Die Another Day

(Above: Bloukrans Bridge)

I gave God an easy out today. After driving across the Bloukrans Bridge, I parked my car, walked to the middle of the bridge and jumped off. There was only a shallow stream below and the Bloukrans Bridge is the highest in Africa. I figured I had made it this far, let’s see what happens. If I am meant to continue on then I will live, if not, then it is a good day to die.

But the jump was not as suicidal as it sounds even though it is identified by the Guiness Book of Records as the highest commercial bungee jump in the world. First I was weighed and my weight was written on my hand as it would determine which bungee cord to use. I told the woman weighing me to add a few extra kilos for good measure. I wanted to fly, but I didn’t want my inaugural flight to be my last either.

Next, I put on a nylon harness to which two bungee cords would be attached, one to my ankles and another to my chest. The second cord was really a back-up as the main line was to save me from certain death by suspending me upside down from my legs. Walking out to the bridge the guide explained that he had jumped 19 times before and to top it off, the outfit had a 99.7% safety record. Ok, actually it was 100%, but what if it was only 99.7%? Does that mean someone lost a finger or a limb, but didn’t perish?

I felt safe walking across the catwalk below the road way. Cars zoomed by overhead, tires bouncing on the seams in the concrete. A cool breeze blew threw archway beneath the roadway. Clouds prevented the sun from warming the air.

At center stage, it was game time. Techno music played to inspire me and the other jumpers. Thoughts raced through my head from, “This sure would be a stupid way to die” to “I think I still have life insurance, I wonder if jumping off a bridge is covered?” to “I hope I don’t chicken out.” There was no turning back, I was beyond the point of no return. One of the guide’s shirt read, “Fear is temporary. Regret is forever.” It inspired me to push forward, but then it occurred to me that I would forever regret jumping if I didn’t live beyond the jump. Nevermind, too late.

“Number 127” was written on the dry erase board. I looked down at my hand and saw a match. Unfortunately, this was not Bingo or Keno, this was bungee jumping. I kicked off my flip flops and walked on the cold cement to a box near the jump zone where I took a seat. Two red velcro wraps, like the kind used to take your blood pressure, were placed on my calves. Subsequently, my legs were sinched together, knees knocking and heels touching. There was little margin for error.

Two guys surveyed my harness, the straps and the bungees, yanking and tightening, making final last minute adjustments. Safety check was over and the moment of truth was here. I stood up as the guys each took an arm to help me hop to the ledge. The wind was blowing by ears as the music faded from my awareness.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1,” the guys yelled in unison. Bombs away.

Air whizzing at my face, silence all around, my body was in a free fall from almost 1,000 feet, it was the craziest 60 seconds of my life. Hurling toward earth, disappointment set in. Despite my childhood fantasies, I was not superman. Nor was I the Greatest American Hero, at least I didn’t have my cape on. Batman utility belt non-existent, I was left only to rely on the bungee cords supposedly strapped to my ankles.

Reversing at 120 kilometers per hour is difficult in a car, with just your body it is even more challenging. And that is exactly what happened. After several hair raising seconds of free fall, I went from a dead drop to my first recoil launching me back toward the bridge about half the distance I had just fallen. “Oh no, not this again,” I thought to myself.

For another minute, I would recoil 3 more times before coming to some semblance of a stationary position. I felt like meat hung to dry, suspended some 200 meters from the bridge. Blood rushed to my head as I had now been upside down for at least 2 minutes as I shaked and baked on the bungee.

A man from the bridge lowered himself to my position and rearranged my bungee so that I would be semi-upright instead of hanging upside down for the trip back up to the bridge. Another minute of hard hand over hand work by the guys on the bridge and I was back on deck. It was a rush, one that I would eagerly do again.

So today was not my day to die. God had his/her chance to make sense of it all, but it was not to be. Thank God!
(Left: Dried Meat on a string.)