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"