Re: [vandev] gaining experiance...
I had something like 150 jumps when I did my first "big" wall. The highest thing I'd jumped up to that point was maybe 600 feet (we're obviously not including skydives here).
One of the biggest issues for me, on that jump, was that as I looked down at the rocks below the exit point it looked very much like about 300 feet, and not so much like 1200-plus. We had triangulated the height a number of times, had looked on topo maps, had some idea of the length of the climbing route up the face. In my mind, I was as certain as one can be that it was more than 1200 feet.
We had done a rock drop and heard what we thought must be the impact at 11 seconds. Take off a couple of seconds for the sound to get back to the exit point, and we thought conservatively that impact might be at 9 seconds. I decided to take a 6-second delay. My body still told me I was about to take a 6-second delay off a 300-foot cliff.
I rapped over the edge to take a look. I've climbed a lot of one-or-two-pitch stuff before, but just rapping over the edge of a 1200-foot cliff was something else.
We had arrived at the exit point about 8 am, in what can only be described as absolutely perfect wind conditions. There was a bit of mist rising slowly up the face. No wind to speak of. A beautiful sky. I had secretly hoped for even a 5 mph wind so I'd have something to be unsure about. Some of the wierdest jumps I've done have been when I show up at the exit point, and there is absolutely no reason not to do the jump. Except maybe one reason, and that one's part of the reason I do this. When there are no other reasons but this one, everything seems thrown into stark contrast.
By the time I was ready to jump, it was noon. When I radioed down to my ground crew that I was going to "put on my gear and see how it feels," those who have been with me before knew what was going on.
The jump went well, but to be honest sensory overload was definitely a factor. I took about a five second delay, but except for a few moments I don't remember very much of the jump. I landed in a high meadow with my ground crew running across the scree slopes to meet me.
Last summer I went to Norway and Switzerland with a few friends. When we returned home, we went back to our 1200-foot cliff and did some beautiful 8-10 second delays. On this second round of jumps, I felt completely aware. On most of the jumps I've done, there isn't a lot of time to enjoy freefall, except in that basic reptile-brain way which leaves me remembering later that I had a really good time, but unclear about some of the details. Our trip to Europe has changed even my experience of the lower stuff. The uprushing ground looks a little different now, because it's actually giving me quantitative information about my movement.
I think the biggest misconception that we have is that the ground will be one moment just floating there in front of us, and then very suddenly it will rise up and take us out. I think the best way to correct this is to make a few jumps at the terminal walls. At first, I counted, "One thousand one..." up to fifteen seconds. I think this is was a good way to calibrate my visuals. Then, after a couple of jumps, I'd count to fifteen and then just watch the ground a couple of seconds more. The thing is, it never really jumps up to get you. It's a fairly gradual kind of acceleration of groundrush.
Yeah, the ground is coming up mighty fast in the last couple of seconds. But it's not impossibly fast. In fact, it's quite finite. I've heard some people say it almost looks survivable.
Michael
