing a
near vertical rock face devoid of any protection from the sun in the hottest
part of the day. When you check in at the park gate you have to fill out a
waiver before they even let you attempt it, and tell you to bring a minimum
of 2-4 quarts of water for the climb, depending on the time of year. But
it's worth the effort. I made the climb last year with my niece and the view
is spectacular.

It's the last jumping day of my trip. A lot of people left yesterday, and
there are not a lot of Invaders left. The event goes on until Sunday, but
most of the excitement takes place in the first week. I'm sitting in the
Silver Streak after cracking a beer so that if anybody comes looking for me
to do a jump I'm grounded.

Today I survived the "Scott Miller Advanced Skills Canopy Control Course".
Or "Here's a bunch of things it would probably never occur to you to try
with your canopy". Note I didn't say stupid things you could do with your
canopy, but it would be very easy to do a bunch of what we were taught
stupidly. I've now got enough knowledge to go back to my home DZ and
practice what I've been taught and as long as I'm reeaaally careful,
everything will probably be fine.

My goal for the course was to improve my high-performance landing technique.
I managed to achieve that, and it seems that I had mostly figured it out by
myself. Mostly. There was one excellent slight downwind swoop that resulted
in me flaring a little high, sending me floating across the landing area at
a high rate of speed 5 feet off the grass, my legs running like I was Peter
Pan doing a low and over.

My favorite exercise was the last one. We'd do a 180 degree front riser
turn, resulting in a steep dive and large increase in speed, then you went
into half brakes for a couple of seconds to level it out, followed by
letting one toggle all the way up, and pulling all the way down on the
other. That last control input would swing you out horizontally beside the
canopy in a high speed flat turn. I've always wondered how people did that.
I'm just not sure I'll ever work up the nerve to do it close to the ground.

I leave in the morning, returning to reality, a truck buried in snow, a desk
buried in paperwork, bills to pay, customers to deal with. I'll leave behind
The Silver Streak, old friends, new friends, lots of brain cells, and of
course, far more money than I had intended to spend. You only get to go
around once, so you might as well enjoy the ride, right? 48 Jumps while most
of the rest of you were shoveling snow.

The Winnipeg crew will drop me off tomorrow morning to catch a flight back
to Ottawa, via Chicago. With any luck I'll miss my connection, and then I
can call Kelly and Phil to come fetch me at O'Hare airport. And we can start
planning our assault upon Summerfest 09.

Top 10 reasons to attend the Canadian Invasion:
1 - Sun
2 - Heat
3 - The Bent Prop Saloon
4- The Golden Corral all you can eat buffet (but only if you bring Paul)
5 - The Eden North Parachute School
6 - A videographer of minor note, but generous heart, who shall remain
nameless, we know who he is.
7- Turbines
8 - Kitty, who runs the local massage parlor
9 - Old friends, new friends.
10- The best reason of all: Is it snowing where you are? 'Cause it ain't
snowin' here!

If You Screw This Up........

It's Sunday morning, the second day of the big-way camp. and I've stood down
from it to help Brian get the jumps he needs for his B COP finished. He
hasn't shown up yet so I'm getting an early start on this.

I just received one of the best compliments I've ever received in my
skydiving career. I was passing John Smith (a videographer of some minor
note) who is doing video for the camp and asked him how his day was going.
He replied "We sure could have used you on that last skydive." A simple
comment, nothing special, but coming from a man who has a reputation for
holding nothing back and zero bullshit tolerance it means a a lot more than
a comment from Jimmy-Joe-Jumper. The man has done thousands of skydives
videoing everything that can happen in the sky, and I've learned to respect
both his attitude and opinion on a number of subjects.

I found out Beth is going to be pied for a second time tonight for her 500th
jump because Tim did such a lame job the first time. I'm in a bit of a
quandary. I't's not fair to get pied twice for the same accomplishment, even
if the first one was botched. Should I warn her, as I'm very tempted to do?
Or just let it play out? She leaves tonight, so that will probably mean she
heads to Phoenix with whipped cream and meringue in her hair. I'll probably
stay neutral, but I do feel guilty about it, she's been pretty good to me on
this trip, and her invitation was the main reason I came.

7:46 In the evening in the Bent Prop Saloon.

The day was pretty relaxed. When I got tired of waiting for Brian I finally
picked up my crap and headed over to the main hangar to join the locals on a
skydive. While waiting for the dirt dive to start I heard an announcement
over the P.A. "Anybody who was on that last dive with Team Flail and lived,
and would like to do another one, please meet in the hangar." Hmmm. I wonder
who they are? We're the only people in the hangar. I started to get nervous as I concluded that Team Flail was the group I'd joined.

As I looked around at the other six people during the dirt dive I realized I
was the youngest person there by about 15 years. I figured this was either
going to go really well, or very very bad. As I walked and most of them
limped to the plane I thought either these guys with their beat-up faded
jumpsuits, leather helmets, and old pop-top containers were going to be
fantastic in the air and I was going to have a tough time keeping up, or
this was going to be full body-contact Combat Relative Work. It turned out
to be something in between.

We launched a 4-way base out of the Skyvan, which immediately took a hard
hit that would have taken out a less solid group, the offending dive-bomber
then flipped end over end out of sight and I never saw him again. Not even
on the ground. I flashbacked on the "Team Flail" announcement. Either he
went in or he slunk away in shame after landing. Another one bites the dust
Arizona style.

After that it went great. We zipped through a 5 point 6-way (formerly 7-way)
skydive twice, all the docks were clean, and we all just adapted to cover
the missing person.

Brian had shown up by then, and we went up for our first Coach jump. I felt
like I was a Matador and he was the Bull. Every time he charged at me I'd
step out of the way to let him pass before he hit me. I couldn't understand
it. He'd done a spectacular job on a similar dive a couple of days ago.

After we landed, he got some food, got his head screwed on straight, we went
back up, and he aced the dive. You have to have your mind in this game for
it to work. We made a quick turn-around and he aced the next one as well. A
videographer of some minor note even wandered over to make the observation
that he thought the kid had done an excellent job of handling the landing in
very difficult winds. Not that anybody cares what he thinks.

At one point we were sitting on the tram by the main boarding area as a load
came in past us for landing. One guy who was swooping in at high speed was
coming up about 100 feet short and was going to have to slide across the
asphalt. I was already cringing and speculating on how long he would be in
intensive care getting skin grafts when he suddenly rocked back on his heels
to reveal he was wearing wheelies! He went screaming along to finish his
flare on the grass to a round of applause.

The Big Way camp soldiered on without me, at times times rising to heights
of glory, at times descending to Farce. From what I heard the most
entertaining part was when Paul was diving to his slot and had to dodge
people all the way, which shouldn't happen. After he collided with Lyal, he
chewed him out in freefall, complete with colorful hand gestures, before
suddenly realizing he was the offending party because he was on the wrong
side of the formation.

Beth finally did get pied, and it was with chocolate cream, her favorite, so
she didn't really seem to mind. Also pied for their 500th were Bruce from
Eden North, and Joanne Chantigny from Mile High. Joanne has bought $60 worth
of beer which at American prices should be enough to fill a pickup truck as
her fine.

Beth and Tim are gone now, and they've been such a constant in the rhythm of
the last 9 days that it will be strange to not have them around. I look
forward to spending some quality time with them again. Practically family.

Doug gave us homework for the Level II canopy control course that starts
tomorrow. It all seems to focus on one thing.
"If You Screw This Up, You Will Die!" Also referred to as "Trial and
Femur."

Yippee

Can't wait for class to start. Again I flashback to the "Team Flail"
announcement.

What could possibly go wrong? It's not like we're doing CRW!
Larry

"That is not a Grip!"

Joanne's team won the scrambles meet yesterday. Their prize was 15 minutes
in the tunnel. If I had known what the prize was I would've gone with my
original plan, one that would've guaranteed success.

Cheat.

The scoring was on the honor system and I wouldn't have hesitated to
compromise my principles and lie through my teeth for free tunnel time. I'll
keep that in mind for next year.

The 16-way camp started this morning with stretches in the hangar at 7:30.
It seems the point of that was to isolate any of the muscles we had not yet
injured and then damage them as well. I now hurt everywhere. Thanks Doug.

I was on the 4-way base for the first jump, and after the launch I started
making faces at Vicky who was across from me. We were winking at each other,
sticking out our tongues, crossing our eyes, the usual stuff. It took me a
moment to realize we were falling fast as fu** and still accelerating. I
folded myself in two and still could barely stay down with the base as
people started to grip up.

In the debrief Doug told me to add 10 pounds of weights. Me? Put on a weight
belt? In 17 years I've never had to carry lead. I borrowed one from Lyal,
and reluctantly wrapped it around myself for the second jump. It made all
the difference in the world. Instead of trying to twist my legs behind me up
to my ears, I was able to actually relax a little and could still fly my
slot.

The landing was pretty sporty though. I had so much fun on the skydive that
I forgot about the extra weight when I came in to land. I was doing my usual
front riser carve, on a no-wind day, at a couple thousand feet higher field
elevation than I'm used to, wearing 10 extra pounds and as I planed out a
couple feet off the ground, humming along a lot faster than usual, I thought
"I'm swooping!" Turns out wearing the weights wasn't so bad after all.

I brought along some balloons and on one of our rides to altitude I blew
them up and turned them loose inside the plane. Batting them back and forth
killed the ride and gave us something to do on the ride.

We were using the Skyvan, and for one jump Doug put Beth as rear float, but
she couldn't reach the bar. Doug found a piece of rope to tie to the bar and
once the door was open Beth wound up dangling from it like a Piñata.

Once as we got ready to exit Vicky reached behind herself to double check
her hacky before exit and Joanne, who was standing behind her straightened
up and said "That's not your hacky, that's my woohoo!" "I'm sorry!" said
Vicky. "I'm not." said Joanne, as she moved in closer.

These people are no fun at all.
Crazy Larry

Illigitimis Non Carborundum

Friday, Day 8

You know your girlfriend is really a skydiver when you tell her about going a little bit low on a jump, and about biting your ex-girlfriend's twin sister's ass, and she gives you shit for going low, but not for biting some strange girls ass. Speaking of which, Beth has a big bite shaped bruise and has vowed revenge. I spent the day looking over my shoulder.

Skydive Arizona treated us to an alfresco gourmet dinner last night. Hot dogs potato chips and draft beer while we huddled around a bunch of burning trash barrels. It was cool, but not cold, well into the evening. Not that we drank a lot but I remember somebody saying to me "You try and stand up first so then you can help me". The party moved off to a couple of rooms at the SkyRider Inn, and apparently they took the keg with them. Lyal was searching for it this morning thinking somebody had stolen it.

The Scrambles started this morning. They put together teams consisting of one low, one medium, and one experienced Skydiver. There were 3 dives with 3 points each and you had to do a 360 degree turn in between. For the last jump we got to take the DC 3. It's a piece of aviation history, and an important part of skydiving history, but it sucks as a jump plane. This one is actually soundproofed (a relative term), but it's still like riding in a big steel drum with a bunch of Japanese Kubota drummers beating like crazy on the outside of it. It climbs like a brick with an anvil tied to it, the door is so small you pop bodies out of it like a champagne cork, and if you're leaving from the outside it sprays oil all over you as you cling to the side of the plane.

Our team did okay, scoring 5-6-6 on our rounds. Beth's team shoulda won a special prize, I'm just not sure what category you would put it into. When they landed from one jump Cam and Jeff started were trying to decide if they had gone through the whole skydive 3 or 4 times and Beth stepped in saying
"No, we got through it 2 1/2 times and then you two started arguing about whether or not it was time for breakoff". For those of you who don't know, breakoff is the agreed upon altitude at which you all separate and track away from each other to get clear airspace to deploy a parachute before the laws of physics stuff a planet up your ass. It seem Jeff and Cam spent a couple thousand feet having a lively and spirited argument, complete with hand gestures that would do a third base coach proud, over whether or not it
was time to turn and track like their lives depended on it. Because it does!

All was well, they didn't go low thank heavens, because their girlfriends would probably tear a strip off of them.

After the fun was over we went to Chili's for dinner with the Winnipeg crew. When we got there Tim and I both ordered drinks at the bar, and got served, but once we were seated at a table and the rest of the people tried to order drinks, some problems started. They carded everybody. There is a law in this state that says if someone appears to be under 40 years of age they must produce identification to order a drink. Vickie had no ID and couldn't get a drink period, despite Brian claiming to be her Father and that he would
vouch for her age. They even carded Brian, who is a 55 year old retired civil servant. When I asked if I would have to produce ID to order a drink the child who was serving us took an appraising look at me and said "No, you're good". I'm looking across the table at Brian, who looks old enough to have had dinosaurs as pets, sitting there with a big shit eating grin on his face because he just got carded, but I look old enough I don't have to prove I can order booze?

Afterwards when we went to Wal-Mart to get food and beer (you can always get Canadian Beer at Wal-Mart) Tim got carded. Beth promptly piped up with "I'm 34 and would love to show you my ID!". She enthusiastically hauled her knapsack from her back to prove she was of age. Where we come from you only have to be 19 to drink, and they only card you if you look like you're in high school, so she figures it's a great compliment to be carded.

Goodnight all, it's 9 o'clock and time to stroll the 100 feet or so across the parking lot to the Bent Prop for a couple of drinks with Beth and Tim.

The Big-way camp begins tomorrow athe ungodly hour of 7:30, and I have to wonder what the heck I was thinking of when I signed up for that.

"Illigitimis Non Carborundum"
Don't Let The Bastards Grind You Down
Crazy Larry

If you don't have video, it didn't really happen

Wednesday, Day 6

Ed sank out on our 4-way yesterday cheating us out of video of the best
Skydive we'd done since our arrival. John Smith had been planning to come
along but had scratched when he found out Ed was going. This morning he was
saying that he hadn't been getting any good footage to put in the annual
Invasion Video, so Beth, Dave, Paul and I decided to go up in an attempt to
repeat yesterday's success. It was okay, but we thought we could do better.

After we swapped out Dave for Tim, John came along to video us as we went up
again. The launch was rock solid, we dropped grips and started turning
points a couple of seconds outside the door. We were smooth, controlled,
almost lazy, as we went through a five point random skydive 3 complete times
and 2 more points to boot. John says it was really only 16 points because we
went low, but it is on video so I'm calling it 17, we were only a little
low. Kinda like a little dead. So you could debate whether we have video of
a good skydive or a bunch of stupid people trying to kill themselves. While
we were watching it after we got down John played a soundtrack over it by
activating a singing wall plaque with a brassiere encased pair of breasts on
it that sang as song called "Titties and Beer". I'm gonna see if I can find
one at Wal-Mart to bring back home with me. I'm sure Nathalie will love it.

Beth's 500th jump was today, and she wanted to do a hybrid, so she grabbed a
couple of the more experienced people from Eden North, and some of the
locals to put one together. It was a thing of beauty, a joy to behold. 6
Flat flyers in a round, and 3 hangers evenly spaced around it. John Smith
flew video and stills. When the hangers went into their standup their timing
was a little off and I thought the whole thing was going over on it's end.

It settled out and started to pick up speed. Within a few seconds we were
outrunning the cameraman. I don't know how fast we got but their was a lot
of pressure built up before the hangers let go. One of the neatest parts of
a hybrid is when it suddenly slows down as the hangers leave, and the noise
drops right off. John printed off a huge photo for her of the completed
formation taken before it started to outrun him. When I asked him if I could
buy a copy he replied that he didn't sell his pictures. It seemed I asked
the wtrong question because the next day he walked up to me and gave me one
on the condition I show it to everyone at the Invasion. Seemed like a good
deal to me.

Tim pied her shortly after landing but there are no photos because he
couldn't find any of us at the critical moment. If you want to see pictures
of the dive go to aphidairdesigns.smugmug.com

The 4-way skills camp ended today and part of their fun was to come up with
the most outlandish names they could fore their teams. We'd be hearing calls
like ' This is a fifteen minute call for Load 4, Tandems for 2, Yellow bus
for 3, Stix Zidinia for 5, and Turn Your Head and Cough for 5." Dianne
claims Stix Zidinia is the name of the drummer for some thrash metal band.
Try saying it fast 3 times. But not where normal people will hear. The next
time I need a name for a team I'm going to call Winnipeg.

Liz and I had a blast in the tunnel again. We were doing much more
challenging stuff than the night before. Some double - block dives, and the
real difficult ones that people never try. At one point when we were
building a Murphy flake and I looked to the Tail to see if Todd was on
grips, he, along with Josh and the tunnel rat were all frantically grabbing
at a half filled plastic coke bottle that was bobbing around at the edge of
the door. Todd got hold of it twice and tossed it back out but the guys in
the chamber couldn't get hold of it before it got sucked back in. Suddenly
it got enough air and took off straight up like a bullet with all six hands
chasing it. It couldn't have hit anything vital because we didn't get pieces
of fan blade raining down around us. If it made it through it probably went
up to about 500 feet.

I had beaten the crap out of my knees against the tunnel wall the previous
night so this time I wore kneepads. Since my knees were so well protected
Todd chose to do Ned's trick and kick me in the head, over and over and
over. Thank god for full-face helmets.

Found out that the guy who got life-flighted out wasn't Australian, he was
an Israeli. And he was injured far worse than first believed. Broken neck,
paralyzed from the neck down, and brain damage. Now I feel guilty for making
wise-ass remarks.

Thursday, day 7
Naproxen and Extra Strength Tylenol for breakfast
I hurt. In all the normal places, a few abnormal places, and a few places that
are downright strange. The cycle of "Skydive, Pack, Repeat, Party, Tunnel,
Party some more, Collapse, Start Over, is beginning to take its toll. It's a
cumulative thing. There are no crippling injuries, just repeats of the same
ones, and the damage is starting to tell. Nothing the right meds can't take
care of at this point though.

Did a bunch of funky skydives today, every one of them unique in it's own
way. 4-way points you don't normally attempt, some neat 6 person Phalanx fly
through to another 6 person Phalanx, and a 7-way where we did 6 points
including turning a 3-way and a 4-way block and re-docking it.

And I got to bite Beth's ass.

Way back in the old days at Ottawa Valley Skydiving there was this thing
called "Cobra". A Cobra is a venomous snake that lunges at it's victims,
bites them, and delivers it's poison. You would sneak up behind your victim, say
"Cobra!" and then promptly bite them on the ass. Nora did it to me once
while I was laying on my gear packing and the bite mark shaped bruise lasted
for weeks. It's a tradition that has been lost to history.

I was just getting ready to put the D-bag in to the container when I looked
over and there was Beth stretched out in a similar position to the one I had
been in when attacked by Nora. I couldn't resist. I dropped to my knees
beside her, leaned over so my mouth was inches from her butt, shouted
"Cobra!" and struck, biting her hard on the left cheek. She let out a blood
curdling shriek, but didn't let her pack job get loose. She vowed to have
her husband exact revenge upon me, but when I told him about it later he
merely expressed regret that he hadn't been there to witness it. My only
regret is that I didn't arrange to get video. Skydivers video everything. If
you don't belive me just ask and I'll send you to a couple of websites that
contain some pretty twisted stuff. You could start with:
http://www.stupidskydivertrickswithagoat.com/

It's 7 o'clock at night, and I'm heading over to the Bent Prop to check for
messages. As long as I'm there I'll probably have a beer, or ten, and maybe
even shoot some pool.

As usual the best comments on my daily updates come from Paul Wing. I ran into him on the packing mat at Mile High after I got back from Summerfest last year and he said he was sorry to see me. While I was trying to decide whether or not to take offence at that, he went on to explain that for the last couple of weeks the first thing he'd do every morning is check his email to see if there was something from me in his inbox. If there was, he'd go make coffee, then return to his computer, settle in, and get ready to start his day with a laugh. I still think of it as my ultimate compliment.

The 3-way Scrambles competition begins tomorrow, now that should provide
some entertainment.

Crazy Larry
"Illegitimis Non Carborundum"

Manitoba Morphine

If you're gonna be dumb, make sure you buy travel insurance.

Turns out Ken has a fractured vertebrae. When he was telling the ambulance
attendants he didn't want to go to hospital it was because he had no
insurance. So now he's on the hook for the ride, X-rays, and god only knows
what the hell else. At least he got first aid from Diane, who administered
some Manitoba Morphine. That's when she whips her top up, and vigorously
rubs her breasts back and forth across the patients face. It doesn't dull
the pain, but it distracts him for a while.

The highlight of the day was a 4-way with Beth, Tim, and Paul. It was
smokin'. Stair step Diamond, Side body Donut - Side flake Donut, Satellite,
Open Accordion. The launch was solid, we were quick, clean, smooth, no
grabbing, and it was just lovely. We turned a whole pile of points, but our
camera guy sank out on us so we have no proof.

The most entertaining moment of the day was supplied by Ed, who was front
float on an 8-way. I told him to go into a hard track as soon as he launched
to get a little above the formation and then settle into his slot. I guess I
shoulda' told him to track for just a second or two, because as soon as we
left I was treated to the sight of Ed tracking as hard as he could, shooting
up past the base and disappearing out of view like he was trying to catch up
with the plane and get back in . We never saw him again on that skydive. He
was only the first to go, every time we went to another point we lost
somebody else. If we'd had enough altitude I'd have wound up on my own doing
a style set.

Liz and I spent our half hour in the tunnel with two of the gods of the
sport, Todd Hawkins and Doug Forth. The briefing started off with Todd
bitching me out for not having all the blocks and randoms memorized by their
letter and number designations. It's almost a tradition. He's been telling
me to do that since my first skills camp here 5 years ago. Every year I
explain how I've been too busy, and promise to have them down pat for the
next time I visit. And every year I never seem to find the time.

The tunnel session itself was a blast, WE ROCKED! Turnin' and burnin',
crankin' and bankin', 30 minutes of tunnel heaven. It also had a couple
moments of high comedy when the tunnel rat (spotter), for no apparent
reason, suddenly stepped in to shove Doug over beneath Todd, causing them to
pancake on each other. Todd promptly shoved me over beneath Liz, and she
landed on me. As soon as I could get untangled I went after the tunnel rat
and dove between his legs, so he wound up rodeoing me, and when he was
trying to get off I wound up vertical against the glass, shot up about 10
feet, came straight down on my head, and wound up back-flying. There was
some kind of shoving match going on on the other side and the tunnel rat in
between us all trying to get everything back under control with a look on
his face that clearly said "What Have I Done!``

My back hurts, I haven`t had to arch that hard or that long in years. My
knee banged the tunnel wall and Liz`s head often enough and hard enough on
the Bipole Bipole block that I`m walking with a limp. But I`ll be jumping
today, and back in the tunnel for our second half hour tonight, and I`m
looking forward to both.

Diane even managed to score some free tunnel time when she offered to help
out Aidan when Lyal came down sick and couldn't`t Coach. She got a lot more
than she bargained for when Aidan handed her 2 students with absolutely no
instructions about what to do with them. She made it up on the fly, and I
think she did pretty damn good, despite her own opinion of her abilities. "I
can`t fly, and I can`t tunnel, the only thing I`m good at is drinking
Beer!``

It's now Wednesday morning, the sun is up, and it's time to go play. The fun
goes on......

Crazy Larry

If you're gonna be dumb, ya gotta be tough

If you're gonna be dumb, ya gotta be tough

Beth and Tim finally arrived yesterday. Beth had been distracted by
something shiny at the side of the road. It was one of the 10 pools or 4
bars at the 5 diamond Hyatt Regency resort in Scottsdale. Tim didn't want to
leave. Ever.

Beth works for the chain, and it cost them a couple of cases of empties for
the night's stay, including the Lincoln Town Car that picked them up at the
airport.

I'd a given them a hard time, but a few years ago I was distracted by
something shiny myself and it took 4 days to get from Phoenix to Eloy, which
is about a 45 minute drive. It was called Las something or other. Very
shiny, very noisy, and the bars never closed. Ever. I liked it.

I hadn't planned on doing any tunnel while I was here but they had booked a
15 minute block for Monday evening and invited me to join them. I figured
what the heck. I've got loads of tunnel time doing hard-core 4-way and
drills, and while I don't have an over-inflated opinion of my skills I knew

I felt I was pretty hot shit in the tunnel and was looking forward to the chance to
just go in and play. Man, was I in for a surprise. I seemed to spend most of
my time bouncing off the glass, the grate, or Beth and Tim. I do have a lot
of tunnel time, but none of it has been lately. I was quite apologetic when
we exited, but Tim seemed to think I didn't do any worse than they did,
which wasn't the point. I didn't do as good as I thought I should have, so
when Liz invited me to join her for a half-hour session on Tuesday and
Wednesday night with Todd Hawkins and Doug Forth I jumped at the chance.
Those 2 should be able to make anybody look good.

Ty (Beth and Tim's friend who's loaning us the trailer) pulled the trailer
into the parking lot and hooked it up to the post for us so we'd have power.
But nobody bothered to ask manifest to turn on the power. We figured we'd be
okay, after all, how cold could it get?

After a joyous reunion, involving many toasts to everybody we could think
of, we finally crashed in the "Air Streak", which is a knockoff on an
Airstream trailer. From the outside, there is no apparent difference. Until
I woke up in the middle of the night, and had to pee. Which is when I
realized how cold it was. And how badly insulated it was. But I really had
to pee. So when the pressure became too much, I finally gave in, and went
outside to water the desert. I was wearing my freefly pants and a t-shirt. I
gave a big sigh of relief as I finally started to relieve the pressure. I
was immediately engulfed in a cloud of steam. By the time I was half-way
done I was starting to shiver. By the time I was completely done I felt like
I was holding an automatic weapon and was machine gunning the desert. Damned
cold!

When I made it back into the trailer I pulled on all the warm clothing I
could find before I crawled back into my sleeping bag. The shivering took so
long long to stop that I thought I was going into convulsions. It was the
second coldest I've ever slept in my life. You know there's a problem when
you wish you'd put on gloves before you went to bed.

The next morning when I finally managed to straighten my poor arthritic
bones out enough to be able to actually drag my sorry butt out out into the
daylight I was surprised to discover that it was actually warmer outside the
metal tube than inside. Only by a couple of degrees but it helped to restore
the feeling in my extremities. As soon as the sun comes or goes down this
time of year the temperature leaps up or plummets.

After a leisurely breakfast (to let things warm up a bit before we jumped -
we didn't come down here to freeze our asses off, Beth Tim and I wandered
over to the main landing area to see if any of the locals were up and about
and wanted to play. Which is when we saw the Life Flight Helicopter circling
the field. One of the Australians that I'd panhandled money off of earlier
in the day to get money for coffee (whole other story) had smacked in. He
was broken up enough to rate a helicopter ride but should live. He did 2,
360 degree spirals, paused, then started another but didn't make it all the
way through before he got a planet stuffed up his ass. "If you're gonna be
dumb, ya gotta be tough."

Eventually Tim went back to have a nap that lasted most of the day while
Beth and I went to jump. Shortly after we entered Camp Canada Lyal grabbed
my arm to introduce me to Ken, who was looking for a level Coach 2 to sign
him off on the jumps he needed to qualify for his "C" license. When Beth
asked him how many 4-way jumps he replied "One". "Oh I wanna be there for
this, count me in!" She said. We promised to hook up with him for some jumps
later in the day, but I planned on asking him a lot more pointed questions
about his skills and experience before we actually started planning a dive.

I probably had over 1,000 4-way jumps before I started working on my C cop.

We were in the Otter half-way to altitude when the word came back from the
pilot that "The south landing area is closed." That's the landing area we
were using right in front of Camp Canada, and not a good sign. It usually
means somebody is getting scraped up and put on a stretcher. Turned out it
was Ken. He had just downsized from a Sabre 190 to a Sabre 170 to a Katana
the size of a bedsheet in around 70 jumps. He was on front risers all the
way to the ground, accelerating to max speed, and when he released them he
had just started to pull the brakes when he hit. He'll be fine, just some
lower back pain, but they took him away in an ambulance as a precaution. "If
you're gonna be Dumb..........."

It's 10 o'clock on Tuesday morning, the sun is shining, the Otter is flying,
and I sky is calling, so I must go.

Larry

The story goes on.......

Saturday was a pretty relaxed, laid back day. It looks to me like attendance for the Invasion is down this year, and not very many of the locals seem to be around. Got four good jumps in before the customary one hour before sunset shutdown. Then they started night jumps. Seeking entertainment, some of us wandered over to watch the landings.

The first thing I noted was the row of cars parked along the west side of the field for illumination, with their headlights shining downwind. Strategically placed so that the jumpers would be blinded as they approached the ground. When I pointed this out I was told they would be landing away from the lights, going east.

"But that's downwind, and it's blowing about 10 miles an hour." I replied.

"It wasn't blowing that fast when they took off." I was told.

"It's blowing  fast now, lets move the damn cars and change the landing direction." I said.

"Plan the dive, dive the plan." I was told.

In the end, the cars stayed where they were, the winds remained strong, and we were treated to the sight of glow-stick covered skydivers appearing out of the darkness to go screaming across the landing area, in most cases overshooting completely, (those that made the landing area at all, there were some issues with spotting) and vanishing in a cloud of dust when they couldn't run it out and did faceplants.

Nobody died, nobody lost an eye, and my rule about only doing night jumps at home because trying to get all your crap home with a cast on your leg is a pain in the ass received some positive reinforcement.

Then we went to eat. That seemed like it would be a fairly straightforward proposition, but we hadn't counted on Paul. Shortly after we were seated at the "Golden Corral All You Can Eat Buffet", a woman of considerable size came in with her husband and son. Very considerable. Massive. E-friggin-normous. She was nearing a bright yellow windbreaker, and when she passed by one girl at the table made a remark about a school bus. Paul piped up saying "For $10 each from everybody at the table I'll go over and make a pass at her."

I came back with "Hell, you'd do it for 25 cents each from everybody". In a flash Brian dug into his pocket and threw 2 quarters on the table saying "Ones mine and one is for Diane." Loose change began being tossed at Paul from every direction, the challenge had been made.

And Paul accepted.

He rose up, grabbed a fresh plate, and headed for the buffet. He casually sauntered up beside her, and started chatting. We missed the first 30 seconds or so because we were too far away to hear, so Garth Johnny and I grabbed plates and went to eavesdrop. The first thing I heard Paul say was "I'm having a great day, I had a lot of fun, and I got to meet you". I couldn't stay for long because I was going to lose it and start laughing so I returned to the table, but Garth and Johnny hung on a while longer. Paul gamely plodded ahead, not even backing down when she pointed out that she was here with her husband and son. I have to hand it to the guy, he pulled it off with style, and showed a sincerity he definitely didn't feel. Although she rejected his advances, she encouraged the compliments, telling him to keep it coming, so for myself I feel no guilt about the crass nature of it.

When she was out of sight on the other side of the restaurant, and Paul was returning to the table, we welcomed him back with a round of applause.

Beth and Tim haven't appeared, even though I waited in the Bar until midnight, they were supposed to be here at noon. I hope they show up soon, or I will have to bunk with the Winnipeg crew, and Brian snores like a chainsaw.

It's now Sunday morning around 8:30, I heard an Otter take off around 15 minutes ago, so I guess I better go get some breakfast before heading to Camp Canada. Although it's sunny, the outside air temp is 3 centigrade, so I'm not in any real rush.

Larry

Change of address notice

Change of address notice

For the next 11 days in case of emergency I can be reached by leaving a
message with the bartender at:

The Bent Prop Saloon
C/O Skydive Arizona
4900 N Taylor Rd.
Attn: Crazy Larry

Well here I am, safe and sound. (Again, a relative term)
The flight wasn't too bad. The first half was fine, but during the second
half my seatmates began to debate the impact of existentialism and geist and
zeitgeist upon the interrelationship of the masculine and feminine equation
and how that impacted the influence of ancient Greek mythology upon modern
society, coupled with the influence of estrogen and testosterone ...........

I have discovered the real reason they search people for weapons before
packing them inside a big metal tube like sardines and sending them across
the continent. Because if I'd had a weapon I'd have used one. The only
difficult part would've been trying to decide whose throat to cut, theirs or
my own.

I would like to take this opportunity to set the record straight. I
boasted/claimed that I would be "in the air by mid-afternoon". As it turned
out, I arrived on the grounds of Skydive Arizona at exactly 3:27 P.M. I know
this because the very first words I heard upon my arrival were "You're
Late!". That statement was delivered by a well respected individual (in some
circles), who has achieved some minor note in the skydiving world as a
videographer of a certain group of individuals best known for being named
after a bunch of badly dressed used-car salesmen, and who shall remain
unidentified.

While changing planes in Toronto, I ran into a disreputable individual by
the name of Paul Cincinnatto. He subsequently kidnapped me and very much
against my will forced me to accompany him to some god forsaken place in the
middle of the desert (that I happened to be going to anyway) and it's all
his fault I was late. That is not true of course, but since Tim isn't here
yet I have to blame it on someone. Well, parts of it are true, but it's a
little early in the game to start taking the blame for anything myself.

Immediately after that I met my ex, (who isn't really my ex, and if you
really want to know what that's all about you need to contact Heather in
Winnipeg) Dianne Beergirlblondebluecrazy, and since I didn't have any beer
with me she declared the love affair over for good. Sigh. Crushed again.
I don't actually expect that any of the above will make sense to any normal,
well adjusted individuals, which is why I'm sending it to you.

I did manage to get in one Skydive today before they shut things down a
whole hour and ten minutes before sunset. A two point fifteen way, during
which I Did My Part, I Flew My Slot, and I Had A Good Skydive. And according
to a videographer of some minor note who shall continue to remain
unidentified, my performance on that skydive "Did Not Suck". Not that his
opinion is worth anything. But he does have good taste in fine liquor and
finer women. I have pictures to prove it.

The Winnipeg crew had some tunnel time last night so I did everything I
could to encourage them to consume as much beer as possible before they went
in. I felt it was the least I could do. It didn't seem to phase Diane at
all, and in fact her solo flying in the tunnel was fantastic. Fast, precise
turns, level changes and side slides done with complete control. Now if she
could just remember what the skydive is she could really go somewhere.
All in all, the Invasion is off to a good start. The sun is shining, I'm
jumping, and there's no snow.

Larry

Invading I will go, invading I will go.......

Hi Ho The Derio, Invading I will go.

Yes, it's that time of year again, when a True Blue Wrapped In Wool Canadian
Skydiver's thoughts turn to .........................The Canadian
Invasion!!!!!

For those of you who are not in the loop, for 2 weeks every January, the
Eden North Drop Zone from Edmonton descends en masse upon Skydive Arizona,
taking over most of the facilities in what has come to be known as the
"Canadian Invasion".

16 Days of Madness and Mayhem, Pandemonium and Partying, resulting in the
death of billions of innocent brain cells. Innocent being a relative term,
they are merely Skydiver brain cells after all. The beginnings of the
tradition are lost in the mists of time, and people from Moncton, to
Abbotsford, to Alaska, not just Alberta, have found themselves drawn into
the nonsense. The Invaders that I know about include (but are not limited
to) Beth and Tim from Calgary, Dianne Beer Girl Blondebluecrazy, Brian, and
Johnny Larue from Winterpeg (a party crowd if there ever was one), Jo from
Mile High, and in a surprise development, Garth (yes Jo, there is a Santa
Claus, he wears a green and yellow suit). Notable by her absence will be a
certain French Redhead with a dynamite smile, but that does give me a reason
to be happy to return home.

As usual, I will drive fast and take chances, while keeping in mind the
words of several people who have admonished me to exercise caution and
restraint. Yeah, right. That's one reason I'm glad to be heading down there
with Tim. He's widely held to be a very responsible person - when something
bad happens, he's usually responsible. That's not true of course, but enough
people will believe it that I'll be able to pin the blame on him when I do
something stupid.

At least there will be no "Cypress Pouch Of Shame" at this event so that
everybody can tell at a glance when you've hosed the previous skydive in a
particularly egregious manner. I got to wear it at Lost Prairie on no less
than 3 occasions in 6 days, a record that has not been equaled before or
since.

There is a good possibility of a road trip at some point if the weather goes
bad, Vegas has been mentioned, and so has Mexico, although Beth has
expressed concern that Tim and I might trade her to a Mexican farmer for
Tequila. That would never happen of course, her mother knows where to find
me, and I'm not stupid enough to cross her.

Although I doubt the shenanigans and foolishness will equal the goings-on to
be found at an event like Summerfest or the Convention, I promise to
faithfully and truthfully report back to the civilized world the events as
they unfold, complete with photographs, no doubt to serve as evidence at
some future trial.

I leave early Friday morning, and should be skydiving by mid afternoon.
Don'tchya wish ya was comin' along?
Larry